Post by Sparky Cobalt on Nov 25, 2010 4:57:43 GMT -5
What can you do with a sentimental heart?
One long, deep pull of air was pulled in, pushed out, creating Sparky X. Cobalt's only constant friend. The misty puff of steam rose in the air and slowly disappeared, a metaphor for his life. How man times had Sparky done that, the entire time he'd been alive? As far back as he could remember, he'd sat and watched his breath fly up and leave him as soon as it got cold enough. That breath had guided him through those long, awkward preteen years, when he was alone and confused (More so than now, anyway). It had spoken to him softly, showing him the world as a teenager. He didn't know just how long ago he'd first become friends with that puff of white, but it was something he still clung to after all these years. It was all he had left. It was there, just as ever, as soon as it got cold enough to see. It was there for him.
Gods knew nothing else was.
He had Orca for a friend now, of course. It was great! It was fun, lighthearted with a hint of danger. But there was nothing left of his past, or rather, nobody left of his past. When he had moved to Spain from his home near Liverpool, his first life had ended. He had never seen his parents or Tiff again. He hadn't seen Max as the plan was when he'd gotten here. Not even his house (note, house, not home) wasn't there anymore, torn down and turned into yet another freeway exit or something. Firefox University was his home, and it had been for years. He'd clung to the idea of 'back home' when things had gotten bad, but the truth was that this was home. He'd thought that, surely, he'd have to move on after he graduated, but Talon's good will had come and rescued him from having to Deal With Life, and he was glad for it. Here he was, teaching the people of the future, the students. Teaching! Who would've thought that he, Sparky X. Cobalt, distracted stutter extraordinaire, would be teaching.
Apparently not the students, and it sure wasn't him either.
Even Sparky knew that he was a lousy teacher. He hadn't even been a good candidate, personality wise, to be a teacher in the first place. This wasn't a recent development. He had always sucked with people, surely Talon knew that? Which brought to mind the eternal questions of how exactly he'd become Head Boy, and even further back to him becoming a Prefect in the first place. If anything was proof that he was a bad teacher, it was his first class ever. He had barely looked his students in the eye, mumbled his way through an introduction, tried to keep it friendly and light hearted. Within thirty seconds there had been students running around the room, people screaming at each other, fucking Ashelle was pouting about her goddamn mice, and there was not a single drop of respect in sight.
Two classes later, not much had changed yet. He wasn't sure if he expected it to change. Deep down, he knew that students would never respect him, never come to like his classes. They wouldn't even appreciate the easy grade, let alone enjoy what he wanted to teach them. Why did he even try? It wasn't like with Morgan. He'd heard Morgan had gotten a job as Charms Professor through the teacher's grapevine, and he was happy for her. He really was! There was a small part of him that resented her, however. If he had been something like a Charms teacher, perhaps he would've stood a chance. Sure, his substitute Charms class was a disaster as well, but that was the point. He was a substitute. No one respected substitutes. If he had taught Charms, instead of the laughable Muggle Studies, perhaps people would've appreciated him. Wasn't he eligible to teach charms? Was it that Talon didn't trust him, believe in his skill? Say what you want, but Sparky was a graduating Ravenclaw as well. Perhaps not as exceptional as the elusive Monolayre, and definitely not as noble, smart, and logical as a Pendragon, but he was sure the name Cobalt could've brought respect as well. Here he was, though, teaching kids how to make French Fucking Toast (as Layne Larkin would put it) and sucking even at that.
It wasn't like he was ungrateful, though. He was glad that Talon had decided to keep him on as staff. It made it so he didn't have to go deal with real life. He didn't have a family to go home to like the others. He didn't have a mother to share three long years of emotional angst with. He didn't have a father to discuss teaching pointers with. His entire family was dead, for Christ's sake. He didn't have any Loved Ones, neither back 'home' or here. It wasn't for a lack of trying. During his time at Firefox, Sparky had definitely attempted to gain friends, loved ones, even lovers. Could anyone blame him for being lonely, for wanting friends? He was in a brand new country, eternities away from home, and his brother was missing. He'd wanted to make friends, wanted to learn what it was like to love a friend like you would a brother. He hadn't even gotten close. There wasn't a single person that he could call a friend left from his school days. What did he get from trying to make friends here?
