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 my lows are low and i don't know which way to go~, kitkat // aromate
Lyx121馃巿muggleborn5'
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Sep 19 2017, 09:59 PM   Link Quote
sometimes firsties say bad words


Detention was nothing new for the second youngest Miller child, and God on high, was she grateful for the fact that her professors hadn’t seen fit to have a home visit about her the way that they had Walter. Her brother seemed like a ghost of himself a lot more these days, and so did his girlfriend for that matter, but what else was she supposed to do? Nobody told her anything, and it felt sometimes that they all forgot that she was twelve, not two.

Be a kid, they all insisted.

Well, when she acted like a kid, she got detention.

Sure, maybe she shouldn’t have pushed an older Slytherin down half a flight of stairs for picking on another first year, a meek Ravenclaw who -until the older student had started to tease her- had been ecstatic to talk to Nell about new muggle shows she had been watching that summer, but it was important. More to the point, he was being a… well… Nell certainly would have her mouth washed out with soap if she were to say those words aloud.

She had.

In fact, she’d shouted, quite clearly, ‘Leave her alone, assface’ before shoving the older boy with all the might in her tiny little body. His ankle rolled in a particularly nasty way, and almost immediately, as if someone had summoned an adult after the really bad stuff had been happening, Nell’s elbow was in a vice grip and she was marched right off to detention. For spewing vulgarities unbecoming of a young lady and for pushing the jerk Slytherin down the stairs.

So, she sat in detention, on a day when she well and deserved to be outside, resolving to not listen to her brother OR Eve when she was told to be a kid. Sat in her regular spot, she stared at the black pens before her, trying to decide just what it was that she wanted to do that day. She was finding that she erased things more than she managed to keep on the paper, so the badger pup had opted to start drawing things in pen instead of pencil. A sound in the doorway drew her away from her internal dilemma, the blonde girl looking up to see a dark haired boy stood there. He seemed mildly panicked at the mere idea of crossing the threshold, but she didn't say a thing, even as he stood there longer. Glancing down at her watch, she watched the numbers tick from 2-5-9 to 3-0-0 and as she looked up again, the aforementioned boy was hurrying into the room.

Without thinking, the firstie moved her backpack to the floor off to the left side of her feet, clearing off the chair beside her. "You can sit here if you wanna," Nellie offered with a polite smile. "Some of the bigger kids are possessive about the spots they claim when they're stuck in here at the same time as us littles. I'm Nell, by the way. Actually, it's Ivy Cornelia, but everyone calls me Nell, or Nellie." She extended her hand at the last second, remembering a sharp nudge between her shoulder blades and her father scolding her for not shaking hands when she introduced herself to others.

@Christophe Devereaux

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Oct 3 2017, 04:12 PM   Link Quote
1, 2, 3, skip the fourth. 1, 2, 3, skip the fourth.

It was a mantra that repeated inside Kit's head as he made his way down the stairs. His spine tingled at every step he took, a warning whenever the fourth step got closer. Watch out! Don't step there! You'll break your ankle and fall to your death! Don't do it!

Logically, Kit knew his ankle wouldn't spontaneously break if he touched the fourth step. But what if rolled it? Or he changed his mind halfway through and tried to skip it? But then he was already moving forward and so he toppled over head-first down a stone stairwell? Or what if the stairs changed and he was stuck on the wrong floor? He would get hopelessly lost and turned around like last year.

Kit knew nothing would happen. Really, he did. But he'd rather not risk dying young, so, 1, 2, 3, skip the fourth. 1, 2, 3, skip the fourth, all the way down. Jump the last group if they don't fit. They never fit, so jump the last group.

It wasn't fair. Kit didn't deserve detention. It was just鈥攈e had already been late, but he was still early. His class hadn't started until four o'clock, but four was a bad number, so of course Kit had to wait until it was a good number. So he waited. Right outside the classroom where the Professor caught him loitering and tried to drag him in by his ear. The Gryffindor boy held strong though, and didn't budge until his pocket watch read 4:23 (which worked out fine, because four plus two is six, which is two three's, and four plus two plus three is nine, which is three three's, and that's the best number).

But, that made him almost 30 minutes late, which did little to impress his Professor. Which was why he stood outside the detention classroom on a day he would rather be outside pressing flowers into his notebook.

