10 Dec 2021, 18:06
Rising and Falling
Dated: October 24, 2021
It was late in the evening, but an exception would be made for the Slytherin and Ravenclaw students coming in to be treated after their Quidditch game. It had been a difficult one, for Slytherin at least, as broom breaking and blatching had become the eagle's new norm. Dan had been close to catching the snitch, but the stalwart aggressiveness of the birds had overcome the team in a somewhat surprising upset. Last year, the Ravenclaw team had been the underdog, losing almost too easily. It seemed the reputation would not last this season, with one win already under their belt. It was just a shame that it happened to also be during Flash's first time onto the field.
As he sat up on the bed, his body completely fine from the magical healing, yet still aching from the physical exertion, his feelings would be endlessly conflicted. Naturally, he did not like to lose. Already at the start of the season Slytherin had confirmed that they would not make a perfect sweep, which was a shame. After having congratulated the Vipers the year before on their stellar success in dueling, he couldn't help but feel regret that their Quidditch team would not be receiving the same level of praise, in no small part due to his own performance. As a perfectionist, it stung. He wished he could have pulled off a miracle, and regardless of the fact that he had been able to see the snitch right away, there was simply no use in seeing it if he couldn't stay in the air. Regrets, however, were not useful. He would just have to get better.
The conflict in his heart came from his pride in his dear friend Sylvain. It was hard not to be impressed at how well his team did, especially Syl himself, as a first time flyer and co-captain. Their performance could have only been a result of practice and teamwork, and who could resist being excited to see a dark horse succeed? Flash had been unconscious by the time the game was called, but having been the last hope for his team, he knew where the chips would fall on the journey to the ground. This was not a fluke, Sylvain deserved the win and the praise. Flash could see him off in his own bed, surrounded by teammates who were happily lapping up their first taste of victory. Flash wanted to be happy for them too, therefore neither the pain of defeat nor the relief of love could take hold.
Regardless of the fight raging in his heart, the dispersal of others gave him the opportunity to walk over to Syl's bedside himself. Regardless of their adversarial position earlier, or the conflict of his feelings, it did not deter him from wanting to say his sincere thoughts to his close companion.
"Syl, congratulations." A genuine smile would be easy to manage, though it would be fleeting. "A wretched shame we couldn't be on the same team, you all played fantastically."
His two-toned eyes darted to the corners of the room as the smile faltered, not wanting to be ungrateful. Disappointment was a hard hill to surmount, and he did not want to ruin Syl's moment in the sun. "I'm amazed, you fly like a natural, you know. If only I could have relied on you to catch me again."
It seemed like no matter how hard he tried to remain positive, his regrets seeped back into his words. He would curse himself internally, frustration evident in his shifting body language.
@Sylvain Wyllt
For we dreamed a lot//And we schemed a lot//And we tried to sing of love before the stage fell apart
Sta: 9 ★Eva: 5 ★Str: 7 ★Wis: 15 ★AP: 3 ★Acc: 15
10 Dec 2021, 19:49
Rising and Falling
Hexcode= #507091
At least until...
He awoke with a small start, his heart leaping to his throat as he awoke from the pitch black of Erin Ryan induced slumber. The impact had knocked him unconscious before he'd even understood what exactly had happened and it was evidence that life is just like that sometimes. Too many things coming at you all at once, with too many opportunities to know exactly how to make the right call. Sometimes you made mistakes that cost you the game and other times your mistakes were just speed bumps along the road. He was lucky this instance was the latter and refused to believe anything more.
Naturally, as he awoke, the first of his thoughts were "Where am I." But after hugging Brumby so many times it was only a matter of time before his blurry vision cleared up to give way to a familiar sight. "The Hospital Wing. Rats, someone got us," were his second thoughts. A puny little self-loathing voice that never truly deserved the consideration he had given it. Scanning the beds, he searched for his ward, River. It was apparent that she wasn't there, so it seemed he had at least managed to steer her towards safety as he intended. "At least I can say I did that much," he thought to himself, releasing that puny inner voice of its right to complain. Even if only so he could settle for not being so hard on himself.
