Post by Cyan on Apr 23, 2011 11:37:54 GMT -5
A voice came from behind, but Cyan, too distracted to think straight, promptly ignored it--at least, until the blood-covered brat snatched his sleeve and gave him this ridiculously pitiful expression.
Cyan felt sick. Didn't he have the privilege of leaving?
Then, Zeph was... helpful?
Well, uh, right up until Cyan felt a hand on his chin.
And stared straight into the gay lad's eyes, suddenly finding himself taking a trip down pupil lane.
Oh, not aga--
A desert greeted Cyan's senses. It was hot, seemingly lifeless on the surface except for a few cacti. Cyan knew better. He could feel the life waiting right below the surface, and the sand at his feet was too soft; was it silt? One could still see where a flood last ran through the place and marked up the the great desert rocks. He didn't know the name for them. It was dry. Hot. Nearly barren in its cacti, rocks, sand, and mirages... Not lifeless and dry and dead, though--more like sleeping. And the hot was more like bold and daring instead of treacherous and deadly. Very gryffindor-like, if one took the description of that house seriously.
What a funny guy. This scene was so intense and intimidating on top, but life would sprout like nonsense at the slightest rain--this, Cyan knew, even if there was no rain now.
He looked toward one rock lying naked under the blaring sun. It formed a cave and an oasis of darkness--it was, perhaps, the only shelter the slytherin could see. A fissure cracked the debacle so deeply it could only be a permanent wound. Yet, the shadows were so cold and the stone so mighty it might never crumble.
He approached this odd landmark. The occasional insects and birds never neared this section of the desert. Oddly enough, they kept their distance. Slowly, he raised one imaginary hand--
Stop. Don't go any further.
And Cyan snapped back into reality with a mouth (not is own, mind) on his face.
Why the hell were boys always kissing him? (Technically, he kissed Finny the first time, but Cyan was doing the best to neglect this fact) What he really wanted was the touch of Professor Pendragon's wide, soft--
Ahem.
And then Zeph was blatantly there. The slytherin gazed at him stupidly, perplexed. It was bad enough he was gay, right? So why did he have to be so flamboyant about it?
Cyan ceremoniously brushed the smooch off his cheek with his free sleeve. Yeah, after Finny--and the mouth-kissing (under the influence of something), molesting (hufflepuff common room), and unwillingly sharing his eating utensils--Cyan figured he was becoming oddly immune to all this freakish man-loving going on.
Was he, like, a magnet for those things or something? He aimed for girls. Cyan wasn't about to consider falling in love with a dude.
Sighing, Cyan glanced hopelessly down at the boy clutching onto his sleeve.
"Why are boys always kissing me?"
Then, thoroughly ignoring the gryffindor (damn gryffindors--except his savior Selene--were always up to no good), he said, "Hey, let me remove that blood from your face."
Okay, creepy little hufflepuff boy (poor lad was so screwed) with blood all over his face was gross. You know what? Blood was gross. Das Ende.
"Close your eyes," he said, kneeling down as he whipped out his wand. "Scourgify."
Hey, even if he'd been abducted by hufflepuffs, at least he could still whip out a good charm.
Cyan felt sick. Didn't he have the privilege of leaving?
Then, Zeph was... helpful?
Well, uh, right up until Cyan felt a hand on his chin.
And stared straight into the gay lad's eyes, suddenly finding himself taking a trip down pupil lane.
Oh, not aga--
A desert greeted Cyan's senses. It was hot, seemingly lifeless on the surface except for a few cacti. Cyan knew better. He could feel the life waiting right below the surface, and the sand at his feet was too soft; was it silt? One could still see where a flood last ran through the place and marked up the the great desert rocks. He didn't know the name for them. It was dry. Hot. Nearly barren in its cacti, rocks, sand, and mirages... Not lifeless and dry and dead, though--more like sleeping. And the hot was more like bold and daring instead of treacherous and deadly. Very gryffindor-like, if one took the description of that house seriously.
What a funny guy. This scene was so intense and intimidating on top, but life would sprout like nonsense at the slightest rain--this, Cyan knew, even if there was no rain now.
He looked toward one rock lying naked under the blaring sun. It formed a cave and an oasis of darkness--it was, perhaps, the only shelter the slytherin could see. A fissure cracked the debacle so deeply it could only be a permanent wound. Yet, the shadows were so cold and the stone so mighty it might never crumble.
He approached this odd landmark. The occasional insects and birds never neared this section of the desert. Oddly enough, they kept their distance. Slowly, he raised one imaginary hand--
Stop. Don't go any further.
And Cyan snapped back into reality with a mouth (not is own, mind) on his face.
Why the hell were boys always kissing him? (Technically, he kissed Finny the first time, but Cyan was doing the best to neglect this fact) What he really wanted was the touch of Professor Pendragon's wide, soft--
Ahem.
And then Zeph was blatantly there. The slytherin gazed at him stupidly, perplexed. It was bad enough he was gay, right? So why did he have to be so flamboyant about it?
Cyan ceremoniously brushed the smooch off his cheek with his free sleeve. Yeah, after Finny--and the mouth-kissing (under the influence of something), molesting (hufflepuff common room), and unwillingly sharing his eating utensils--Cyan figured he was becoming oddly immune to all this freakish man-loving going on.
Was he, like, a magnet for those things or something? He aimed for girls. Cyan wasn't about to consider falling in love with a dude.
Sighing, Cyan glanced hopelessly down at the boy clutching onto his sleeve.
"Why are boys always kissing me?"
Then, thoroughly ignoring the gryffindor (damn gryffindors--except his savior Selene--were always up to no good), he said, "Hey, let me remove that blood from your face."
Okay, creepy little hufflepuff boy (poor lad was so screwed) with blood all over his face was gross. You know what? Blood was gross. Das Ende.
"Close your eyes," he said, kneeling down as he whipped out his wand. "Scourgify."
Hey, even if he'd been abducted by hufflepuffs, at least he could still whip out a good charm.