Nothing.
Every attempt at making friends here had ended in a tragic failure. Maybe he just wasn't the 'friend' type, rather a 'mere acquaintance' type. It hurt. He remembered making friends with plenty of people, but none of them had stayed friends.
Even Morgan.
Morgan had left after she graduated, though their friendship had changed after he'd become a professor. The friendship had just plain ended, however, after Morgan left. He never heard that she had a gruesome Quidditch accident. She'd never called him (never mind he had no phone), sobbing about being disowned. Wasn't that what friends did, they kept in touch? Morgan seemed like the last person to forget politeness and friend etiquette, so maybe he just wasn't as good of a friend to her as he'd originally thought. Maybe their relationship was simple school-mate, team-mate, prefect-mate(?), and nothing further. Perhaps she'd always just been politely humoring him. She seemed the type.
He thought some more, and supposed that if he didn't have a class gain, no one would notice. Not even Talon, who would just replace him like he'd replaced the rest of his staff. Whatever happened to the old Charms teacher, Naunet? The multiple divinations professors? Transfiguration? Runes? How could members of a teaching staff just disappear, more constant than their classes? He had no idea, but it left him without any constant colleagues. He couldn't even have friendly banter among teachers, because there was never the same teacher twice. Every time he got friendly with someone, it seemed like they just disappeared. Went in active. It wasn't like he could exactly socialize with his students, either. What does all this mean, you ask?
Translation:
Sparky X. Cobalt is a lonely, friendless bastard.
It wasn't that he'd forgotten about Orca, no, far from it. He just didn't know what to do about that boy. Every time he really thought about what happened, even after the friendly events afterward, he just... He started losing faith in everything.
Orca, a.k.a. Teagan the Second, a.k.a. Tyson Call, a.k.a. The White Wolf, Terror of The Triangle Tunnel, a.k.a. Lovable Mutt and the Chosen One, was technically still his very best friend. The fact that Orca was Sparky's only friend was best left ignored when thinking this over. The problem was (and it was a big one), Orca had done the one thing that Sparky had always believed friends weren't supposed to do.
Orca had lied to him. Whether it was for him or not, it didn't matter. Orca had lied. It wasn't a little white lie, not something innocent like 'Oh, I told you I couldn't visit because I was buying you your birthday present!', or 'Just the tip, I promise', or even just 'I like you, a lot'. Orca had consistently lied to him for over two years. Orca had lied to him by just existing as Teagan II. You could probably argue that rather than lying, he was just not telling whole truths, but it was the same thing in the end. Whether it was because Orca didn't want Sparky to hate him or not, Orca had lied to him.
His one and only friend left had thought that he, Sparky X. Cobalt, Ravenclaw alumni of Firefox University, would be stupid enough to not figure out that he was his dog.
The worst part?
Orca was right.
He was so stupid. He'd believed it for so goddamn long. He'd doted on Teagan II, always talking to her when he couldn't find someone to talk to (which was always). In a way, Teagan II was his best friend, too, and even better, one that he could dress up in a big Spanish dress and she wouldn't get all pissy! Sure, she'd crawl out of it way too quick for his liking, but it was understandable. Teagan II was a dog.
But she wasn't.
'She' was Orca.
It was like..
It was like Teagan, all over again.
He'd thought, honestly thought, that he could make her like him. He'd pursued her, for reasons unbeknownst to himself, for the better part of a year. Two years, even. Most of his time at Firefox was spent pining over her, trying to impress, giving her presents she didn't want. He just wanted her to be his friend, at first, and it had blossomed into something more after that night in Drakborough. Their hearts had collided that night, bounced off each other in a flurry of sparks.
It was bad because...
He'd thought she'd felt the same.
She hadn't ever said, of course, but for a while, there was a hint... A hint of something. Something was there, inside her, he could feel it. His blood was telling him so.