He didn't need to look at his pocket watch to know he was early. He'd been counting.

The young Devereaux boy stepped over the threshold as soon as it was three o'clock. Before he had time to fret over the fact that his usual preferred seat was taken (the third desk from the left in the third row from the front), a young Hufflepuff girl offered the seat next to her.

Kit bit his lip. It was a kind gesture, and, well, it coincidentally happened to be the third seat from the right in the third row from the back, so...

His heart-rate dropped from it's usual panicked pace, so it was good enough.

Kit sat down and, quick as a snitch, the girl was introducing herself. She stuck out her hand, almost as an after-thought.

Ivy Cornelia he thought. Nellie. I like Nellie more.

He took her soft hand in his and lifted it to his lips. He place a single soft kiss to the top of it.

Bonne journ茅e,鈥 he said, his native French accent coming back to him with little effort. 鈥淚t's nice to mee you, Nellie. My name is Christophe Emile, but everyone just called me Kit.鈥

It wasn't until after he let go of her hand that he realized his compulsions had ended for the time being. She had broken the loop as simple as that.

@Nellie Miller

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Oct 4 2017, 04:53 PM   Link Quote
Nell had been around purebloods enough to guess, from the way that he kissed her hand primarily, that Christophe -Kit, he’d said- was more than likely a pureblood. A plethora of thoughts went through her mind in that moment, but the one that the little witch’s mind latched onto was the way that the light drifting through the higher windows of the detention room caught in the shadows of his curls. “Kit is a nice name,” she managed to mumble out, a small, shy smile finding its way to her lips. Did boys usually kiss your hand when you were introducing yourself? “It’s nice to meet you.”

The feeling of how he’d held her hand lingered for a moment, the blonde reaching out and grabbing a finer pen from the set of black markers that she’d laid out before her. Seven to one side, six to the other, the last one in her hand. Fourteen was a good number, different thicknesses, but all black. Try to draw just in pen for a while, she’d been told when she expressed her unhappiness and worries that she wasn’t accomplishing anything. If you keep erasing things, don’t enable yourself to erase things by using a pencil.

“What are you in for?” she asked as he started to get settled beside her. Her newest sketchbook was on the desk in front of her, the sketch on the page she opened to one of her sunflower studies, the flower big and blooming and straining toward the sun. Of course, she hadn’t drawn the light source so much as she indicated where the light was coming from and was going to line over the blue lines and sloppy shading of her non-photo pencil with the ink pens. At least that would occupy her while she was stuck in detention.

Was she about to tell him that she got detention for pushing someone down the stairs? It had technically been well and deserved. Would it scare him off? Nell didn’t have very many friends her age, mostly just because she felt a little bit more comfortable around the older kids... Wait, was she already thinking about him as a friend? Was that weird, considering that they’d only just met in detention?

Realizing that the pen that she was using didn’t have the thickness she wanted, she set it down, grabbing a brush tip that would work better for the line quality she had in mind. It was all a learning experience, as she still had a lot to learn. “Minute details later, big details now,”Nellie muttered to herself, bouncing her left knee under the table as she contemplated just where to start her inking.

@Christophe Devereaux

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Oct 24 2017, 03:02 PM   Link Quote
"I like your names, too," he told her. "All three of them. Um..."

Was that weird? That was weird. Oops.

"It's nice to meet you, too," he repeated. He was already making a classic Kit Devereaux first impression.

He made his way to the seat beside her on her left and tried to ignore the placement of her fourteen pens. It had a four in it.

But four plus one is five, so...that wasn't too bad. It still wasn't a three, but it would do.

Kit pulled his own stuff out of his pack. Three roles of parchment, three inkwells, and one quill (and two backup quills, of course. In case the first one didn't feel right.). He wasn't too much of a stranger to detention, be he never got used to being there. Never would, he imagined.

The lion boy looked over at the blonde when she questioned him, and his eyes flicked down to the sketch book. He caught a glimpse of the shape of a sunflower before he looked away. Don't be rude, he scolded himself.

"Uh, I was...late. To class." He winced at the memory. "Again." He cleared his throat. "What about you?"

Nellie muttered something to herself and Kit focused on his parchment. Was she bothered that he asked? She asked him first! It was only fair, right?

