Post by Gabriel Adams on Oct 23, 2010 9:59:22 GMT -5
Not the whole tower had been destroyed. Clinging to cracked, breaking rafters were a dozen or so birds, the few who had dared to remain behind after the battle below. One, a fierce eagle owl, shook himself and a long feather fell to the ground. In a beat one of the other birds - distinctly out of place - dropped like a stone towards the ground. A tiny screech screamed in alarm.
In a flick of the tail, the hawk righted itself, talons snagging a branch and the feather of the Eagle Owl crushed beneath. The goshawk looked almost irritated. A pale, silver eye fixed on the window below. Couldn't see out it very well. After a moment of thought, it dropped to the ground.
The bird hit the sill of a window, hovered, and shifted. For a moment it looked as if the wizard might fall out the window, but his hands caught at the frame, and Gabriel perched there. Far below was the ground. He still held the eagle feather in one hand, looking at it almost curiously. Then, he leaned slightly forward and dropped it.
Feathers seemed to defy gravity in their own little way.
So funny.
He glanced up at the clouds, wondering. Was something else really up there?
Shrug.
It didn't matter. Gabriel sighed.
What a ... boring day.
Behind him, a bird churred and chawed nervously. The air smelled like blood.
Post by Micha Volkov on Oct 23, 2010 10:36:40 GMT -5
[ooc: Regardless, I'm still posting here.]
There was a boy in the window.
Dark eyes made this assessment, then turned to the birds in the rafters. Idly, she wondered if they were wild and just seeking shelter, or if they belonged to anyone. Their owners must not care much for their health, if they had just been left like that here. Either way, she did not care. She was not here to rescue pets, nor was she here to berate their owners for maltreatment.
Her own companion, the cat Aleksei, had been left to sulk in the Slytherin common room, despite his greatest efforts to tag along. It seemed students in general allowed their familiars to accompany them throughout the school, and most days she might have given in and allowed the feline to come. Today, however, she had not planned on going far. In fact, she had not planned on coming to this part of the building at all, but the ruin had drawn her like a moth to flame, and here she was now, gray dress shifting in the slight breeze, dark hair caught up in twin pigtails and tied with ribbons, the look on her pale face showing nothing of what she was thinking.
In truth, she'd never felt more like a normal girl. Alone with a boy, but for the birds above. How... poetic. She stayed unruffled, entirely unamused, then stepped closer. Perhaps he'd at least be good for some information.
"What happened to the tower?" came her voice, blandly cool. She'd seen it in photos of the school during her research, but upon arriving there had been nothing but a smoking hulk. It gave her hope, at least, that this particular institution might be different than the others she'd attended.
Post by Gabriel Adams on Oct 23, 2010 10:50:33 GMT -5
Gabriel glanced over his shoulder at the girl. Pretty, in a cold sort of way. She seemed uninterested in everything in the room - including why he was sitting on the window. In it. He looked away, back out the window and onto the grounds. A couple of kids seemed to be trying to play Quidditch with three people - it wasn't going very well.
A smirk crossed his face.
"Fire. A storm, maybe." He shrugged. "I'm not sure."
He didn't point out that by looking at the way the tower had been broken, one could tell whatever had blown it up had come from the inside.
One of the very odd things about the whole scene was the fact that nearly a third of the wall was missing. Gabriel had chosen, rather than sit over there and look through the giant missing spot, to sit in the window - which faced the other side of the grounds.
Even as they sat there one of the birds dropped from its perch and floated like a ghost through the gap. That was one thing that fascinated Gabriel about owls. They were so quiet. Goshawks, while quick and expert navigators, weren't near as quiet.
"It smells like smoke," Gabriel said softly, leaning back and tilting his head to look at her. It didn't look like a well-positioned spot at all - as if when he sat up he'd flip forward and out the window.