Flash of course was the third consideration he would make here. Although Sylvain thought of him as his best friend, the conductor who managed his train of thought was a hard man to knock off track. When Syl saw his friend in poor shape, his heart wilted like a crumpled piece of paper that had been wadded up and discarded with haste. Of course, no time for mourning his friend's loss was allowed to him, and soon enough Syl was surrounded by his own team mates. Each of them seemed beyond excited that they had finally won a match. Something that had only last year seemed like an impossible feat, was now a made and true reality. They had worked hard and truly deserved it. Syl should've felt good, but instead the victory felt somehow hollow after seeing Flash in the same, if not worse, sorry shape.
Responding to their jubilation, Sylvain could only muster a little more than a sad shrug as he voice his apathetic feelings surrounding their shared achievement, "I guess I just had to be there." It was dismissive, but not entirely untrue. He wished he'd seen it for himself. It wasn't until they let him return to his rest that he truly got to think about how he felt, and why it was that he felt that way.
He had been achy and sore before, usually after practice, but this was the kind of pain that meant he was experiencing growth so it wasn't the kind of thing that truly bothered him. Rather it was a nagging condition which lent itself poorly to his already unusually grumpy head. Even after the healing magic had come and gone, there was some kind of wound which he still felt, and he felt it most profoundly of all the things that bothered him. It was a sort of rift, extending itself invisibly from across the room. The rift was silent resentment, something that he now considered to be a problem, but couldn't fully grapple on his own.
When Flash congratulated him, the rift's shadow felt as if it grew even wider, the malfeasance expanding with each expression concealing his friend's silent resignation. Resignation which was being made without any form of self-consideration on his friend's part. If there was one thing to be learned today, it would be that Flash's own feelings deserved just as much of Sylvain's consideration as his own did. How could that happen when the opportunity was being denied? As Holmwood complimented Syl's teamwork while playing, Sylvain felt the compliment hollow as if all he had really done was keep a lookout for the others on his team. A role which was something expected of everyone already anyways, so the rift silently grew a little further once again.
Truth be told, it wasn't Syl's fault they had won any more than it was Cecily or Jorah's or Winnie's and on and on and so forth and etc. Though let's be honest, Jorah really kicked butt and took names out there.
"No you don't," Sylvain said quite bluntly, the nagging feeling of Flash's "if only" wishful thinking hurting his feelings even more. How could Flash possibly want to be saved from danger in the midst of a game. Nobody should ever want that. It struck a nerve with him because he hadn't even wanted to save anyone to begin with, it just... sort of... had to happen if they wanted to succeed. "To be entirely honest, most of my time flying was boring. It was only the last part, where I was too busy scooping River from the air to see where I was going that wasn't so easy for me to do." Not to mention how he had botched their "Aly-oop." Now he was beginning to feel ashamed that they had won.
Frustrated beyond belief, he finally spoke again after a pause of silence, but this time with audible exasperation as Flash shifted away from him, venting for a moment while truly believing that the boy in front of him really wanted him to feel good for having won, but not understanding why his words felt so hollow. He cried out, wanting to burst into tears but instead feeling a need to stay frustrated. "and look at where my flying put me!" Reluctantly he held his tears back. He couldn't cry now. Not while Flash was so graciously accepting defeat. Not while his best friend had lost to dumb luck despite his best efforts. Not while his friend was complimenting him for winning.
@Flash Holmwood
"Things are never so bad they can't be made worse." -Elim Garak
10 Dec 2021, 21:24
Rising and Falling
Flash was taken off-guard by Sylvain's words. He knew the boy would be tired, if not from the game then certainly the hour, but that alone could not be the only culprit for such a response. Syl seemed hurt, though if not by the sting of loss, then what? Flash would clear his throat, made awkward by the disapproval of his placations. As a boy finally able to grow among his peers rather than idle alone at home, he was learning, slowly, about the foibles of his forced politeness. It was not easy to overcome, even in the presence of those he had already been vulnerable with.
"Boring? Really?" Flash's voice would be sullen and confused. "I... well, you did better than..."