These days, of course, it was gone. He'd known that for a long time. It'd been gone for years.
But she wouldn't... She wouldn't even talk to him.
It wasn't that she didn't love him.
It was that she hated him.
Hated him to the point that she didn't care whether he existed.
He needed to stop thinking like this. It never ended well. It was just him in a big pile of sad, a long story full of sighs.
In truth, he was jealous of Teagan, to get over what afflicted her before so easily. It clung to him even to this day, staying in his blood like a bad case of cancer whiplash. If he could, he'd just forget her. Forget all his hopes, all his one sided fantasies. Tear down that stupid fucking poster in his stupid fucking room and just go somewhere, some country far away, fucking Egypt for all he cared and just scream, over and over, I don't give a fuck about Teagan Monolayre.
But he couldn't, and he was pretty sure everyone knew that.
He doubted he'd ever be over Teagan, really, no matter how much Orca blocked those memories with his eternal sunshine, making him laugh and forget and eat uncomfortable amounts of red meat and bacon. He couldn't hide behind Orca like that, anymore, but there just wasn't anything he could do. He couldn't exactly deal with it. He'd been trying to do that for over four years now, and it had never been a good scene.
He thought briefly about suicide, the way he'd thought about it before. He knew he couldn't, and wouldn't, at this point, resort to that again, but before he had tried to.
With anything. He'd always failed. He'd tried with his toaster. He was an idiot teenager, who didn't know about real problems that real people faced.
And here he was, in the same fucking boat four years later.
He really was amounting to nothing. He had no future.
He sighed once more, watching the puff of white float on up, happy to be out of his system. What was he doing? He was a damn adult, now, and he was still sitting, a small distance from the lake, staring up at the sky. It wasn't going to change anything. No matter how long he stared at it, things wouldn't get better.
If he smoked, he would've been. As it was, he was starting to get cold and more and more apathetic as the chill reached him. Ah, well. It wasn't like he had anything to do in the morning. He didn't have any sort of real responsibility, when it came down to it. He could probably just sit around, sighing and crying about old loves and new loves.
Old habits die hard.
One long, deep pull of air was pulled in, pushed out, creating Sparky X. Cobalt's only constant friend. The misty puff of steam rose in the air and slowly disappeared, a metaphor for his life. How man times had Sparky done that, the entire time he'd been alive? As far back as he could remember, he'd sat and watched his breath fly up and leave him as soon as it got cold enough. That breath had guided him through those long, awkward preteen years, when he was alone and confused (More so than now, anyway). It had spoken to him softly, showing him the world as a teenager. He didn't know just how long ago he'd first become friends with that puff of white, but it was something he still clung to after all these years. It was all he had left. It was there, just as ever, as soon as it got cold enough to see. It was there for him.
Gods knew nothing else was.
He had Orca for a friend now, of course. It was great! It was fun, lighthearted with a hint of danger. But there was nothing left of his past, or rather, nobody left of his past. When he had moved to Spain from his home near Liverpool, his first life had ended. He had never seen his parents or Tiff again. He hadn't seen Max as the plan was when he'd gotten here. Not even his house (note, house, not home) wasn't there anymore, torn down and turned into yet another freeway exit or something. Firefox University was his home, and it had been for years. He'd clung to the idea of 'back home' when things had gotten bad, but the truth was that this was home. He'd thought that, surely, he'd have to move on after he graduated, but Talon's good will had come and rescued him from having to Deal With Life, and he was glad for it. Here he was, teaching the people of the future, the students. Teaching! Who would've thought that he, Sparky X. Cobalt, distracted stutter extraordinaire, would be teaching.
Apparently not the students, and it sure wasn't him either.
Even Sparky knew that he was a lousy teacher. He hadn't even been a good candidate, personality wise, to be a teacher in the first place. This wasn't a recent development. He had always sucked with people, surely Talon knew that? Which brought to mind the eternal questions of how exactly he'd become Head Boy, and even further back to him becoming a Prefect in the first place. If anything was proof that he was a bad teacher, it was his first class ever. He had barely looked his students in the eye, mumbled his way through an introduction, tried to keep it friendly and light hearted. Within thirty seconds there had been students running around the room, people screaming at each other, fucking Ashelle was pouting about her goddamn mice, and there was not a single drop of respect in sight.
