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 came out swinging, momo <3

Isaac Jackson


don't threaten me with a good time


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Jan 9 2018, 08:53 PM   LINK Quote
This was, so far, grueling. See, Isaac wasn't an idiot- he managed to trick out his broom with custom enchantments and runes all by himself, he figured out rudimentary vet care when he found the ugliest cat in existence which was currently curled up on his lap, but for the life of him, this potions essay was going to kill him. He couldn't remember all the uses of this herb and that ingredient, and he had to explain how to make this potion (which was easy because the information was in the textbook) it's uses, and then it's applications to everyday life and possible uses in upcoming medical and magical advancements.

That alone was enough to melt his brain. He was sure he could feel it, liquid, running out from his ears and down his jaw. Thankfully, Martin was here. His scrunch-faced, one-eyed, three-legged obese tomcat who was the sole reason for the few barn cats at his home being knocked up constantly, and who was also the object of his undying love. The black tomcat was currently purring and kneading Isaac's jean-clad thighs with his claws, yellow eyes shut, tail curled around part of his massive form. "Martin why do potions suck," Isaac inquired rhetorically.

When the cat did not reply, as cats cannot speak, he went on, "... and why can't I just race for a living, and why do I need to make this potion tomorrow," Isaac sighed. Before him, on the table stretched under the squat, high windows that just poked above the grass outside, he had a slew of messy papers and hap-hazard notes full of off-topic doodles, his potions book laid out overtop of them, slightly stained. He also had some coffee with lots of cream and sugar that was slowly working a ringed stain into the papers, and on top of it all, parchment on which he was writing his essay.

Martin mrrowed. Isaac hummed his agreement, because everything Martin said was inherently true. Martin was probably a God. Distantly, Isaac daydreamed about his broom. Distantly, he also hoped someone would come to save him from the monotony of this dreaded essay and bully him into going outside to fly at illegal break-neck speeds over the lake or the woods. Mostly, he hoped someone would notice him.

@Chikara Momomiya

--------------------

Chikara Momomiya


we've done something wonderful


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Jan 11 2018, 05:30 PM   LINK Quote
Momo was drifting.

He always seemed to be drifting these days, somewhat: trailing, as if hindered by water, through the hallways, his eyes fixed on something that felt like it was just behind another wall. Lately, he couldn't feel himself; it was like someone else had decided to pilot his body to chase after his real self, which was somewhere out of reach. Like someone else had pried his mind open and kicked him out, and then realized they didn't want that, but it was too late to simply drag him back. He was lying in bed, trying to feel the mattress against his back. It was, and yet not there. He drifted and drifted, and occasionally jerked back into something like waking before sinking away again. At least the currents of his thoughts had smoothed themselves away somewhat.

He sat up. He wasn't sure if it was a conscious decision to do so, but his legs swung themselves over the side of his bed, and his fingers gripped the edge of the mattress, slipping slightly over his sheets. He sat up like he was still dreaming and didn't stumble into waking until he passed the doorway and saw the common room, full of light as always.

Momo blinked in confusion. He stared at his fingers, but then his eyes snagged on the white hem of his tshirt, the edges of his vision dragging over the rough denim of his jeans. The sunlight, wherever it came from, felt more unreal than usual: like he had walked into summertime when he expected the cold, and over at one of the study tables, he saw someone he hadn't run into for some time. He watched Isaac talk to... his cat...? for a short while. The cat bubbled an answer. Momo hid a smile behind his hand, reflexive, and caught the cat's attention. At that point, he had to go say hello, so he did: he walked over to Isaac, brushing his hand lightly over the other boy's shoulder as he moved around the chair to face him. Once upon a time, he thought he might have done something more.

"It's been a while," Momo said quietly. His gaze slanted over to the mostly untouched (but still messy) pile of work on the table, and then back towards the boy. He wondered if Isaac was well. They should have still been sleeping in the same room together, but they weren't, and he never got around to asking why. Instead, he let himself have a moment to examine Isaac, the same way he always did. The same bright hair and brighter look greeted him, and both felt more real than the dreamy sunlight that shone across the two of them. A small smile lilted past his mouth. "I've missed you," he added, "how are you?"

@Isaac Jackson

Isaac Jackson


don't threaten me with a good time


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Jan 11 2018, 05:54 PM   LINK Quote
Isaac belatedly realized that his want for company was equally rivalled by his desperate hope that he could slip quietly into redoing his sixth year without anyone noticing. But the humiliation was his alone to own, and he would try his hardest not to let it touch him, to let it dig it's slippery fingers into the folds of his brain and swamp him as it was wont to do. However, the gentle stroke across his shoulder caught his attention in the kind of way that he recognized, distantly. Nate had made gentle touches hard to remember.

His hazel eyes dragged from the cat, up, up, and up, to the face of someone he was placated to see. Momo had never been the type to judge him, not with their past. His gaze dipped from the far-away look in Momo's eyes to his lips as he spoke, and then back. "Look at you, still a whole foot taller than me and handsome as all hell," Isaac drawled, tutting with his tongue and shaking his head in a mock-forlorn way. The gesture ended with a smile that perked the corners of his mouth- for even if it was forced, it was made warm for Momo.

One thing Isaac had always appreciated from his very tall friend was the sentiment. Yes, they had rolled in the sheets at some point, and they hadn't pursued much else, but there was a sweet kind of affection that neither of them had questioned or changed. A slight amount of grace and sweetness that they allowed themselves, these two sad boys.