It was no use, instead of lifting Syl up, it seemed his presence only brought the boy down. After stumbling with his words, Flash merely looked at his shoes ashamedly. His chest hurt, a stronger pain than the disappointment of loss filling it. Their friendship meant much more to him than points on a board, though he imagined that in Syl's position, he would have been gleeful. Clasping his hands together to relieve some of the tension he felt, Flash tried to continue.
"What is going on? You can't mean that... you won." Flash sighed again in defeat, it was too late to hold himself back from saying things he 'shouldn't.' "Come on, I mean it. I'm sorry about how I said it, it's just... you know, I wish it was you coming to me telling me what a good job I did. It's hard not to be a bit jealous. That's just how games are..."
Once the words had been spoken, it was starting to dawn on him, more than what he had already realized. He had made it all about himself, over and over. He struggled against the pull of self-pity, "Or... I guess that's how I am." Repentant, Flash would take the seat closest Sylvain's bed, scooching it closer and collapsing into it tiredly.
"How are you? Are you okay?"
"Boring? Really?" Flash's voice would be sullen and confused. "I... well, you did better than..."
It was no use, instead of lifting Syl up, it seemed his presence only brought the boy down. After stumbling with his words, Flash merely looked at his shoes ashamedly. His chest hurt, a stronger pain than the disappointment of loss filling it. Their friendship meant much more to him than points on a board, though he imagined that in Syl's position, he would have been gleeful. Clasping his hands together to relieve some of the tension he felt, Flash tried to continue.
"What is going on? You can't mean that... you won." Flash sighed again in defeat, it was too late to hold himself back from saying things he 'shouldn't.' "Come on, I mean it. I'm sorry about how I said it, it's just... you know, I wish it was you coming to me telling me what a good job I did. It's hard not to be a bit jealous. That's just how games are..."
Once the words had been spoken, it was starting to dawn on him, more than what he had already realized. He had made it all about himself, over and over. He struggled against the pull of self-pity, "Or... I guess that's how I am." Repentant, Flash would take the seat closest Sylvain's bed, scooching it closer and collapsing into it tiredly.
"How are you? Are you okay?"
@Sylvain Wyllt
For we dreamed a lot//And we schemed a lot//And we tried to sing of love before the stage fell apart
Sta: 9 ★Eva: 5 ★Str: 7 ★Wis: 15 ★AP: 3 ★Acc: 15
28 Dec 2021, 15:19
Rising and Falling
Hexcode= #507091
His first thought was, "what a silly question to ask someone so visibly not okay." Anger manifested, bubbling up from nowhere at all. Syl then immediately wanted to mockingly whisper Flash's words back to him under his breath, but instead he turned his head away from Flash to hide the shame behind his honest answer. "No," he said bluntly, without apologizing for feeling like he was being treated like crap.
"I do not feel okay." It wasn't the game or lying in bed that had shamed him, but that Flash had pretended to be genuinely happy for him. He wasn't sore over the fact, just reluctant to put up with it if they were going to remain friends. "You could've just said that you know, that you were jealous of me. Envy is not so unrelatable that I'd stop being your friend over it." At the least it would've been nice to know he had enviable qualities.
He would pull any of the bandages still bound to him off, slide out from under the blanket that covered him, and stand up order to get out of his bed. There was a bit of soreness in the first step, an audible hiss from his lips as he put weight on his feet, but it was nothing he couldn't handle on his own. "No sense in lying around the hospital wing moping about it any longer. Laying in bed feeling sorry for myself is only going to make matters worse." A maturity he had earned from years passed.
If his friend was going to continue being jealous of him, then Syl was unwilling paying the price that it demanded. Turning to look at Flash, angry as ever, Syl couldn't bring himself to look him in his eyes as he spoke without thinking over his words. It was a rare thing for him to do, but in this case he felt more than justified. "What about you, Flash? You'll have to up your game and try harder to win if you want the praise for it. What else are you hoping for? That we quietly get worse and that I'll praise you for it?"
He sat down on the edge of the bed and began tying his shoes with a huff, still avoiding eye contact. His nervous and anxious gangly fingers seemed unable to make any progress knotting the laces whatsoever. He was now experiencing aglet aggro.
