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Post by Deleted on Jun 11, 2016 16:15:53 GMT -5
[ uniform | evening ] With his Charms class being abruptly cancelled due to unspecified reasons, Mordecai decided to take the time to spend time on his lonesome. Not to imply that he didn't constantly spend time alone, of course, because that was all Mordecai ever seemed to do. But, he decided today was a good day to properly isolate himself a little bit further, in order to go back to his roots just a tad. Or perhaps simply to indulge himself. Seeing as he hardly ever left the bloody castle anymore, save for the few times he went to class in the greenhouses. Even then, he rarely wandered off afterward. There was always someplace to be. If not someplace to be, someplace to sleep or eat or study. No, today he would spend time with the snow and the trees and his thoughts. Deeply introspective, hopefully. Or perhaps nothing at all. In truth, often he found himself feeling watched when he edged away from the herd. But that was silly, wasn't it? Even if he had no... reasonable reason to feel this way, surely... his fears could not reach school grounds. It was growing harder to say due to the headmaster. What did it matter, anyway? Mordecai was all they wanted, probably, if they wanted him at all anymore. They probably didn't. He didn't dwell on the thought. It was tiring. He no longer had the will to think in such a way, though in his younger years he had felt it so certainly. He could walk through the cool grounds without fear. He could slip off his boots, climb into a tree, and gather himself without worry. Mordecai could have that anxious pit in his gut, he could glance over his shoulder from time to time, but he knew better. He knew better. He knew better. He knew they weren't out there. And so there he would sit for the evening, staring out at nothing, but thoroughly at peace and out of view. And there he sat, for a time. As the sky turned a hue of dirty orange and pink, through the grey clouds it glowed, he finally eased himself down. Legs dangling below, before he landed gracefully, as this was something he was accustomed to. He pulled his sweater back over his stomach, hiding away the pale, tucked in blouse below, and, with his eyes, searched the ground for his... boots? Where the hell were his boots? Mordecai definitely left them by the upturned root and now they were gone. How... very typical. With a sigh, he instead pulled out a pack from his back pocket, placing a singular cigarette between his lips. Surely, his shoes would turn up eventually, as most things did. He normally got back the things that disappeared, not before he panicked, of course, but there were always cases where they did not. And perhaps he didn't really care. Boots were replaceable, in the very least. Not like homework that's due within minutes, or his grandmother's necklace. But at least he could make up for the latter by pretending he found her necklace that looked vaguely like her necklace for 100 galleons, and she was too off her rocker to realize. That was love. Or whatever. He placed his thumb at the end of his cigarette, as if holding a lighter, and lit it with a lone flame that sparked from its tip momentarily. Whatever, indeed. |
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Post by Amantia Loup on Jun 12, 2016 1:39:41 GMT -5
Amantia coughed. Loudly.
It seemed like everyone was taking up smoking lately. Smoking or some even more horrid habit. It was funny, Amantia thought, because so far she'd not seen anyone trying to hit up the greenhouses or the potions lab. And there were plenty of illicit substances in there, if you knew what you were looking for.
"I don't suppose these are yours?" she asked, holding up a pair of boots.
At least, they once were boots. Right now they were serving as impromptu flower pots. Amantia had seen an absolutely gorgeous specimen of digitalis purpurea and those boots had been right there, almost begging her to borrow them.
But now, there was this boy, standing barefoot right where she'd found them. Not that Amantia cared, particularly. Back home, everything belonged to everyone and she was used to just taking whatever she found, so long as nobody else was using it. However, Hogwarts had taught her not everyone operated this way. In fact, she was, apparently, in the minority when it came to sharing.
This had the potential to turn ugly. But honestly, if he didn't want people borrowing his things, he ought not leave them lying about.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 12, 2016 18:28:20 GMT -5
When Mordecai heard the obviously judgmental cough behind him, he turned to the source apathetically. There was always something he did that someone didn't like, and he cared very little to apologize for it anymore. And as his hazel eyes fell on the unfamiliar girl, they spotted his boots within her clutches. Well, at least that was quick and painless. But, she had placed tall flowers within their depths, and he knew this wasn't going to be as simple as asking for them back, was it? Mordecai refrained from ever assuming anyone would ever be simple, especially not the type to steal boots for makeshift flower pots.
His toes curled in the snow, but he made no move to imply he was uncomfortable. The snow didn't actually bother him one bit. He glanced around her to see if she was alone, before concluding that it was (possibly) just the two of them.
"I suppose you're correct," Came his passive reply. She had the stench of dog on her, past the regular human stench. He worried she had some sort of canine trotting about the grounds that would be joining them soon... If that was the case, the boots would be her's, and he'd be getting the hell out of there.
