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Freestyle Roleplaying / Re: it was all a lie...// invited
« Last post by Brendan McCrae on 01/15/2018 at 04:31 »
He felt the pain before he had even realized what happened. His head whipped to the side and Bren bit the inside of his cheek at the moment of contact. Hands clenched at his side as Bren desperately tried not to cradle the side of his face she had just violated.

"I'm not sorry. You deserved that."

The boy didn't argue. He definitely did deserve that. But now that it was done, maybe that was all she needed. Maybe he could still fix them.

"It's over, Brendan. We're over. I just can't do it."

Or maybe not.

He didn't even holler after her, or try to stop her. Obviously Lita had made up her mind. Tugging the sides of his robes straight, Bren took in a deep breath and hastily made his own exit, avoiding the eye contact of anyone who had just witnessed their very public breakup. 

Why couldn't Chloe keep her damn mouth shut?

Freestyle Roleplaying / Re: it was all a lie...// invited
« Last post by Lita Chevalier on 01/15/2018 at 04:23 »
"Damn it, Lita, would you just listen to me!"

She sighed loudly, watching his emotion explode to the surface. The tears kept coming, and her shoulders shook with a silent, suppressed sob.

"It was an accident. I'm...I'm sorry."

It was as if she saw red and all of her anger and frustration came out at once. Palm connected with cheek, harder than with Chloe, if that were even possible. Her breathing had picked up and her teeth tore into her bottom lip as fresh tears came rolling. The noise of skin against skin made a shudder course through her body and she hastily brought her hand back.

"I'm not sorry. You deserved that," she said shakily, as if she didn't actually believe it. "It's over, Brendan. We're over. I just can't do it."

And with that, Lita ran past him, her destination the common room.
Freestyle Roleplaying / Re: it was all a lie...// invited
« Last post by Brendan McCrae on 01/15/2018 at 03:57 »
"And that makes it okay?!"

"Well, no-"

It wasn't okay, and he knew that. As much as Bren wanted to believe that not telling her was the right thing to do, he knew it wasn't. But he also knew that telling her would be the wrong thing, because she wouldn't try to understand what really happened.

"Because you both lied me for months, that means it didn't mean anything?!"

He tried to ignore the stares from the other students around them. This was not the right place to be doing this. But it wasn't like he could ask her to go somewhere else to talk. Lita was obviously not in mood for conceding to any requests.

"Obviously it meant something if you had to hide it, Brendan!"

"Damn it, Lita, would you just listen to me!"

One hand ran through his hair as he tried to think of what he could say to make this right, to make her understand. But he was coming up blank.

"It was an accident. I'm...I'm sorry."

Freestyle Roleplaying / Re: it was all a lie...// invited
« Last post by Lita Chevalier on 01/15/2018 at 03:50 »
"Well, yes, but..."

"But nothing, Brendan! You kissed her, and that her wasn't ME!"

Her lower lip began to quiver, and she had to bite down hard to keep the full blown sobs coming. Lita sighed shakily as she tried to calm her breathing, and ran her hands over her face, not caring about messing up her make up, or hair for that matter. She took a couple steps forward, past her boyfriend, trying to gather her thoughts.

"It didn't mean anything, honest! And it was months ago."

She turned around on her heel, ready for the next round.

"And that makes it okay?! Because you both lied me for months, that means it didn't mean anything?!" she yelled, not worried about the students leaving and returning to the ball just a few feet behind them.

"Obviously it meant something if you had to hide it, Brendan!"
Freestyle Roleplaying / Re: it was all a lie...// invited
« Last post by Brendan McCrae on 01/15/2018 at 03:40 »
She stopped suddenly, and Bren hastily took a step back, almost tripping in the process.

"Not what I think? How could it not be what I think, Bren? You KISSED her, for godric's sake!"

Okay, so maybe it was what she thought. But Lita didn't have the full story, he was sure of it. He just needed to explain, and then everything would be fine. They would be fine.

"Well, yes, but..."

How could he explain it though? Bren saw the look on her face. She was pissed, and clearly not thinking straight. Anything he said now would just make it worse. But he had to try, right?

"It didn't mean anything, honest! And it was months ago."
Freestyle Roleplaying / Re: it was all a lie...// invited
« Last post by Lita Chevalier on 01/15/2018 at 03:16 »
Angry tears began to fall from her eyes, undoubtedly messing up the perfect job Chloe had done with her makeup. Chloe, she sneered as the back of her hand wiped the tears away as she made her way through the crowd. Their peers began to stare as the commotion had started, and continued until she fully made her exit through the doors. As she stepped out into the empty entrance, a sob escaped with a heave of her chest.