@Flash Holmwood
"Things are never so bad they can't be made worse." -Elim Garak
28 Dec 2021, 16:41
Rising and Falling
When Syl answered in the negative, Flash only got more tense. There were not many people he knew who were as openly honest as Syl was, and Flash couldn't always handle the truth, let alone express it. Syl had been Flash's first friend, meeting far before his ascension into the ranks of popularity. Flash spent his time with all sorts of people, but most of them would acquiesce to his will, and support him blindly. It was intentional, they were an extension of power, and a network of information, there was no room for naysayers. Moments like this, where his defensive pattern of speech was questioned by someone he respected, caused conflict in his heart.
Flash hated it. Being shown his ugly behavior plainly made his insecurities feel more real, more true than his façade of complete confidence. Still seated as Syl stood up, Flash could feel his face heating up, trying to contain his frustration by gripping his hands together too tightly. When alone, Flash's teenage rage usually took the form of throwing things and screaming, but it wasn't a relief tactic he used in public. His mother had be very clear about the impact it would have on people's opinion of him, and other people's opinion of him was all he had. After all, he hated himself.
Boiling just below the surface, Syl asked him a question, one that was pointed and painful. "How could you say that?" Flash's voice would strike back, aghast and quiet. "Why are you being so cruel? What's wrong with you?"
The strain on his fingers had become too much, the amount of upset he was feeling becoming inordinate. Syl had challenged his pride, and challenged the artistic use of words he employed to both express his disappointment and congratulate his success. Why had it enraged him, when so many others would have accepted it? While indignant, Flash was not willing to just drop it and storm off. He would want to understand what he did not. He'd stand up himself, moving to be in front of Syl so that he could not walk away without pushing Flash aside.
"I'm just trying to be nice! Why are you acting like I'm harassing you?!" Flash's frustration culminated in this hissing, red-faced retort, both wanting his friendship to return but also wanting to be right. "Do you think I don't care at all? That I'm only thinking about myself? You hate me now all of the sudden?"
Flash would stop, needing to take some deep breaths. He wanted to look around, to see if anyone was watching him have a mini-meltdown, but he didn't want anyone to see his face. He was on the brink of tears, trying to keep it together. "Listen... I don't understand." Flash's anger had diffused, his voice now quiet and sad. "I don't want to make you mad. I don't know how to... I don't know how to be proud and disappointed at the same time. Maybe I don't know how to control my feelings at all. Please don't be angry with me."
Flash hated it. Being shown his ugly behavior plainly made his insecurities feel more real, more true than his façade of complete confidence. Still seated as Syl stood up, Flash could feel his face heating up, trying to contain his frustration by gripping his hands together too tightly. When alone, Flash's teenage rage usually took the form of throwing things and screaming, but it wasn't a relief tactic he used in public. His mother had be very clear about the impact it would have on people's opinion of him, and other people's opinion of him was all he had. After all, he hated himself.
Boiling just below the surface, Syl asked him a question, one that was pointed and painful. "How could you say that?" Flash's voice would strike back, aghast and quiet. "Why are you being so cruel? What's wrong with you?"
The strain on his fingers had become too much, the amount of upset he was feeling becoming inordinate. Syl had challenged his pride, and challenged the artistic use of words he employed to both express his disappointment and congratulate his success. Why had it enraged him, when so many others would have accepted it? While indignant, Flash was not willing to just drop it and storm off. He would want to understand what he did not. He'd stand up himself, moving to be in front of Syl so that he could not walk away without pushing Flash aside.
"I'm just trying to be nice! Why are you acting like I'm harassing you?!" Flash's frustration culminated in this hissing, red-faced retort, both wanting his friendship to return but also wanting to be right. "Do you think I don't care at all? That I'm only thinking about myself? You hate me now all of the sudden?"
