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Author Topic: let me down slowly [Vagary AU]  (Read 192 times)

* Avery Elliot

    (04/12/2019 at 01:14)
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thursday, september 1st, 2011
waxing crescent

“ELLIOT, AVERY.”

His name was given to the masses loud enough to make him frown, conscious of the tens of ears that leaned forward, of the prickle that might have been magic or their energy or his own anxiety running down his veins. He knew no one, but now they would all know him.

Avery knew the fae waited for any opportunity and here, where they were alive, names were given freely.
                 He didn’t know if they knew magic at all.

He stepped forward, leaving the small brunette who glared at his hair far behind.

He stepped forward to Hufflepuff moments later, the rounded edges of its name around the corner of his amber and citrine.

He stepped forward to their rooms, huddled near the edge of their bumblebee group — onto the edge of her trailing robes, now trimmed in scarlet.

“Sorry,” Avery said absently, an afterthought more for the sake of karma than concern.
« Last Edit: 04/12/2019 at 01:14 by Avery Elliot »
You carry the heavens in your eyes
(Like one of those old Greek tragedies)
and I'd call you Atlas but
he wasn't given a choice to hold the stars
(You were.)

* Vega Nettlebed

    (04/12/2019 at 22:41)
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The rest of the Gryffindors were quite a way in front now, some of them already climbing up the staircase that she'd seen moving as they'd lined up in the entrance hall to await their fate at the Sorting. But it wasn't that she'd been left behind. No, she'd snuck away on purpose to try and find that boy again. Thijs, he'd said his name was, when she'd tapped him on the shoulder as they'd both waited for their turn to go.

She still hadn't found him, though. He was small and pale, and there were too many others milling around for her to have a proper look. Too many others, including the one that had just stepped on her robes.

"Sorry," he said, but she didn't think he sounded very sorry at all.

Blue eyes narrowed, "Liar."
« Last Edit: 04/12/2019 at 22:42 by Vega Nettlebed »

* Avery Elliot

    (04/15/2019 at 07:46)
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Avery blinked at the girl, attention drawn fully down to her scowl and narrowed gaze. An eyebrow lifted, curiosity overriding concern in the face of her displeasure. It was not often distaste was given so vehemently this early, he typically had a chance to try cleansing them first.

“Perhaps,” he admitted easily. Avery wondered if this girl was one of the people he read about, the ones that infiltrated your mind to see everything you tried to hide. “Though you will have to be more specific.”
You carry the heavens in your eyes
(Like one of those old Greek tragedies)
and I'd call you Atlas but
he wasn't given a choice to hold the stars
(You were.)

* Vega Nettlebed

    (04/16/2019 at 20:25)
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He didn't look nearly as offended as he should have. He gave in far too quickly, too.

Vega was used to spending hours bickering with her sisters -- Nashira, usually -- until they had both forgotten what it was that they were arguing about but neither was yet willing to concede. They went on for days sometimes, those wars.

She didn't like the ease with which this victory came.

"You're not sorry," she snapped, deliberately trying to provoke. Fearful that this would still not be enough, she lifted her foot and brought it down hard upon his toes.

* Avery Elliot

    (04/22/2019 at 04:28)
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Avery had met her before, the ferocity in her eyes that almost led to desperation, the cruelty of her jagged edges he dared not catch on. She lived in memories of shadowed alleys and split lips as he darted back to the safety of home. A pride with something to prove.

He jerked back instinctually as pain laced up his foot, gasping in a mix of shock and disdain. Avery narrowed his gaze at her, the spite that straightened her back as she glared. Anger stirred on his tongue, almost enough to make him snap back, before he realized words would only offer more ammunition.

Instead, the boy shook his head and left -- with a slight favouring of his right foot.
You carry the heavens in your eyes
(Like one of those old Greek tragedies)
and I'd call you Atlas but
he wasn't given a choice to hold the stars
(You were.)

* Vega Nettlebed

    (04/23/2019 at 13:00)
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He left her hollow and seething.

monday 5 september 2011
first quarter


Through some unlucky turn of fate, Vega Nettlebed was currently sharing a workspace with the same boy whose toes she had deliberately trampled just four days before. It had not been her intention, upon leaving Gryffindor Tower at exactly the right moment to be on time for Potions, to get herself stuck in a vanishing step halfway down the spiral staircase, but this was unfortunately exactly what had happened.

When she'd finally shown up, six minutes late, this had been the only place left for her to take.