However, he flicked the ashes from his cigarette with idle curiosity as he gaze down at her, before inwardly turning back to the topic at hand. "Fancy what you did with them," He stated, in attempt to be lighthearted. In truth, it was an endearing display, albeit unexpected. Nonetheless, Mordecai had experienced much weirder, and she was likely just trying to get her kicks on a gloomy, Scottish day. "May I ask for them back, or are you not quite finished?" A faint grin fell across his expression then, but his eyes were tired. He made no move to apprehend his shoes, despite of this.
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Post by Amantia Loup on Jun 13, 2016 18:27:37 GMT -5
Amantia squinted a the boy and tipped her head sharply, as though trying to follow a half-heard noise.
"Is that not what you're doing right now, then?" she asked.
Of course she wasn't quite finished, but that was no matter. Even if these flowers didn't survive, she could find some use for them. Although the chances of them becoming completely frozen on the short walk up to the greenhouses was slim. It wasn't that cold.
The boy on the other hand, he was far more interesting, even than Digitalis and that took some doing. She skipped a few steps closer and swung his boots, tied at the laces, toward him.
"You're not like the others," she observed. "I mean, this isn't a good spot for attention seeking."
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Post by Deleted on Jun 14, 2016 15:38:33 GMT -5
"Is that not what you're doing right now, then?"
The grin that ghosted his expression spread then, the corners of his lips pulling back as he chuckled lightly. A bit of sass was always welcome in his book. He breathed in his cigarette for a moment, before replying, "Fair enough. I just wanted to be able to retract my statement in case you had more craft projects in mind." He expelled the smoke away from her, glancing over his shoulder momentarily through habit. He did not feel the eyes on his back, but he was always fidgeting about something. Skittish about something. Anxious about something. Anxious about her dog breath. Anxious about his studies. Anxious about the time ticking down until the sun was gone. The darkness was both Mordecai's lover and his fear; he felt at home then, but saw the shadows dance in the corner of his eye, eternally wondering if there was something in nothing. Inwardly, he was calculating the time and fretting, but outwardly his sleepy expression remained just that, and he turned his gaze back down to her.
When she stepped forward, Mordecai nearly took a step back, but he forced himself to stay in place. Her offering was unexpected, but he appreciated it, even if all he did was furrow his brow in response at first. But, he took this moment to drop his half-cigarette and snuff it out in the snow between his toes. He picked it back up once it was dead, and stuffed it in his pocket; too conscious of the times he'd find butts in the bogs and his mother would tut about how gross muggles were. But this was also a peace offering to the girl, as he figured she would appreciate the gesture in return.
And she... complimented him? Or perhaps sort of complimented him? It felt like a compliment, in the very least. He hooked his fingers under the shoestrings, away from her hand to retain his distance, and pulled them back into his possession. He wasn't quite sure what to say. Thank you, you too? "Uh, 'm not very fond of attention," He admitted, lifting the shoes up to inspect them, trying to draw his attention to anything else. But he looked back to her, in ponder, "... Seems a bit early for foxgloves, doesn't it? Poor things must be struggling." They often grew early in the summer outside his mother's cottage, becoming a vibrant shade of purple as the heat and humidity grew deeper within the season. But Mordecai added nothing else on the matter, deciding instead to sling the boots over his neck, rather than bother untying them. The frost had a slight bite as the sun went down, but he paid it no mind, but he understood now why she would hide the plants in cold weather boots.
But it was none of his business what she was doing, or even who she was for that matter.
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Post by Amantia Loup on Jun 17, 2016 1:06:01 GMT -5
"Why smoke then?" she asked, genuinely curious. Amantia had never met someone who smoked for any other reason. "Not like you can say you didn't know it was poisonous. And if you want to die, there are plenty of less miserable ways to go about it."
She just shrugged in response to his other question.
"It's the forbidden forest," she said. "You really think anything in there cares about seasons?"
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Post by Deleted on Jun 18, 2016 1:01:42 GMT -5
What she went on about now was possibly the most peculiar out of everything, but Mordecai nodded slowly. He understood her reasoning, but the idea of him smoking for attention was... laughable at best. He always hid himself away when he smoked, or at least hung out the window so his dorm mates wouldn't be bothered it (and that lot didn't give a shit about most things, so), no that she knew that. But this was a habit Mordecai learned ages before, partially due to his addictive nature, but through desperate means. It was feasible, and kept him away from therapists for a while. Though, that had only lasted for so long.
How did one explain anxiety to someone who they had no idea about, whether or not she understood, through the fear that she wasn't well versed in it and would just make matters worse. One did not simply explain their mental faults to people who possibly had no idea what the problem even was past public assumption. It didn't work. Even if he doubted she was like that, seeing how bizarre she was, it was always impossible to pin people.
"It's relaxing," He told her plainly, "When you need something quick and cheap to take the edge off. Rather die to this than the stress of NEWTs." Though... He sorta doubted it would kill the likes of him, whom had a history of guzzling poisons, whether he wanted to or not.
"You really think anything in there cares about seasons?"