Flash would stop, needing to take some deep breaths. He wanted to look around, to see if anyone was watching him have a mini-meltdown, but he didn't want anyone to see his face. He was on the brink of tears, trying to keep it together. "Listen... I don't understand." Flash's anger had diffused, his voice now quiet and sad. "I don't want to make you mad. I don't know how to... I don't know how to be proud and disappointed at the same time. Maybe I don't know how to control my feelings at all. Please don't be angry with me."
@Sylvain Wyllt
For we dreamed a lot//And we schemed a lot//And we tried to sing of love before the stage fell apart
Sta: 9 ★Eva: 5 ★Str: 7 ★Wis: 15 ★AP: 3 ★Acc: 15
28 Dec 2021, 17:29
Rising and Falling
Hexcode= #507091
Syl would give up on fastening his shoes without further fuss, slipping them off by pressing toe to heel as Flash quietly pontificated at him for lashing out.
Hearing Flash's voice rise though? Sylvain was never more certain that he hadn't meant what he said, even if what he had said was truly how he felt. That was the problem with speaking before you thought, it had the potential to be seen as cruel. But then so did being dishonest with how you felt. It was a difficult boundary to traverse. "I don't want to be," Syl responded, meekly expressing his regret, "I forgive you and I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. I was angry and I didn't mean the things I said." He began crying, quietly letting tears slip down his cheeks. Quidditch was supposed to be a game, even if they were opponents on the pitch. The game wasn't supposed to become the cause of conflict off of it.
Taking a deep breath, he found a measure of composure and built up the courage to look Flash in his face seriously. Admittedly a herculean task as his face had become puffy and red from his melt down. "I want you to be honest with your self. It's not fair for you just to be nice to me, I care about how you feel too." He would sigh, lying backwards onto the bed as Flash towered before of him. His words would trail as he began staring at the ceiling of the Hospital Wing. A sight that was probably becoming fairly common to Sylvain by now, but still vastly under-described in the world of his author.
Not looking back down, motionless on his mattress, Sylvain would ask Flash an earnest question from his improved position. Mostly, he felt curious to understand why the miscommunication had happened in the first place, expressing interest in gaining perspective. "When you put yourself in my shoes, why'd you think about what you'd want me to do if I was in yours?" Was he missing something? Wasn't the point of putting yourself in other people's shoes to understand what they would want? Empathy wasn't as simple as role reversal. "Do you really think I'd tell you I was happy for you even if I truly wasn't?"
@Flash Holmwood
"Things are never so bad they can't be made worse." -Elim Garak
28 Dec 2021, 19:35
Rising and Falling
It seemed like Syl's anger was similarly waylaid, a timid voice that made it difficult to resist crying himself. He knew that if he cried, it would be loudly, and that he'd be causing a scene. He didn't like drawing negative attention to himself, it was frightening. His reputation and image was what he needed to survive, he was too weak of character and emotionally fragile to endure the world. Without that crutch, the appearance of someone who was untouchable, he'd be eaten alive. He knew that being genuine and vulnerable with people he trusted felt good, he knew that crying felt good. Still, the fear persisted. He was so tired of getting hurt, he just wanted to be safe. He should have felt safe with his friends... why did he have to be reminded each time?
When Syl apologized, crying, restrained tears would also fall from Flash's face. How had this become so emotional... he had underestimated how much the baggage he was carrying would affect Sylvain. Flash wasn't just sad that he lost, he coveted the happiness he assumed Syl had, the happiness he was banking on to lift his spirits in a year where he no longer had good days. He hadn't considered that Syl wouldn't be so shallow, that he would have complex feelings of his own. Wiping the offending wetness from his face, a clear thought managed to pass through, an answer to the question he was pondering. He didn't believe his friends when they told him they cared about him. He didn't trust anyone.
"Sorry." Flash would only meet Syl's gaze for a moment before his eyes would retreat to the floor in shame. "I don't know why you'd... I thought that..."
He'd not be able to explain, and a weary sigh punctuated his frustration at the attempt to. He was starting to get a headache, a hand coming up to rub his brow. Syl would continue, using logic to reverse engineer the conflict by taking it apart to find the root of the problem. It was helpful, something to focus his mind towards investigation rather than lamentation. "No." His tone would remain sad, but now a calm had returned. "I see what you mean. I... uhm..."
