Swallows, Briefly
| — |  —date. [ 01/12/25 ]——————word count. [ 511 ]— —interacting with @harlan montgomery — Far away, to the south, over the Channel, billows of pure white cloud would heap upon one another and climb into the sky, and the westerly would begin to blow. It was a cool, damp wind, faintly salted with the smell of the sea. At first, it'd stir gently in the late afternoon, and then, gathering speed, it'd set the roads dancing with dust, driving tall columns of it ahead before carrying them onward here, and then farther still. From these parts it'd sweep on toward the Scottish Highlands, which lay stretched in slanting tiers: here and there streaked with pale snow. First, a deep, brooding purple pressed layer upon layer; then a lighter violet; then blue; then paler blue still; then the colour of cloud... Until at last it dissolved into the very blue of the sky, fading in the distance like a thin, wavering veil. Roland stood upon the Viaduct, his blue eyes steeped in a deep and wordless quiet as he gazed toward the Boathouse, which looked, from this distance, like a little birdhouse fallen from the walls of Hogwarts, as the sinking orb of light flickered and died upon the waters of the Black Lake. Across the immaculate sky, black flecks, swallows, shot back and forth like arrows, and the sight stirred him faintly to life, lending some meaning to his still expression, colour to his temporarily statue-pale face, and a gentle briskness to the blood running through his veins rarely pierced by a needle. Good Lord, how beautiful it was here. Beautiful enough to leave even a boy like Roland standing in quiet awe. It was December, the most splendorous of months, and it had just overthrown his often incompetent predecessor's reign in a clamorous coup. Upon his head sat his šubara, inherited from his grandfather’s brother, Great Uncle Zvonimir, and about his shoulders a brown coat perfectly matched to the hue of the traditional cap. The cold, as though by deliberate design, added a small touch of crimson to the tip of his characteristically sharp nose. For a moment, Roland wished to feel the wind in his hair. He slipped off the cap lightly. His hair, despite the rather saddening fact that it still hadn't quite grown out since his last trim, met the western wind and bent before it like a field of sunflowers, all golden and gentle, curving in quiet reverence. A smile silently took refuge on his shiny face. The Marin boy rested his elbows upon the marble rail of the Viaduct and cupped his face in both hands. "O, I'm fortune's fool," he recited loudly and devoutly, remembering his father's performance as Romeo last year. Was it genuine, though, that degree of selflessness, or simply, was Shakespeare a fool unjustly respected? "Meh, who cares?" the boy mumbled to himself, starting to whistle in contentment. It was cold, yet Roland felt too lazy to make the same journey back to the castle; the proud banners of his house could wait a little longer to be combined with the boy's winter red nose. ═════════════════════  ═════════════════════( codes by uly & banner credit goes to harlan ! )— | — |
Last edited by Roland Domagoj Marin on 23 Mar 2026, 22:17, edited 2 times in total.
| sta • 6 | eva • 5 | str • 2 THEATRE KID wis • 9 | arc • 7 | acc • 6 | the muggle condition THROUGH⠀THE⠀YEARS every step a scene worth watching |
Swallows, Briefly
| —— |  the voices all came crashing down and said, " you're too nice to run this town. " summary, this thread is happening on DECEMBER 1ST, 2025, in the AFTERNOON with @ROLAND DOMAGOJ MARIN. / wc: 467. It was naive for anyone to think that the Viaducts was their own personal, hidden reprieve from the constant social hum of the castle and its outskirts filled with students buzzing like drones searching for pollen in the form of attention and accolades. Now that Harlan had been a little older, it was easy to identify the patterns of the younger students trying to establish themselves from their contemporaries, make a name for themselves, and push their own agendas forward. Sure, a majority of them were trying to simply pass their classes, but it wasn't difficult to spot those with ambition with the way they maneuvered through the castle hungry for something that the Great Hall couldn't provide. Harlan had found the Viaducts last year when he would illegally practice his broom riding during his jaunt on the Broom Racing team before his brilliant inaugural race where he set himself on fire brilliantly and gave himself third degree burns in the process only to lose miserably to Dealla and the rest of her murder of crows. It's often where he went now when a reprieve was needed and usually, it was clear of any students lingering around because of its distance from the Common Rooms. Well, until now. The Fourth Year turned the corner and spotted the smaller boy looking quite pensive with his elbows peering off into the depths of the ravines etched deep into the