She made a point, and he snickered and shrugged. "Ah, sorry. I should have realized there's no semblance of sanity in these parts," Or most of the world, but that was painfully pretentious, wasn't it? Mordecai still assumed the laws of nature still worked, as these things knew what they wanted and needed, did they not? Or perhaps they adapted to feed off other things. Mordecai didn't like the sudden similarities between himself and these purple flowers.
"I guess that's the enticing part of it all," He added, stepping forward then, toward the castle. His eyes constantly focusing on the sky behind her. He had no idea what this girl's intentions were, but he, inwardly, was sure she had her fix and would be done with him by now. "And what about you, Miss...?" He slipped, turning back to her once more, "What were you looking to find out here?" After all, she admitted to emerging from the forest, and seemed to have a fondness for loneliness. Asked him questions and all he did was respond. He wasn't the type to pry, but certainly the type to question the quizzical.
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Post by Amantia Loup on Jun 19, 2016 19:01:46 GMT -5
"I'm not sure I'd be relaxed if I knew what I was doing was going to kill me," Amantia mused. "Though, full moons, so I s'pose I can't talk."
She squinted at him, wrinkling her nose, as he brought up sanity; was he implying that she was insane? But then he asked her name and everything became clear. Amantia hadn't thought there was anyone in this school who didn't know who she was. She would have to fix that.
"Amantia," she told him. "Amantia Loup, otherwise known as the werewolf girl."
"Actually, I was out mushrooming."
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Post by Deleted on Jun 20, 2016 22:35:15 GMT -5
His brow pinched when she mentioned the full moon bit, wondering initially if that was just her trying to be funny. But when she introduced herself, she added the explanation: Werewolf. That explained the stench, the weird sense of dread he had around her. Mordecai only met a few werewolves prior to her, and there was always a slight struggle to be around him. It fit, he supposed, since he never met a dog that liked him, but werewolves were still human and they still had their own feelings. To say he didn't get along with them would be wrong. He did. It was just hard at times. He couldn't help but be wary. It took a lot in a person to not be around someone, or something, they sensed danger in. That's what he was to them.
Someday it would all make sense, and by then he'd be likely living in a chicken-footed hut, picking off humans for stews, hopefully deep where no one could find him.
Or whatever it was his mother did. The stories blurred and became gorier than the last.
The first thing he thought, however, was how her name was Mushroom Wolf and she was going Mushrooming. He knew that she wasn't messing with him, but it was a rather cute picture before him, and he couldn't help but smile.
"Mordecai Finn," He replied, keeping his sentiments to himself, as well as the urge to ask if she found any Fly Agaric along the trees. He knew it would be rude, or perhaps he felt like it wasn't a very nice thing to say. He didn't have an introduction to go along with it. Just as he was a nobody, he had nothing to say about himself.
"For hobby or for potions?" He asked, treading a bit closer to the castle again, "Would you mind if we walked and talked? Or perhaps you have more interior decorating to tend to?"
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Post by Amantia Loup on Jun 26, 2016 1:01:13 GMT -5
Amantia shrugged.
"Why not both?" she said. "Actually, hobby, mostly. Some fungi species are just so pretty, don't you think? Especially the poisonous ones."
"That," she pointed to his boots, "is not interior decorating. Except the interior of your boots. Which you shouldn't have left lying around if you cared so much."
"Anyhow, it's herbology. They're medicinal."
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Post by Deleted on Jul 3, 2016 22:17:29 GMT -5
Mordecai grinned at Amantia's sentiments, the most enthusiasm he emulated throughout the entire conversation. "Ahhh. There's nothing more elegant than a bundle of Bleeding Tooth," This was something that Mordecai truly felt, though refrained from musing about in most company. He was an wildman, after all, his heart laid in the forests and the fungi. And, well, the oozing blood-like goo that came from a Bleeding Tooth was beyond fascinating to him. Some people had an innate fear of prickly, dripping holes. Trypophobia, he believed it was called. Mordecai had the opposite. He was utterly in love with it.
She pointed to his boots and he followed her finger with his hazel gaze. Shrugging innocently, he corrected himself, "Exterior decoration, sorry." Pots for her plants. But that was beside the point. "If you need my boots, you can take them, you know," He told her, serious in tone and expression, despite the ridiculous conversation, "I don't need them. I fair fine in the snow, unlike these little Foxgloves." And he had another pair, if he could recall. And when she was done, if she wanted, she could give them back. It did not matter. It was different, allowing someone to take something of his, rather than losing it by sheer force of bad luck.
He rested his hands on the boots' toes.
"What sort of medicinal mushroom does Miss Amantia need?" He asked, like a caricature of himself, drawn down in a children's book. A bit of a horrifying thought. "I'm asking a lot of questions, aren't I?" He held back, toward the castle, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed with himself. It wasn't often someone was okay with his presence, especially one with such canine attributes. He highly considered just walking away, ruining the banter himself, make things easier.
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