Speaking for himself was not something he had much practice doing, it was much easier to say what he should say, what was polite and correct. Not that it didn't take its toll elsewhere, where he couldn't see it. He had been lying without even realizing he was doing it. For as much as he had opened up and started expressing himself, it still felt like first year. He was holding a mask in front of his face, waiting for some inevitable betrayal, so he could say he had known all along. Even the people he loved... could he honestly believe they loved him back? Was trust really even worth giving, if it could be taken away just as easily?
He didn't know. He was only thirteen, for goodness sakes. At the very least, he knew now what was wrong. Whether he had the courage to open up his heart to disappointment, he still wasn't sure. Life had not been kind to him. At the very least, he could attempt to be more honest about it.
"I hate losing so much. Damn you for beating us." Once it left his mouth, he involuntarily chuckled. He was embarrassed, but that itself wasn't the painful part. It was the moment he imagined when Syl would look back at him with disgust as disapproval. He'd overcome the fear in the moment, since he was asked to. "A curse upon your house."
When Syl apologized, crying, restrained tears would also fall from Flash's face. How had this become so emotional... he had underestimated how much the baggage he was carrying would affect Sylvain. Flash wasn't just sad that he lost, he coveted the happiness he assumed Syl had, the happiness he was banking on to lift his spirits in a year where he no longer had good days. He hadn't considered that Syl wouldn't be so shallow, that he would have complex feelings of his own. Wiping the offending wetness from his face, a clear thought managed to pass through, an answer to the question he was pondering. He didn't believe his friends when they told him they cared about him. He didn't trust anyone.
"Sorry." Flash would only meet Syl's gaze for a moment before his eyes would retreat to the floor in shame. "I don't know why you'd... I thought that..."
He'd not be able to explain, and a weary sigh punctuated his frustration at the attempt to. He was starting to get a headache, a hand coming up to rub his brow. Syl would continue, using logic to reverse engineer the conflict by taking it apart to find the root of the problem. It was helpful, something to focus his mind towards investigation rather than lamentation. "No." His tone would remain sad, but now a calm had returned. "I see what you mean. I... uhm..."
Speaking for himself was not something he had much practice doing, it was much easier to say what he should say, what was polite and correct. Not that it didn't take its toll elsewhere, where he couldn't see it. He had been lying without even realizing he was doing it. For as much as he had opened up and started expressing himself, it still felt like first year. He was holding a mask in front of his face, waiting for some inevitable betrayal, so he could say he had known all along. Even the people he loved... could he honestly believe they loved him back? Was trust really even worth giving, if it could be taken away just as easily?
He didn't know. He was only thirteen, for goodness sakes. At the very least, he knew now what was wrong. Whether he had the courage to open up his heart to disappointment, he still wasn't sure. Life had not been kind to him. At the very least, he could attempt to be more honest about it.
"I hate losing so much. Damn you for beating us." Once it left his mouth, he involuntarily chuckled. He was embarrassed, but that itself wasn't the painful part. It was the moment he imagined when Syl would look back at him with disgust as disapproval. He'd overcome the fear in the moment, since he was asked to. "A curse upon your house."
@Sylvain Wyllt
For we dreamed a lot//And we schemed a lot//And we tried to sing of love before the stage fell apart
Sta: 9 ★Eva: 5 ★Str: 7 ★Wis: 15 ★AP: 3 ★Acc: 15
28 Dec 2021, 20:02
Rising and Falling
Hexcode= #507091
It tickled him nearly to death to hear how vexed, exactly, Flash had felt. Sylvain's worries, fears and anger had all disappeared the very moment Flash admitted too feeling them on his own. Erupting into a fit of laughter, Sylvain would laugh from deep in his stomach until it hurt to smile and the tears staining his face began to pool in the corners between his eyes and nose. In that moment, he couldn't care less how he looked to Flash.
When he finished laughing, he would raise only his head to look at Flash, giving him the quality of being a goofy goober possessing a double chin. "I know just the medicine you need," he said giving Flash his best impression of Kelsey. "You need a good laugh ya prat." With that, Syl scrunched his face up like Flash's when it got angry and teased Flash a little for taking himself so seriously. "I'd say curses right back at you but knowing your competition, you're already doomed, and I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemies."