Two classes later, not much had changed yet. He wasn't sure if he expected it to change. Deep down, he knew that students would never respect him, never come to like his classes. They wouldn't even appreciate the easy grade, let alone enjoy what he wanted to teach them. Why did he even try? It wasn't like with Morgan. He'd heard Morgan had gotten a job as Charms Professor through the teacher's grapevine, and he was happy for her. He really was! There was a small part of him that resented her, however. If he had been something like a Charms teacher, perhaps he would've stood a chance. Sure, his substitute Charms class was a disaster as well, but that was the point. He was a substitute. No one respected substitutes. If he had taught Charms, instead of the laughable Muggle Studies, perhaps people would've appreciated him. Wasn't he eligible to teach charms? Was it that Talon didn't trust him, believe in his skill? Say what you want, but Sparky was a graduating Ravenclaw as well. Perhaps not as exceptional as the elusive Monolayre, and definitely not as noble, smart, and logical as a Pendragon, but he was sure the name Cobalt could've brought respect as well. Here he was, though, teaching kids how to make French Fucking Toast (as Layne Larkin would put it) and sucking even at that.
It wasn't like he was ungrateful, though. He was glad that Talon had decided to keep him on as staff. It made it so he didn't have to go deal with real life. He didn't have a family to go home to like the others. He didn't have a mother to share three long years of emotional angst with. He didn't have a father to discuss teaching pointers with. His entire family was dead, for Christ's sake. He didn't have any Loved Ones, neither back 'home' or here. It wasn't for a lack of trying. During his time at Firefox, Sparky had definitely attempted to gain friends, loved ones, even lovers. Could anyone blame him for being lonely, for wanting friends? He was in a brand new country, eternities away from home, and his brother was missing. He'd wanted to make friends, wanted to learn what it was like to love a friend like you would a brother. He hadn't even gotten close. There wasn't a single person that he could call a friend left from his school days. What did he get from trying to make friends here?
Nothing.
Every attempt at making friends here had ended in a tragic failure. Maybe he just wasn't the 'friend' type, rather a 'mere acquaintance' type. It hurt. He remembered making friends with plenty of people, but none of them had stayed friends.
Even Morgan.
Morgan had left after she graduated, though their friendship had changed after he'd become a professor. The friendship had just plain ended, however, after Morgan left. He never heard that she had a gruesome Quidditch accident. She'd never called him (never mind he had no phone), sobbing about being disowned. Wasn't that what friends did, they kept in touch? Morgan seemed like the last person to forget politeness and friend etiquette, so maybe he just wasn't as good of a friend to her as he'd originally thought. Maybe their relationship was simple school-mate, team-mate, prefect-mate(?), and nothing further. Perhaps she'd always just been politely humoring him. She seemed the type.
He thought some more, and supposed that if he didn't have a class gain, no one would notice. Not even Talon, who would just replace him like he'd replaced the rest of his staff. Whatever happened to the old Charms teacher, Naunet? The multiple divinations professors? Transfiguration? Runes? How could members of a teaching staff just disappear, more constant than their classes? He had no idea, but it left him without any constant colleagues. He couldn't even have friendly banter among teachers, because there was never the same teacher twice. Every time he got friendly with someone, it seemed like they just disappeared. Went in active. It wasn't like he could exactly socialize with his students, either. What does all this mean, you ask?
Translation:
Sparky X. Cobalt is a lonely, friendless bastard.
It wasn't that he'd forgotten about Orca, no, far from it. He just didn't know what to do about that boy. Every time he really thought about what happened, even after the friendly events afterward, he just... He started losing faith in everything.