"I'm stellar," Isaac replied on an inhale, "I, unfortunately, have to re-do my sixth year because I dropped any and all responsibility for a wonderful, fleeting moment and now I am paying the very expensive price for it!" He dragged out the 'I', full of hesitance, and continued on the explanation in his usual chirpy tone, the words coming quick. It was an admission shaped and wrapped like a joke, but this joke had no punchline, only him lookin up at Momo and smiling like it was funny. Because if it wasn't funny, it was sad, it was enough to crack through his ribs and reveal the soft parts of him.

He wouldn't let that happen now.

"How is my tall, hot, hot glass of leaf water doing?" Isaac asked, reclining casually and lifting Martin (whom complained loudly) off of himself and onto the floor next to the armchair. The cat hissed, because how dare Isaac remove him from his throne, before stalking (er, waddling) off to find a comfier place to rest. Isaac's gaze flickered to the cat for a moment, a brow cocking, before he looked back up to Momo and gestured to the seat across from him, an invitation. He made to tuck his quill behind his ear, only to realize he had a cigarette resting there, and so he placed the quill down on the table instead and cracked a tired grin.

@Chikara Momomiya

--------------------

Chikara Momomiya


we've done something wonderful


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Jan 19 2018, 10:20 PM   LINK Quote
There was something wholeheartedly alive about Isaac that made Momo tuck another smile back between his lips with shy fingers, even as he leaned forward. Hot, h-o-t (with an emphasis) glass of leaf water? "I'm okay," he said, neither an admission nor a confession. It was one of those phrases he'd picked up to float across the air whenever he didn't know how to answer a question. Truthfully, Momo himself didn't know how he was. Surviving? The wind seemed to propel him from one day into the next in irregular beats of movement and stillness. He watched Isaac pick his cat up. Martin hissed fluffily and slunk off past them; Momo reached his hand down and gave the cat a gentle stroke on the head. And then they were more or less alone again, so that Momo had all the attention of Isaac, the smiles he kept pushing onto his face, and the tiredness humming under his skin.

"I thought about you..." Momo said after a moment, but it wasn't the kind of feeling that could be summed up in four words. He didn't know how many words it would take to tell Isaac about how much he'd wondered, uncertainly and distantly, but it was more than he had in him right now. His eyebrows knit briefly as he stood up and picked the cigarette out of Isaac's hair before taking his seat again. Just in case it lit Isaac's head on fire.

"I didn't know about that..." Another vague phrase. Momo thought words were like washi paper, kind of, where you had to look through the other side to see the meaning, and if everything was clear enough, the conversation would turn out fine. But the more layers of paper someone piled together, the less he could figure out what was really being said. He was doing that now, layering and layering, and he played with the cigarette a little. What he remembered most about the last months of his sixth year was Isaac, and the sharp taste of him that smoked, but not unpleasantly, into the back of Momo's throat. What he remembered most was the way sunlight used to fall across them in straight golden slabs, even though the windows were barely above ground.

There was still sunlight in the room now, but it felt solid, like a Midas curse, left Momo cool and impassive to his surroundings. Instead of drifting, he felt pinned down into his chair, futile.

He looked up, met Isaac's eyes briefly, and then glanced down at the quill which had fallen into the little pile of chaos on the table. In the moment, it was something symbolic that almost started to frighten him. His heart pounded dryly against his throat until a question finally tore through his teeth.

"Are you really okay?"

@Isaac Jackson

Isaac Jackson


don't threaten me with a good time


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Jan 20 2018, 03:25 PM   LINK Quote
Isaac watched Momo; a creature he had grown to understand even when it was fleeting and shy, as he so frequently was. He had learned that softness and warmth drew this quiet boy from whatever place his mind had been drifting to, and with the deftness only practice could bring, Isaac executed such warmth. It was second-hand, a non-thought, an action that rolled off of his sleeves and his shoulders and his lips when he spoke to this boy; only this one.

Only this one.

Isaac felt Momo's fingers drag through his hair slightly and felt like that might be heaven- he was awfully tired, and that was so, so nice. That and Momo's voice and the reassurance he gave Isaac. See, if anyone else had said, 'I thought about you,' Isaac would wonder why. For what reason would people think about him, if not to comment on his behavior (good or bad), or discuss his shortcomings, or speculate about him. All of the possibilities were symbolic of the fear he had that someone, today, would notice him here; even though he craved the company. Momo might be the only one who could dismiss such fear with gentle fingers like those that had plucked the cigarette from behind his ear. Isaac took it back, now, and set it on the table seeing as it wasn't lit anymore, just partially burnt end.

Momo's question both did and didn't surprise him. There were unsaid things strung between them like cobweb turned to golden string in the sunlight, so easy to break and yet neither of them seemed to have the strength to. Isaac blinked, considering his answers. Finally, a weak smile tugged at his lips as he leaned back in his chair and replied, "I could ask you the same question, Moo."

But, he would never blow off anything Momo asked him. Isaac ran a hand through his hair instinctively and inhaled until he felt like the pressure was too much, then he let it all out in an urgent huff. "I'm about as okay as you'd expect, which is to say that I'm totally aces other than repeating this year and then having to do seventh totally alone becaaaause you won't be around and also my mom isn't super jazzed that this is happening which is fantastic." He let it all out in a breath, words getting faster and brighter, until he was sitting still with his hands on his thighs, taking deep breaths in a way that was almost too practiced.

Finally, he looked up at Momo. "What about you, Moo? You look like you're in a midlife crisis."

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