His face would fall back to its normal expression, daring not to poke the bear too many times, "let alone the best of all my friends. Better luck next time mate." Letting his head fall back to the mattress, Sylvain scooted over a bit and patted the spot next to him. Maybe the two could lay in bed together and find a way to do the unthinkable. Like build a bridge and get over this together. Or find a succinct way to describe the ceiling they would both be staring at in the meantime.
@Flash Holmwood
"Things are never so bad they can't be made worse." -Elim Garak
8 Jan 2022, 17:19
Rising and Falling
To his words of childish impunity, Syl would bust a gut laughing, wiggling on the bed with tears down his face. Having some breath and levity in himself as well, Flash took the moment to wipe his face clean of the few tears of his own that had fallen. He had no idea it would feel as good as it did to say something so rude, so simple and mean. The voice of his mother was inscribed in his mind like carvings on an ancient epithet, dictating how his words must be, in order to be acceptable. Being a sore loser diminished his dignity as a person, degraded him. Speaking rudely was a sign of bad character, of incivility and selfishness. It made sense before, it even made sense now, yet in this moment, it was the right thing to do. Morality, as it turned out, was complex.
Then, Syl would talk in a funny voice, joking and prodding further on the subject. It was funny, the kind of jocular ribbing he was used to hearing form years of playing football. It was a clever comeback, though Flash would only manage another short chuckle, covering his mouth as he smiled. Another year he may have laughed as loudly as Syl had, but the talk of curses and doom was too real. Sylvain had no way of knowing it, but Flash was indeed on a doomed path, unrelated to Quidditch.
It changed with Syl's tone and face, calling Flash his best friend and wishing him luck. Flash felt like his heart could break at those words, and his face would reflect that deep sadness. There was sadness in love as well, the sadness of sharing his grief. It wasn't only paranoia that kept him from sharing intimate details about his life, it was also the selfish desire to protect everyone from himself. If they did not know the depth of his suffering, they would not be hurt by it. That was the theory at least, no one who was as close as Syl was to him would be fooled into thinking he was fine. As Syl patted the hospital bed to offer the spot next to him, Flash would sit down there.
"Right. I do hope your team continues to do well. You deserve it for your hard work." This time, his words weren't stilted and confused, they flowed easily. "I've been... this year has been terribly difficult. Getting to go on the field... seeing the snitch but not being able to go after it... it was just another in a long list of failures and disappointments."
Flash would sigh heavily again, putting his elbows on his knees and plunging his face into his hands. If laughter was the medicine, he needed his funny bone fixed first. The world was overwhelming and tragedy and pain were around every corner, he could hardly see what was left to laugh at. "I feel like I'm always miserable. I don't know how to have fun, I don't know how to be happy."
His words would echo from inside his hands, dripping with high octane teenage angst. They were words he rarely spoke, the pain he knew couldn't be healed. Life was just painful, and all he could do was endure it. Try to make it slightly less painful, for himself and others. He had tried to find joy-- exercising, being in the sun, taking part in games and spending time with friends. It was all just a distraction from the truth, from the daggers of reality waiting to gouge out another part of him.
Then, Syl would talk in a funny voice, joking and prodding further on the subject. It was funny, the kind of jocular ribbing he was used to hearing form years of playing football. It was a clever comeback, though Flash would only manage another short chuckle, covering his mouth as he smiled. Another year he may have laughed as loudly as Syl had, but the talk of curses and doom was too real. Sylvain had no way of knowing it, but Flash was indeed on a doomed path, unrelated to Quidditch.
It changed with Syl's tone and face, calling Flash his best friend and wishing him luck. Flash felt like his heart could break at those words, and his face would reflect that deep sadness. There was sadness in love as well, the sadness of sharing his grief. It wasn't only paranoia that kept him from sharing intimate details about his life, it was also the selfish desire to protect everyone from himself. If they did not know the depth of his suffering, they would not be hurt by it. That was the theory at least, no one who was as close as Syl was to him would be fooled into thinking he was fine. As Syl patted the hospital bed to offer the spot next to him, Flash would sit down there.