mountains. " Don't jump now. " The upperclassman teased, deciding to moving himself deeper into the Viaduct a couple of years further away to give the other space if he had wanted to be in his own thoughts. " There's much better ways to deal with staring at the void than staring back. " It was clear that the other's short stature would make him a first year and Harlan was certain he'd seen him sitting on the Gryffindor Table in the Great Hall, at least once, but that didn't necessarily mean much. " You're a lion, right? " Levity being important, the teenager was willing to ensure the boy wasn't actually contemplating anything serious before he'd focus on his own jumbled thoughts. " Think i've seen you sitting on the table. But I gotta be honest, you all kind of look the same to me. " Harlan had been a bit preoccupied recently with his own research and focusing on refining his Quidditch skills after their embarrassing loss to the Hufflepuff Team this year. At the very least, he hadn't wanted to look so foolish in the remainder games this year. It might mean his own hand in strategy and re-examining the team's strengths and drilling that forward. Another of the reasons why Harlan had wanted a quiet place to think. Oh well, he'd collect the karmic value in helping someone in need and keep it moving. |
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Swallows, Briefly
| — | —date. [ 01/12/25 ]——————word count. [ 553 ]— —interacting with @harlan montgomery — Roland slightly jolted as if half-violently pulled from a deep slumber, turning his face toward the sudden call. Don't jump now? Oh God, he mused privately, his shoulders instantly slumping - did he seriously look that desperate? "Nah, I'm good. Not planning to go down there," he said, side-eyeing the massive drop off the viaduct as he slowly pulled his subara back into place. "Unless, of course, you're planning to push me." He realised a moment too late that the dark appendum was not necessarily required, yet a small, crooked grin had already claimed its place on his face. During the two months of his journey within the castle walls, he hadn't really talked to any upperclassmen besides the prefects barking orders. To speak with absolute precision, this lad who now stood before him was the very first non-first-year student actually initiating a greeting. Whilst Roland had no siblings, he had frequently observed his buddy Nate, back in Dover, obsessing over his older brother Andrew and his crew. Roland was basically in that exact same boat these days. He couldn't help but peek from behind elephantine stone columns in the corridors, casting sidelong glances at the older students whose effortless friendship and innate coolness he secretly longed for, while conversing with his contemporaries. Roland maintained a vague recollection of a captivating quote concerning the 'void' and 'looking into it', or something to that effect, but he couldn't for the life of him remember how it actually went. His wit decided to give him no aid now, stripping him of the chance to offer a cunning jest. Alas, life wasn't always fair, and it was kind even less often than it was fair. Emitting an amused snort, he offered a faint smile. "Maybe I'm just waiting to see who's gonna blink first," he said. Then, turning his shoulders slowly to the older lad, "Though I guess staring at you would be the healthier option anyway." The Marin boy felt a hum of pleasure at having been noticed, however cursorily. Even if this recognition was merely the inevitable outcome of sharing the same table every evening rather than any genuine interest, it was enough. It was only then that Roland actually took a good look at the other boy's features and finally placed him. "Yep," he answered, "I'm a lion," throwing up a casual victory sign. "But a different one." He dug into his robe and pulled out his wand. "I bear the shortest wand... like ever," he noted with a perfectly self-deprecating smile. Angling a finger towards his feet, "And these are total knockoffs," he added, "My dad says people worshipping brands are complete idiots." A sudden brightness ignited in his blue eyes, that specific kind of gleam of someone believing they're about to deliver a clever line. "And then there's my name. Roland Domagoj. That, too, sets me apart from the herd, I reckon." Oh, now he was worried he might seem too know-it-all and verbose. To take the situation into a realm unaccompanied by wordplay and a hint of sassiness, he continued, "And you're... our famous broomracer, aren't you?" He raised his eyebrows, not quite sure. "Or the Quidditch player. I could swear I saw you on a broomstick. But, you see, I'm not very aware of the sports agenda around here yet." ═════════════════════ ═════════════════════( codes by uly & banner credit goes to harlan ! )— | — |
| sta • 6 | eva • 5 | str • 2 THEATRE KID wis • 9 | arc • 7 | acc • 6 | the muggle condition THROUGH⠀THE⠀YEARS every step a scene worth watching |