Post by Micha Volkov on Oct 23, 2010 11:19:26 GMT -5
She inclined her head, gaze flicking away to watch the owl leave. Owls. She'd never been interested in owning one. If she needed to send mail, and it was local enough, she'd just send Aleksei, and if the message needed to travel further, she could hire a bird from someone, to be sure. Less trouble.
She walked closer, so she could see what he was looking at. Idiots, children playing with balls. On broomsticks. A mini Quidditch match, she presumed. They must not know how foolish they appeared. She, for one, was not going to tell them.
"It smells like smoke."
Her delicate nose declined a sniff. She could taste the ash in her mouth, with every breath she took.
"It does."
Her stone-colored eyes drifted back to him. Why was he here? Didn't sitting and doing nothing get boring? She herself could be as patient as needed, especially if she were getting something out of it, but her mind constantly needed to be distracted. She'd have brought a book, at least. Perhaps he was here for the fowl.
"Are one of those owls yours?" she asked, not particularly caring about the matter. Just making conversation, which usually she avoided because most people she met could not help themselves but to blather on and on about topics she did not care about. This male, at least, kept it short. She, in her own particular way, liked that. Well, perhaps not liked, exactly. But tolerated.
Post by Gabriel Adams on Oct 23, 2010 12:29:21 GMT -5
Gabriel stared at the ceiling for a long time. Funny how he couldn't even smell the birds for the cinders. A breeze rattled through the rafters, disturbing the birds and sending ash everywhere. How many birds had died?
He hummed quietly to himself, sitting back upright as she drew closer.
"No, miss." He shook his head several times, as if she might not have heard him. For a moment he considered leaving - after all, where could the conversation go?
Conversations with Gabriel didn't tend to last very long, at least not on a 'conversant' level. Not when one was alone with him.
"Just came for the view." He drew a breath, as if gasping, but it didn't seem to go anywhere. "I have ... a rat. A white rat."
Not that she would care. Gabriel got the feeling they were rather similar. Didn't care ...
"I don't believe any of these .. creatures belong to you, do they."
Wonder wonder ... Gabriel wondered if he could shift before he hit the ground. If he jumped.
Maybe later.
Last Edit: Oct 23, 2010 14:47:16 GMT -5 by Gabriel Adams
Post by Micha Volkov on Oct 23, 2010 15:02:21 GMT -5
The 'miss' he used to address her pleased her, and perhaps for the first time in her short stay there, she allowed a small smile to curl at her lips. She would continue speaking with him.
"Your familiar?" Their companions could never meet, it seemed. Aleksei liked to torture things smaller than he, break their backs and leave them squeaking. A rat would count on that list.
She glanced up, then back to the boy. "No. Will they be alright here?" She did not ask because she worried for them, she asked because she was curious. Their owners must not care much, to leave them in a place like this. She would never do that to the cat Aleksei; he was far too useful.
One might wonder why she was being so talkative (for her, at least). The answer was that Micha Volkov could be social when she wanted, and this was one of those times. She did, after all, enjoy conversing with intelligent human beings. It just seemed that most of Firefox University's students did not quite fall in that category.
"I am Micha Volkov. What is your name, if I may ask?"
Post by Gabriel Adams on Oct 23, 2010 16:02:35 GMT -5
Gabriel's thoughts flicked back to Will. He wasn't really ... a familiar. "Just a pet."
When she spoke of the owls he glanced up once more, frowning. Would owners come back for them? Surely a good number of owls had gone to the rooms of the owners, or hidden elsewhere.
"Yeah, they'll be okay. I've seen a few people up here to check on them. They can hunt and stuff."
A shrug. Owls did know how to hunt right? These weren't like, retarded owls or something.
It didn't matter. Owls didn't matter, their owners didn't, they would all die anyway. Gabriel swung down from the window sill, and as his shoe came down the bone of some small rodent crunched underfoot. He studied her for a moment. Yes, she would be all right.
He had no intentions of killing her. Not here.