But they couldn't leave well enough alone, could they?

Fingers grasped her forearm and she instantly knew who it was before her named escaped his lips.

"Lita, wait!"

Jerking her arm back hastily, the brunette stopped in her tracks and spun around to face him. Though her expression was that of fury, the tears continued to fall from her cheeks. She didn't bother to wipe them away, not when she knew they would come more freely as he continued talking.

"Please, Lita, stop! It's not what you think!"

"Not what I think? How could it not be what I think, Bren? You KISSED her, for godric's sake!"

There was nothing else to say. It was cut and dry. Nothing he could say would make it better.
1952 / Re: Dreams // Caitlin
« Last post by Caitlin McLeod on 01/14/2018 at 22:37 »
It was easy to doze off. Not completely but until she was caught halfway between sleep and waking, aware of the quiet, familiar bustle, the air of organized hectic that came with the infirmary, the small noises of nurses moving about on their business, checking on the few patients while trying not to disturb them. Aware of the heartbeat and the steady rise and fall of his chest next to her. In and out, rise and fall.

Aware, most of all, of the quiet.

Not the kind that came with low levels of noise, the kind you could experience sometimes on a winter night, alone with the stars, the cold, crisp air and the snow, a light blanket that covered up all the rough edges of the world and omitted the small sounds, when there was nothing there to clutter the silence with words or sound and you were alone with your thoughts.
Neither was it the sometimes a little oppressive silence of the library, alive with the hushed voices of students who hoped they wouldn't draw the attention of the librarian, the dry sounds of rustling pages and quills scraping over parchment to finish this essay or that assignment.

It wasn't even the silence of a hospital though they were in one. Not that heavy silence, leaden with desperate hope and suffocating worry, the low mutter of people exchanging excruciating trivialities because they couldn't bear to even think the important questions let alone ask them out loud, yet couldn't bear the silence any longer, trying to fill the void with only more of the same.

It was a silence of the mind, of thoughts dripping away slowly like thick syrup, of a tired mind, lulled by warmth and softness, by the familiar and comforting, by the exhaustion of the duel. Her mind, usually alive with a million thoughts and ideas, with new impressions being sorted, processed and analyzed, even or maybe especially when she was trying to sleep, was quiet.

If she had paused to think about it for a moment, she might have been unsettled. As it was, she was perfectly content to lay back and revel in a moment that, as far as she was concerned right now, was just about perfect.
And shared with just the right person.

Caitlin shifted slightly like she had twice before, mostly to move a little before settling down pretty much in the same position she had held stubbornly since getting here, snuggled up close, one hand loosely entwined with his, her head resting against his shoulder.

Relaxed and half asleep as she was, it took her a while to realize the change when it came. The slight shift in the rhythm of his breath nearly unnoticed as her sleepy thoughts were still musing about their own uncharacteristic silence. Or, well... relative silence anyway.
But when he squeezed her hand she finally did notice that something very significant had changed, smiling into his shoulder as she squeezed back. “Hey there, sleeping beauty,” she muttered, voice barely loud enough for him to hear.

The last thing she wanted right now was for one of the nurses to notice and decide this had to be the perfect moment to check on them. Sure it was necessary at some point – she had done enough time in the wing to know that – but it didn't have to be right now.
Still, as good as the moment felt – despite the various throbs and numb spots, the headache and syrupy thoughts he had left her with – and as little as she wanted to be interrupted right now, she was glad that he was finally awake. That last spell had hit pretty hard. A lot harder than she had intended it to, anyway.
1952 / Re: Frozen Dreams // Cait
« Last post by Caitlin McLeod on 01/14/2018 at 21:30 »
“You know, I never really understood that approach. Why pass on a last summer with your friends and no responsibilities to hold you back? Or at least no more responsibilities than you choose to have.” She grinned cheerfully, not bothered in the least by the added weight pulling her forward for a moment. “It's not like it really matters whether I start pretending to be a responsible adult a few weeks earlier or not, right? The world sure isn't going anywhere.”

Ice skating was something she had grown up with, not something she had ever actually thought about as hard or out of the ordinary. The lake froze over and soon enough people brought out their skates, enjoying a few moments gliding across the frozen surface.
She had fallen plenty of times, now that she actually thought about it, especially in the start but it had never really bothered her. Because for every fall she got plenty of time on the ice and that was second only to flying.
“Lots and lots of practice, really. And besides, once you get the initial idea it's not really all that different from flying. All about balance. How to shift your weight, angle your body and which way to push your skates to get the result you want. But once you got the balance part down, the rest will come in time.” At least for her it had. Seasoned with lots and lots of falls.