Relax, he told himself as he pulled out his Charms book. Maybe she talks to herself, like I do.

@Nellie Miller

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Lyx121馃巿muggleborn5'
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Dec 1 2017, 05:18 PM   Link Quote
Nellie couldn鈥檛 help the small smile that found her lips. All three of them, he鈥檇 pointed out when he mentioned that he liked her names. Did he like the number three as well, she wondered. It was her favorite number. Good, solid, balanced. Kit seemed a bit nervous, like he was stumbling over himself, but it wasn鈥檛 her place to comment on that. She was prone to being an anxious little thing herself, only stepping out of her bubble when it came time to help someone else with their anxiety, and she didn鈥檛 like it at all when people drew attention to it. So, she was going to give him the same courtesy that she hoped for.

As he pulled out his things, she quietly noted the presence of threes. Three rolls of parchment, three inkwells, and three quills if you counted the one in his hand. She wondered if it was a little like Nell鈥檚 fourteen pens; two of the fine felt tips were the same, it was just that sometimes, one pen didn鈥檛 feel right when the other did, and she wouldn鈥檛 know until she was holding them which one she was going to use, making them a set of thirteen plus one. As they had just met, she wasn鈥檛 sure just yet what she could and couldn鈥檛 comment on, so she remained quiet, just turning her attention back to the sketch. That was, until he responded to her question about why, exactly, he was trapped inside on such a nice day.

His response made her laugh, just so. 鈥淚鈥檓 not laughing at you, I promise, it鈥檚 just鈥.鈥 The blonde trailed off, tucking her hair behind her ear. 鈥淏eing in detention for being late to class makes why I鈥檓 here seem way worse.鈥 She tapped the butt end of the pen in her hand against her sketchpad, pausing before she elaborated. 鈥淚鈥檒ll preface by saying that I really don鈥檛 like bullies. I broke a Slytherin鈥檚 ankle. By accident!鈥 A small sigh. She was already feeling a little bit reactive, because she knew that trying to talk to Wally about this was going to be a nightmare, no matter how justified her actions were at the time. 鈥淗e was bullying a Ravenclaw girl in my year for talking about muggle television with me. She had been super excited at first, and it was like watching someone blow out a candle鈥 So, I stepped between them and鈥 I don鈥檛 know, I just pushed. Hard. The stairs were incidental. But, of course, I caused bodily harm to another student, so nevermind my attempts to tell the professor what had really happened.鈥

Her attention half-returned to the sunflower study, the girl returning to her plan. Big details first, little ones after. 鈥淵ou can look, by the way. I don鈥檛 mind. Usually I鈥檝e got one of my bigger friends over my shoulder, giving me advice on how to improve, or develop my own style, so I don鈥檛 really shoo people away from watching me work anymore.鈥 Nell glanced up at him with a warm smile. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 think it鈥檚 rude, that鈥檚 all. And I鈥檓 sorry in advance if my talking to myself bothers you. Feel free to ask me to be quiet at any time, I don鈥檛 find that rude either. I鈥檓 good at keeping my sounds internalized if someone is bothered.鈥

@Christophe Devereaux

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he thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts
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Jan 6 2018, 04:58 PM   Link Quote
Kit felt his mouth gape open as Nellie explained how she wound up in detention. He laughed before he could stop himself.

"Well, you're right about that seeming way worse. But if there was ever a good reason to get detention, I suppose coming to someone's defense would be it." Of course, Kit failed to mention in his own tale that he ran circles around a professor who tried to drag him into class by his ears, but oh well. Details, right?

He could understand it, though. He had felt his own candle get snuffed before. It didn't take Kit very long to learn not to talk about Dungeons and Dragons with Sacha. If he wanted to "geek out", as it were, he'd have to go to Tamsin for it. His big sister, who would even play with him and his friends sometimes. The thought of Sacha ever doing that...it was more likely for rain to fall upwards.

Kit bit his lip in thought before asking, "What muggle show was she talking about? I'll admit that I don't know very many..."

"It doesn't bother me!" He was quick to say. He felt his neck grow warm with embarrassment, but he managed to ignore it for now. "I tend to mumble to myself as well." How else am I supposed to get intelligent conversation around here? Harper's voice added in his head. A joke, of course, though perhaps not one that his new friend, Nellie Miller, would appreciate.

