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Author Topic: stargazers || cyanne (npc ship things)  (Read 266 times)

* Marjorie Laskos

    (04/04/2017 at 18:42)
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Joanne Williams

beginning of august
near the quidditch pitch
at sunset

The grass was warm and soft under her legs and Joanne was sure that if she listened hard enough she could hear it pushing through the soil as the bright blades worked their way closer to the sun. Stenotaphrum secundatum, growing upward of two inches a week, sending its shoots out through rhizomes under the earth so that all of the plant was connected and intertwined beneath the surface.

Intertwined, like her heart and mind with Cyprian’s. Connected and able to cover as much territory as they wanted when they put their thoughts together (they could take over the world if they wanted to, leaving it lush and green in their wake as they walked hand in hand down its paths and left it better than they had found it--everything was better when they were together, after all, and that was an indisputable fact.)

She leaned back and looked up toward the sky, watching as the hues of orange began to match her vivid hair and for a moment she closed her blue eyes and let all that azure fade from the world. Everything bright and fiery left, she felt as though she could melt into the sky. Smiling, she tilted her head and cast a glance toward Cyprian as she opened her eyes again.

Joanne wondered at how the world might look through his frames, how the light refracted through his lenses and if the change of perspective might also reflect a change of mind (light diverging and refocusing through glass).

A smile pulled at her lips. “How many of the constellations do you know, Cyprian?”
we've got our own
sense of time

* Marina Lamont

    (04/07/2017 at 14:24)
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Cyprian Copperstone

Muggle scientists and mathematicians had long tried to find the elusive formula to explain the divine phenomenon of love. They named it an evolutionary development meant to ensure reproduction, they blamed it on hormones running rampant when they came into contact with someone else’s chemistry. They simply had to find a way to fit the sentiment into a rational mould.

Cyprian Copperstone could understand how they’d be compelled to do so, but ever since Joanne Williams had walked into his life, he’d come to realize that love was more akin to magic - magic even the most mundane muggles could produce. It ebbed and flowed within his veins, tingled with every breath and exuded from his each and every pore. Such things couldn’t be rationalized. They didn’t need to be. They could simply be felt, and only thus could they also be understood.

And he felt it in his very core, that even with such a spectacular sunset on the horizon, it was no match for her beauty. For her cerulean eyes bluer than the sky, for her hair ablaze as the setting sun, for her light shining brighter than any of the stars that already deigned to twinkle in the darkening sky.

“How many of the constellations do you know, Cyprian?”

“Quite a few,” An understatement of course. Like any self-respecting Ravenclaw, Cyprian had poured over books on the subject, studied their origins, their meanings, their effect on the magical tides that rose and fell through each and every one of them.

What gaps remained in his knowledge could be filled by Joanne’s own insights, and vice versa. It was an immutable law of the universe that the two of them orbited around one another like a perfectly balanced binary system.They burned brighter together.
I've got to be free

Free to face the life that's ahead of me

* Marjorie Laskos

    (04/18/2017 at 03:29)
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Of course he knew a fair few of the constellations, and likely the distances between the stars and the amount of time it took for light to reach the earth through space and the calculation for the time for his hand to travel to hers if they walked point three meters apart. He certainly knew the right combination of words and letters and looks to give her that made her heart soar to those celestial heights gazed at.

And Joanne was sure that any constellations he didn’t know, she could fill in. And any that neither knew could be found in a book, or perhaps would be newly discovered by their discerning eyes, new things she could name after him as a constant reminder of the bright points he brought to her life. And how even when she couldn’t see him, he was still there, ever present and shining and waiting to come back around.

He would always be there, a pair of satellites, drawn in by an irresistible gravitational pull (they were simply facts of nature, like the existence of the moon and the heat of the sun and that hearts had four valves and that hers beat for Cyprian).

Sighing happily (a relaxation of the diaphragm, intercostal muscles easing and forcing out carbon dioxide, image of medical charts and drawings on worn parchment and the crinkle of turning pages and the softness of leather covers), she turned to face Cyprian.

Catching his dark eyes with her own--sky and earth, bright and dark, opposites made better by being together--she couldn’t help but grin.

“Can you believe we’re about to start our seventh year?”
can we go back to the world we had?
it's the world we've been dreaming of