Orca, a.k.a. Teagan the Second, a.k.a. Tyson Call, a.k.a. The White Wolf, Terror of The Triangle Tunnel, a.k.a. Lovable Mutt and the Chosen One, was technically still his very best friend. The fact that Orca was Sparky's only friend was best left ignored when thinking this over. The problem was (and it was a big one), Orca had done the one thing that Sparky had always believed friends weren't supposed to do.
Orca had lied to him. Whether it was for him or not, it didn't matter. Orca had lied. It wasn't a little white lie, not something innocent like 'Oh, I told you I couldn't visit because I was buying you your birthday present!', or 'Just the tip, I promise', or even just 'I like you, a lot'. Orca had consistently lied to him for over two years. Orca had lied to him by just existing as Teagan II. You could probably argue that rather than lying, he was just not telling whole truths, but it was the same thing in the end. Whether it was because Orca didn't want Sparky to hate him or not, Orca had lied to him.
His one and only friend left had thought that he, Sparky X. Cobalt, Ravenclaw alumni of Firefox University, would be stupid enough to not figure out that he was his dog.
The worst part?
Orca was right.
He was so stupid. He'd believed it for so goddamn long. He'd doted on Teagan II, always talking to her when he couldn't find someone to talk to (which was always). In a way, Teagan II was his best friend, too, and even better, one that he could dress up in a big Spanish dress and she wouldn't get all pissy! Sure, she'd crawl out of it way too quick for his liking, but it was understandable. Teagan II was a dog.
But she wasn't.
'She' was Orca.
It was like..
It was like Teagan, all over again.
He'd thought, honestly thought, that he could make her like him. He'd pursued her, for reasons unbeknownst to himself, for the better part of a year. Two years, even. Most of his time at Firefox was spent pining over her, trying to impress, giving her presents she didn't want. He just wanted her to be his friend, at first, and it had blossomed into something more after that night in Drakborough. Their hearts had collided that night, bounced off each other in a flurry of sparks.
It was bad because...
He'd thought she'd felt the same.
She hadn't ever said, of course, but for a while, there was a hint... A hint of something. Something was there, inside her, he could feel it. His blood was telling him so.
These days, of course, it was gone. He'd known that for a long time. It'd been gone for years.
But she wouldn't... She wouldn't even talk to him.
It wasn't that she didn't love him.
It was that she hated him.
Hated him to the point that she didn't care whether he existed.
He needed to stop thinking like this. It never ended well. It was just him in a big pile of sad, a long story full of sighs.
In truth, he was jealous of Teagan, to get over what afflicted her before so easily. It clung to him even to this day, staying in his blood like a bad case of cancer whiplash. If he could, he'd just forget her. Forget all his hopes, all his one sided fantasies. Tear down that stupid fucking poster in his stupid fucking room and just go somewhere, some country far away, fucking Egypt for all he cared and just scream, over and over, I don't give a fuck about Teagan Monolayre.
But he couldn't, and he was pretty sure everyone knew that.
He doubted he'd ever be over Teagan, really, no matter how much Orca blocked those memories with his eternal sunshine, making him laugh and forget and eat uncomfortable amounts of red meat and bacon. He couldn't hide behind Orca like that, anymore, but there just wasn't anything he could do. He couldn't exactly deal with it. He'd been trying to do that for over four years now, and it had never been a good scene.
He thought briefly about suicide, the way he'd thought about it before. He knew he couldn't, and wouldn't, at this point, resort to that again, but before he had tried to.
With anything. He'd always failed. He'd tried with his toaster. He was an idiot teenager, who didn't know about real problems that real people faced.
And here he was, in the same fucking boat four years later.
He really was amounting to nothing. He had no future.
He sighed once more, watching the puff of white float on up, happy to be out of his system. What was he doing? He was a damn adult, now, and he was still sitting, a small distance from the lake, staring up at the sky. It wasn't going to change anything. No matter how long he stared at it, things wouldn't get better.
If he smoked, he would've been. As it was, he was starting to get cold and more and more apathetic as the chill reached him. Ah, well. It wasn't like he had anything to do in the morning. He didn't have any sort of real responsibility, when it came down to it. He could probably just sit around, sighing and crying about old loves and new loves.
Old habits die hard.