"My mumbling can get rather annoying, though," Kit admitted with a blush. He looked down at the Hufflepuff's drawing. "I'm not...as good at internalizing my sounds, but I'll try." He met her eyes again. "Just let me know if it bothers you."

@Nellie Miller

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Jan 15 2018, 03:23 AM   Link Quote
He had a nice laugh, the way his face scrunched up and his shoulders shook as he did so just naturally joyous and pure. It was light. Not light like soft but light like lifting, like the same light drifting in through the window and highlighting the different shades of brown in his curls. It was good. Something in Nell hoped that she could make him laugh more, though she wasn鈥檛 sure why. Surely this was just another childish crush that wouldn鈥檛 mean anything...

鈥淭here are worse things, though I don鈥檛 think that the bigger kids in my life will see my coming to someone鈥檚 rescue and getting detention as a good reason for detention.鈥 Nell was sure that if her brother had his way, she would never be in trouble. Martha, too, while she was thinking about it. That wasn鈥檛 fun to think about, mostly because what was life without a little risk taking now and then?

鈥淭he Walking Dead,鈥 she answered without missing a beat. His hesitance made her question, just for a moment again, whether his blood status was really pure or not, a small hum leaving her as she pondered. There were halfbloods primarily raised wixen who didn鈥檛 know things like pop culture. Most of the time, it was amazing that she even did, given how closed-minded and strict her father was. 鈥淚t鈥檚 about zombies. Not like wixen zombies. These are a little more like inferi?鈥 That was the closest way that the girl could think to describe the hoards of reanimated dead, swarming the living to feast. The thought made her shudder lightly. 鈥淚 like the comics better than what I鈥檝e seen of the show, but she likes the show better, so we were talking about the differences.鈥

The quickness of his words made her look up from her inking again, the smile finding her lips a little more bold than it was initially. Kit was blushing. She was sure that she was as well, though if she wasn鈥檛 careful and tried to rub the heat out of her face the way that she normally did when embarrassed, she was sure to take her pen across her face and leave dark marks on her freckled skin. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 mind. It鈥檚 nice to hear someone make conversation, even if it鈥檚 just with themselves鈥︹ the younger of the pair trailed off a little, shrugging lightly. 鈥溾楽ides, it鈥檚 nice not to feel so alone when you鈥檝e got certain habits that people might find annoying.鈥 Unable to help herself, the second youngest Miller child added, 鈥淎nd if anyone picks on you for it, at least you know I鈥檓 willing to break an ankle to defend your right to be a weirdo too. Not my ankle. That would just be inconvenient.鈥

@Christophe Devereaux

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he thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts
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Feb 5 2018, 11:48 AM   Link Quote
At the mention of bigger kids, Kit thought about his own older siblings and how they would react at his most recent trip to detention. Tamsin would be concerned, there was no doubt about that. His big sister would know right off the bat why he got in trouble. Sacha, on the other hand...

Hm. Well, Kit wasn't sure how Sacha would react. Annoyed? That seemed to be his default reaction to Kit and his antics nowadays.

The Walking dead, hm? Kit thought, and scrunched his nose. Some of the half-bloods and muggle-borns in Gryffindor were obsessed with that series. Kit had seen some of the pages from the comic books, and the zombies looked really gross.

"I've...heard of it," he admitted. "But I don't think I like zombies very much." He shivered. "I'm not into the scary stuff, I guess."

The way she smiled at him made his shivers disappear. He couldn't help but smile back on reflex. She had dimples. Little ones.

At her ankle-breaking promises, he threw his head back and laughed. The image of the tiny Hufflepuff circling around him pushing people down stairs was a comical one.

"But then you'd be here, and I'd be out there, and what good would that do us?" he asked with a smile.

He liked her. She had jokes. And she could totally hold her own against Harper.

@Nellie Miller

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Feb 8 2018, 11:42 PM   Link Quote
Nellie shrugged, the felt tip of her pen moving the way a brush might along her page. 鈥淪cary isn鈥檛 for everyone, not even for me.鈥 It wasn鈥檛 that she didn鈥檛 like scary things, it was more that she liked specific scary things. She remembered that she had been over at a friend of her mother鈥檚 and the oldest boy had been watching something scary on the television, about a clown taking children. Her most vivid memory was of sheets strung on a line, the monster clown behind them as the breeze shifted. Needless to say, she still couldn鈥檛 help her mother hang the washing out to dry without an ensuing panic attack. 鈥淵ou should ask some of the American transfers about zombies,鈥 she told him seriously, shaking the thought away.