Not now.
However, intentions could change.
"It's Gabriel." Micha. A nice name. Foreign. He inclined his head, sort of half bowing but nothing too extravagant. Tifa, who called him Angel, had been amused by such an action.
Post by Micha Volkov on Oct 23, 2010 21:59:59 GMT -5
She watched him think, shrug. "I see."
He came down from his perch, looked at her, seemed to meditate on something. She returned the stare, unblinking. He could look all he want. If he came closer, however, she might have to check his actions. Or she might not. It all depended on what he did. Flirting would not be enough; it never was. Micha trusted no one.
"Gabriel," she repeated, to make sure she pronounced it correctly. With a name like hers, mispronunciation had become far more than a pet peeve. "The archangel." It was more statement than question. She wasn't a religious person, but one didn't have to be to know that much.
She did not like this Gabriel person, but then again she did not like anyone. She didn't dislike him, either. It was complicated; one could say she was able to abide his presence more than most her acquaintances. She only ever had acquaintances, of course, in her mind friends were just a waste of time.
Or at least they'd proven to be so in the past.
"What," for a second she paused, searched for the correct word, "house are you in?" Her guess was either on Ravenclaw or her own, Slytherin. He was not loud nor a buffoon, so that automatically ruled him out of the others.
Post by Gabriel Adams on Oct 25, 2010 14:24:12 GMT -5
Gabriel watched her, perplexed. She seemed unamused by everything, although granted he hadn't been trying to make her laugh. Still. Curious, too curious to pass up the conversation. How funny this girl and Tifa had both made the same connection, in their own little ways.
He nodded, as if to say, 'that's right'. He didn't find his own name particularly difficult to pronounce, yet people picked out nicknames for him all the same. To the angel remark, he merely smiled. "Sure."'
House, house. Oh yes. The things they were placed in upon their arrival to the school. In all sense of the word, Gabriel was a fourth - or fifth, he forgot - year, but he felt more like a first year. School, never mind wizardry, had never been his ... forte.
For obvious reasons.
He didn't get along. Technically.
"Ravenclaw." The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he found something amusing about being placed in such a house. The hat had had .... quite a time with him. Frankly, as much as he'd heard about sorters, he was surprised the head master or some such hadn't come after him.
Or maybe the hat hadn't picked that up? Whatever the case, Gabriel was content to wait. The place amused him. He glanced out the window, and his eyes flickered with something.
Longing?
"Do you fly?" he asked, looking back to her. It was an odd question, for sure. Still.
Post by Micha Volkov on Nov 2, 2010 16:12:55 GMT -5
Ravenclaw? She might have suspected. So far, she hadn't met anyone from that particular house, but she'd heard it was one for intellectuals. At first glance, he didn't seem the type, but Micha knew better than to judge a book by the cover.
"Ah," no emotion, just a slight syllable escaping her lips in acknowledgment. "I was almost placed there."
She had never thought deep into why the hat had chosen Slytherin, instead. It was a decision she had not been disinclined to, rather, she had not cared much at all except for to hope that her housemates would be quiet types, at the very least.
She'd heard whispers, rumors, that Slytherin was the house for 'bad' wizards and witches, but her only thoughts on that matter were that if her house was indeed full of dark magic, she would have to find someone to teach her a couple spells.
Things like that could be useful, one never knew.
"Do you fly?"
She inclined her head, dark eyes still on him. "Some. I do not own a broom, though." Perhaps the reason he kept looking outside had something to do with that.
Post by Gabriel Adams on Nov 11, 2010 10:50:34 GMT -5
"Funny." He managed a small smile, something more than usually existed on that scarred face. "I was almost put in Slytherin."
Why it hadn't put him there was beyond him. Perhaps it had something to do with he wasn't looking for power per say, just ... a good time. Even if that good time involved torture.