Ten minutes after her arrival and a stumbling apology to the professor, she was pouring six snake fangs' worth of fine powder into her cauldron and trying to ignore the Hufflepuff beside her. It didn't take too long for her to give up on the latter task.

"It says to crush them to a fine powder." She cast a pointed look at his mortar and what was left of the snake fangs in it. "Yours still looks lumpy to me."

* Avery Elliot

    (04/28/2019 at 02:38)
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He thought he had gotten lucky when no one filled the space beside him. It was a break from the constant press of everyone without a moment alone except when he used the loo. Bedrooms hummed with the overlapping consciousnesses, the Common Room of their vibrant energy, the hallways lined with stone that had seen more than a small boy trimmed in buttercup.

It was the closer to his luck when foot-crusher sat beside him and his toe thrummed in memory. Avery didn’t glance at her as she practically stumbled into the seat, spewing apology in a sincerity Avery never thought she would say it. Trying to follow the nonsensical direction of the potion they were making occupied enough of his attention he decided not to bring attention to himself.

"Yours still looks lumpy to me."

Avery flicked his eyes only to see her snake fangs, tilting his mortar slightly to better compare. “I guess I don’t crush things as easily,” he said without humour and let the pestle grind the lumps a bit more vigorously.
« Last Edit: 04/28/2019 at 07:14 by Avery Elliot »
You carry the heavens in your eyes
(Like one of those old Greek tragedies)
and I'd call you Atlas but
he wasn't given a choice to hold the stars
(You were.)

* Vega Nettlebed

    (04/28/2019 at 22:58)
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She hadn't meant to stand on his toes.

Well, no, that wasn't true. She had definitely meant to stand on his toes as she'd done it, but she hadn't meant to in the moments leading up to her attack. And after, as he'd limped away, she'd thought that perhaps she shouldn't have been quite so hasty.

Now, as it became quite clear that he still harboured some resentment and that he was apparently incapable of following a basic set of instructions, Vega changed her mind. His toes had deserved to be stomped on, and his potion deserved to be lumpy.

"Clearly," she snapped, looking first at the poorly-crushed fangs and then at him with what could only be described as disdain. With that, she turned back to her cauldron.

After a dash of Flobberworm mucus, several vigorous stirs, and four minutes and eleven seconds of stubborn silence, Vega gave up for a second time on trying to pretend that the boy didn't exist.

"So what are you good at, then?"

It clearly wasn't this.

* Avery Elliot

    (05/06/2019 at 05:34)
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Avery felt her gaze more than saw it, the curve of her displeasure to the sharpness of her profile as she turned away. He tried to grind the lumps down, but the noise of the pestle was all wrong with the foreign substance beneath its familiar weight and Avery’s neck prickled. He eventually just dumped the concoction into the cauldron and not-so-subtly watched the girl beside him for tips.

Too short a time later, the girl decided he was worth her attention after all. Avery had his chin in his palm, absently stirring the cauldron with his wand that was likely not doing anything helpful. He considered his answer only long enough to consider if his toes were in range. “Divination,” he answered with a small shrug, not uncaring but non-committal, “But we haven’t had class yet, so I can’t be sure how your divination goes.”
You carry the heavens in your eyes
(Like one of those old Greek tragedies)
and I'd call you Atlas but
he wasn't given a choice to hold the stars
(You were.)

* Vega Nettlebed

    (05/13/2019 at 09:46)
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"Divination," she repeated back to him; a sneer she didn't quite manage to conceal filtered through the word.

She wasn't sure how her divination went either, because she'd never tried it, but she wasn't going to tell him that. What she was going to tell him was what she was sure of: that Divination was the subject for the ones who couldn't do any of the real magic.

"My mum says that's not real magic." Her gaze, unwavering, challenged him to say something horrible about her mother so that she could stomp on his toes again. "She says it's all a load of rubbish. And if you're good at something rubbish, then it doesn't really count, does it?"

* Avery Elliot

    (05/18/2019 at 18:38)
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Avery hummed nothingness back, eyes trained on his cauldron as he wiped his wand off on its edge. He had heard this tone in the rattle of classmates that threw his crystals out windows, in the push of children desperate to prove themselves, in the pitched mockery of those who turned away in school though they had come to his garden the night before asking for a reading.

The derision washed over him, a flare in his chest the only response he ever allowed. Here, where magic was real, his own was still nothing. Avery had realized all too quickly in the short trip on the train and the snorting laughter of his housemates. Muggle magic was not good enough for anyone here.