"Right. I do hope your team continues to do well. You deserve it for your hard work." This time, his words weren't stilted and confused, they flowed easily. "I've been... this year has been terribly difficult. Getting to go on the field... seeing the snitch but not being able to go after it... it was just another in a long list of failures and disappointments."
Flash would sigh heavily again, putting his elbows on his knees and plunging his face into his hands. If laughter was the medicine, he needed his funny bone fixed first. The world was overwhelming and tragedy and pain were around every corner, he could hardly see what was left to laugh at. "I feel like I'm always miserable. I don't know how to have fun, I don't know how to be happy."
His words would echo from inside his hands, dripping with high octane teenage angst. They were words he rarely spoke, the pain he knew couldn't be healed. Life was just painful, and all he could do was endure it. Try to make it slightly less painful, for himself and others. He had tried to find joy-- exercising, being in the sun, taking part in games and spending time with friends. It was all just a distraction from the truth, from the daggers of reality waiting to gouge out another part of him.
@Sylvain Wyllt
For we dreamed a lot//And we schemed a lot//And we tried to sing of love before the stage fell apart
Sta: 9 ★Eva: 5 ★Str: 7 ★Wis: 15 ★AP: 3 ★Acc: 15
28 Mar 2022, 18:20
Rising and Falling
Hexcode= #507091
It was serious business, as always with Flash.
Syl had won their match, despite the odds against him, and yet that victory somehow seemed hollow if his friend couldn't celebrate it with him. At least that was how he felt until Flash expressed, genuinely, that he couldn't have fun anymore, his stress clearly overwhelming him and shading his perception. When he looked at his stance again, it felt more like he had been a sore winner than a caring friend. Syl had always guessed that sometimes you had to take the good with the bad, roll with the punches, or whatever other comic book nonsense one had to conjure up to get through the rough patches, and it was the case that he truly felt that way.
It wasn't just that he believed this, but that he exemplified it. Sylvain couldn't recall a single moment outside of a quidditch game where he had to rely on someone else in order to have a good time. What he could remember however was crying when nobody agreed with his idea of a good time. Well, that and the couple of times he felt other students had stolen what should have been his thunder. All in all he considered himself lucky never to have gotten to the point that he couldn't remember how to have fun. It was the kind of thing that just sort of made itself up, how in the world could one remind themselves to enjoy life?
Sitting up, putting a hand on Flash's shoulder, he apologized. "Look, I-I was a bit harsh just then." He would swallow his pride, think about his words and how they might just be the very thing that was needed to send his closest friend on downwards spiral. He stared blankly for a moment unsure, exactly, how best to comfort someone who kept their true feelings to themselves. In that moment he felt worried, worried that no matter what he said or did it might not matter. It was then that something Flash had asked him once before resurfaced in the most spectacular of ways, quickly finding its way to the back of his tongue, rolling forward and outward like thunder in the silence of his friend's pitiful slump.
"Can’t we just enjoy each others’ company for a while?” That was it! He would help look for Flash's smile, or rather he would resolve to solve the case of Flash's missing smile. To search for it until they had found it again, only this time they would do it together."It's not like I'm going anywhere anytime soon anyways, and there's a whole library of books for us to read..." but as he spoke, his voice trailed, he became less and less certain that Flash wanted to be the friends the way they were before things had changed.
All that doubt welled up inside him like a rock settling down inside of his stomach. A knot of concern that likely wouldn't be washed away with a mere sip from glass of water. Instead, he would think again how to turn a negative into a positive. "Or maybe something new? I bet we could crack the case on a bona fide mystery." There were lots of those, weren't there? They were living in a castle practically overflowing with questions unanswered. "You know, get your mind off whatever it is that's troubling you?" That much Syl was certain of. Flash clearly had something going on he didn't want to talk about. Nor should he have to.
@Flash Holmwood
"Things are never so bad they can't be made worse." -Elim Garak