There was that laugh again, full-body and bright, like lights exploding behind her eyes.

鈥淵ou鈥檇 have to break me out, duh,鈥 she replied, shaking her head. The action shook loose a large chuck of her blonde hair, which she reached up and pushed out of her face again. 鈥淪ince I鈥檇 hypothetically be getting detention for defending you.鈥 It seemed like a fair enough exchange.

鈥淎ctually, I鈥檇 just take the detention. It wouldn鈥檛 be so bad. An鈥 maybe that way the professors will actually start to step in and step up for us instead of just letting the older kids pick on us so much.鈥 People liked to say it didn鈥檛 happen, or that it built character, but just like parents were often a child鈥檚 first bully, sometimes teachers were just as bad about bullying as peers. If she kept getting into trouble, then that was how it had to be, but she was going to keep sticking up for people.

鈥淵ou seem really into this,鈥 she pointed out, looking up from her drawing. 鈥淒o you draw? Or do any kind of art, I guess?鈥

@Christophe Devereaux

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Mar 8 2018, 06:12 PM   Link Quote
Asking one of the Americans about zombies seemed about as good an idea as asking Sacha if he could paint Raisin's claws. Kit had to admit it that it had peaked his curiosity, regardless of how many nightmares it would give him.

He laughed even harder at the image of him--the most unadventurous Gryffindor he knew--attempting to break his friend out of detention.

Friend? Was she his friend? Well, Kit wasn't one to break just anybody out of hypothetical-detention. Not matter how pretty and blonde they were. Granted, Kit would let Harper rot in detention for days, and he was Kit's very best friend. But usually if Harper got detention, he did something to deserve it.

He looked back over at Nellie. Maybe they weren't friends yet, but he was hopeful that they would be soon.

Kit wasn't sure what to say about Nellie's comment on teachers, so he opted to say nothing. In the Gryffindor's experience, grown-ups were there to make sure you didn't starve or step out of line. Rarely were they there for you to trust or turn to for help outside the classroom.

So Kit made a noncommittal noise and looked back down at the blonde's drawing. His cheeks turned pink when she noticed his staring.

"Oh, erm, no," he said. "I don't draw. I...write, sort of? And I can carve wood a little bit, I guess." He shrugged. "I don't know if you could count that as art, but there you have it."

@Nellie Miller

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May 14 2018, 08:12 AM   Link Quote
His laugh was infectious, and though Nellie didn鈥檛 laugh in return, she couldn鈥檛 help the happy little smile that came to her lips. If they kept it up, she would have to worry about her face hurting for hours afterward. And honestly? That really wasn鈥檛 a terrible thing at all.

How long had it been since Nellie laughed? Since she smiled so freely?

She was surrounded by so many people who were suffering, suffering in ways that she couldn鈥檛 help them, that to sit back and just be able to laugh, to smile with someone was鈥 nice didn鈥檛 encompass how she felt, but it was the only way that she could think to articulate it.

鈥淚 think that everyone is an artist,鈥 she told him, reaching up to brush a long strand of blonde hair from her face. 鈥淎nd that we just have to find what that means for individuals. Writing is an art form, totally, and woodcarving too. And they鈥檙e both things that you have to work at to improve, find a style that鈥檚 all your own. Practice enables growth.鈥

That was what she had been telling herself more lately, after a few lessons about figure drawing with Hensley. Her lines were a mess, too cartoonish when faced with things like photorealism. But she was learning, and even her failures were valuable lessons. Her failures were the most valuable lessons she had at this point, especially as she planned on moving forward with her art. She imagined that writers did much of the same thing, writing things that were short and poor, characters that were basically themselves inhabiting every work of fiction. But some of those writers went on to be amazing, and published or no, they still had that skill. No woodcarver made a totem pole on their first try, and while people liked to spout that practice makes perfect nonsense, the more she worked, the more she realized that the aphorism simply just wasn鈥檛 true.

鈥淵ou鈥檙e an artist. We just need to figure out what art looks like for you.鈥

@Christophe Devereaux

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