Well. How curious. Or perhaps not so much at all. Leaning against the wall was a slightly battered broom - cleaner than one would expect, considering what it was probably used for up here in the OWLERY. Still, Gabriel shot a cleaning spell as he crossed over to it. With a faint smile, he walked back and held it out to Micha.
"Yes, I fly." He tilted his head to one side. "Although perhaps not the way you're thinking of."
"Pretty much every broom works, right? So lets give it a go."
When released, the broom remained suspended in the air, as if waiting for her to take it. Without waiting for an answer, Gabriel went to the gap in the wall - it'd be easier to see what he was going to hit if he messed this up.
He gestured to the open, slightly chilly air. "Ladies first."
She was indeed curious. So solemn. He couldn't think of anyone he knew that was quite like her, but then, the people at this school were constantly surprising him. Such an odd handful of people. Gabriel waited to see what she would do, and where it would go from here.
Hell, if she took too long, he might go without her.
Post by Micha Volkov on Nov 11, 2010 21:55:15 GMT -5
Her gaze remained steady, following the boy as he walked away to bring back a broom, which he left hanging for her. There was no other brooms around, though there was always the possibility he was just planning on retrieving his through an Accio.
"Ladies first."
Primly, she took the broom and followed him to the other wall. Her smoke-colored eyes rose first to the horizon, then fell to the ground, so far below. She did not even know if this broom worked properly, nor how he was going to accompany her.
She would find out.
"You better catch up, archangel," she murmured, and stepped off the edge. Her arm immediately thrust the broom in front of her, her legs wrapping neatly around it as she fell. There was a brief moment where the broom didn't respond -- she was only slightly worried -- and then she was soaring back up, hands smoothing her skirt back down from where it had flipped up. Good thing Whites, that pervert, was not here, or he would probably have tried to sneak a look.
If Gabriel did not meet up with her soon, she would just fly on without him.
Post by Gabriel Adams on Nov 12, 2010 0:15:29 GMT -5
A smile curled on his features. "Don't worry."
For a moment he thought she might crash to the ground. Wouldn't that be funny, an unintentional murder that would get passed off as a suicide or just plain stupidity. He let his legs hang off the edge of the wall, and he let her get a bit ahead. To wherever they were going.
The only regret was that he wouldn't be able to talk in a minute. Oh well. The air felt good, and then wings whipped out. For one nightmare moment he thought - what if he broke his wings doing that? - and then everything slowed. With the flick of tail feathers, he could turn.
Where was she?
A flash of dark hair, pale skin, and the goshawk turned around. How would she even know it was him? Easy. With a scream, he flew alongside her, and in a moment of twisted insanity, he jerked. All it took was the slight change of his wings he could turn on a dime, and he was shooting across in front of her.
Hopefully she wouldn't like, freak out and fall and ... whatever. Die.
That wouldn't be how he planned it. Too fast, anyway, and what a mess. Indicating would be difficult, so he just jerked his head and flew level with her, sweeping around. Eventually he'd circle back around to the tower, and she could follow or do what she liked.
Stretching felt good, even if it was wings and not his actual arms. He should really get out more often.
Teagan Offline: This board is full of nostalgia.
Aug 22, 2020 8:39:09 GMT -5
Missing the old MH: gotta say missing when MH and all that was around.
Nov 6, 2019 0:02:30 GMT -5
Willow_lazy: why tf are there 400 posts about adidas
Sept 6, 2018 17:35:57 GMT -5
Azrael: I'm not hard to find, since I'm the only one there who goes by "Azzy", I'm pretty sure. XD
Feb 10, 2018 16:44:41 GMT -5
Azrael: Dunno if anyone still pops by here from time to time, but if any of you mofos do and still feel like gettin' yo nerd on, I've been hanging around this here place a bunch recently: www.roleplayerguild.com/
Feb 10, 2018 16:44:10 GMT -5
Azrael: hold onto your pantaloons
Jul 25, 2016 5:16:43 GMT -5