(Not even Muggles, half the time. Though it was becoming more commonplace.)

"My mum says magic cannot be measured," Avery finally said, " -- so, sorry it doesn't count for you." He snuffed out the fire underneath his cauldron, letting everything cool before he spoke again, "So are you good at Potions in general? Or just the crushing parts."
« Last Edit: 05/18/2019 at 18:38 by Avery Elliot »
You carry the heavens in your eyes
(Like one of those old Greek tragedies)
and I'd call you Atlas but
he wasn't given a choice to hold the stars
(You were.)

* Vega Nettlebed

    (05/19/2019 at 16:06)
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She thought his mum sounded stupid. She thought his mum had probably just told him that to make both him and herself feel better, because she'd realised she had an idiot for a son. She thought that it didn't matter what his mum said, anyway, because who was she to Vega?

She almost said all of these things to him, but she was conscious of the fact that he had an entire vat of a boiling half-brewed potion right there in front of him, and though he didn't seem like the volatile sort, people could get pretty defensive about their families.

"I'm good at all of it," Vega declared instead, with a toss of blonde hair over her shoulder. "You'll see."

He did.

tuesday 6 september 2011
waxing gibbous


She had ended up next to him again, through no fault of her own.

"I think this deck is rigged."

Her first ever Divination lesson was not going well. She had not read the suggested reading on the Major and Minor Arcana the night before. She had not paid much attention to the first ten minutes of the lesson, either, during which the professor had attempted to explain it to people like her. She still wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to be doing or what any of it meant.

Vega slammed the three cards she had drawn down onto the table for him to see. "Eight of Swords, Five of Swords, Two of Swords. I thought there were supposed to be four suits, how come I've ended up with all the same?"
« Last Edit: 05/19/2019 at 16:06 by Vega Nettlebed »

* Avery Elliot

    (06/23/2019 at 03:05)
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(hint: she was good at all of it.)



It wasn’t the deck that was rigged, it was Fate itself. The weave had tangled them too close together and now Avery sat next to Toe-Stomper in the one class he thought he would enjoy (read: not) and there was no escape of her or of her Swords. Avery had his forehead on the deck, whether it was despair or boredom had yet to be decided, shuffling his own deck in his lap as though he needed any type of review of the subject.

Judgement, The Moon, the Two of Swords, the Six of Cups, flashed one after another though Avery didn’t see any of them in the noise of her. He felt her palms smack the cards down beside his head, slowly rolling his head to one side so he could squint at them. Avery moved his gaze from the swords to her sharp face and pointed tone, shrugging lightly. “Must be drawn to your energy. Try listening to how they’re answering your question.”

An eyebrow arched he asked, “Do you know what they represent?”
You carry the heavens in your eyes
(Like one of those old Greek tragedies)
and I'd call you Atlas but
he wasn't given a choice to hold the stars
(You were.)

* Vega Nettlebed

    (06/29/2019 at 18:46)
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Question? What question? Nobody had told her she needed to have a question -- or perhaps they had, and she had been too busy thinking how stupid this all was to really take it in. Either way, whether she'd been told to have a question or not, she didn't have one.

Vega Violet Nettlebed was not going to tell Avery Lying Lumpy Potion Elliot this.

Instead, she scowled at him, like it was his fault she was missing a question and -- she shot the cards another scornful look -- her answer.

Did she know what they represented?

"Yes."

Of course not.

Hoping she might provoke him into telling her, she pushed them further towards him, "I bet you don't, though."

* Avery Elliot

    (07/22/2019 at 03:29)
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Avery smiled, a sliver of a thing that didn't mean much in the way of kindness. Instinct tensed his shoulders while the prideful part of his chest replied recklessly, " -- well you can teach me then." He added quickly afterwards (a hint? mocking?), "The suit of swords is about the mind, though, that much I'm sure."
You carry the heavens in your eyes
(Like one of those old Greek tragedies)
and I'd call you Atlas but
he wasn't given a choice to hold the stars
(You were.)

* Vega Nettlebed

    (08/19/2019 at 21:21)
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Well, she'd gone and dug herself into a hole--no, he had dropkicked her into a hole now. She couldn't very well admit to him that she didn't even have the vaguest of ideas about what any of these three cards represented, let alone what they all meant when drawn together.

"Forget the swords," she said, having taken a moment to search for an escape and come to the conclusion that a subtle retreat was her best option.

"What was your question?"