She eyed her friend for a moment, looked down at herself, then back to Mia, frowning a little as she tried to recall how she had first learned.
She had been so little back then...
“Alright. First thing you'll want to do is relax. I know it feels weird at first, but so what? It's definitely safer than flying. Bend your knees a little more. You'll want your center of weight to be lower and centered over your skates, not your ankles. Maybe lean forward a little as well, and if you wand you can spread your arms a little for now to help you stabilize, but not too high.”

At that point she stopped, chuckling. That just wouldn't do. “Okay, let me give that another try... theory is all well and good, but I don't think it's what you need.” It went against every instinct, but she forced her body into something that at least resembled Mia's stance. “So. This is more or less how you stand right now. And this...” she dropped back into what felt right and pushed it just a little further to make for a clearer distinction “is how you avoid falling quite so often.” To demonstrate, Caitlin took a few quick strides for either stance, although it was a struggle to go back to the mistakes she was fairly sure every beginner had made at some point. “It's no cure all, of course, but it should help you keep your balance. And the rest is really mostly practice, with a dash of confidence. The ice is fairly good here, but it's still a little uneven, and that will throw you off unless you really push the way you want to go.”
She grinned at the younger girl. “I could stick around a bit if you want?”
1952 / Re: Grooves || Bas
« Last post by Leona Mathenjwa on 01/08/2018 at 18:39 »
In Africa, where poverty among the native communities ran rampant, material possessions were few and far between, yet a strong sense of sharing and giving pervaded their communities. This was something she missed more than anything. Here in Britain, she had found some kindred souls with gracious hearts ready to extend a helping hand when needed, but they seemed to be the exception, certainly not the rule.

In the minute or so she had spoken to him, Leona could tell that Bas was one such exception. She felt incredibly grateful, not only that he was offering her a handmade trinket, but that he had done so so readily, and for a stranger such as herself, with the brightest of smiles.

All she had to give in return was her song, a bit of home made not by herself but by a miner much like her father had been. Mbube, the song which had lifted many a heart and given rise to a new form of communal creativity. “It is a song by the group The Evening Birds,” She explained in response to his questioning repetition of the word. “Uyimbube means ‘you are a lion’.”

Throughout her sixteen years, Leona had repeated this phrase, voiced it into song, whenever she was in need of musical courage. Repeating those catchy lyrics made her feel stronger, like a lioness herself, like a King (forbidden though such thoughts may be) capable of confronting all the terror life threw her way.

"A lion to go with your owl?"

“You are the one who made the owl!” It had started out as a question, but ended not with a question mark, but with the exclamation of realisation. She had loved that owl from the moment she’d seen it, had considered herself incredibly lucky to have gotten a gift etched by hand rather than a thoughtless dirty shirt. Even now, she had it in her coat pocket. Gloved hands reached in, searching for the correct shape and texture, pulling out to show it proudly.

“I believe you also got my necklace, though I understand if you do not want to wear it.” Boys here seemed more reticent to wear such accessories.
1952 / Re: Grooves || Bas
« Last post by Bas Shepherd on 01/04/2018 at 04:35 »
He smiled sheepishly as her eyes on him pushed time between the words she offered, and he took a moment to reach them, from one corner of a mouth to another.

Leona was right about his sister, she was lucky. She was small and precious, carried her unique fervor with some matter of skill that permitted her anything as long as she concluded with a hug. Even the damage she'd done to his their chickens by feeding them sweets for a fortnight before he'd realized, Bunny could do no wrong. With her gifts at four, her saccharine smile, she was lucky. It just had nothing to do with him. Because (he supposed) he loved her, Bas didn't mind.

Bunny was true enough to never need doubt. She had decided for herself, despite never being told, that he was her brother, after all. He didn't have the heart to tell her she was only half right.

He thought about why Leona might say lucky, and wondered whether gifts or love or rabbits were the thing. Would she find herself lucky to receive a figure made just for her, and did it bring more luck a big cat's shape, given a sort of life between her palms?
 And what of the luck of the lamb that shaped it?

"Am-boo-beh," he repeated clumsily, the syllables each carrying a question in their tone, made melodic on his accent, but more on his smile. Her plunge into rhythm, so immediate, like an answer to something he couldn't see, kept the color in his expression. He turned his attention only briefly back to the chunk of wood, measured out the image with a few marks from the tip of his blade.  "I think I can manage that, yeah. Alright then. A lion to go with your owl?"
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