The lycan sat with her head rested on crossed arms, one hand rippling her fingers across the tabletop. Her pale green eyes were fixed on Nothing and No One, and her thoughts had gone Nowhere. She was still a bit numb from her talk with Torrid.
He hated her, she just knew it. Well. There went her last bit of humanity she'd been hanging on to. Fenrir would be happy there was nothing to keep her daughter in the human world. Seeing the other humans would just remind her of him.
So she was staying away.
Nobody wanted her there anyway, Muryllis had proved that. The lycan's eyes shifted to the untouched plate of fries and chicken by her left elbow. She just wasn't hungry anymore, she'd ordered the food to give herself something to do.
She sighed, sinking back into her thoughts. A cannon could have gone off in the street outside and she probably wouldn't have noticed.
A teacher was a respectable member of society. They had to be, to lead students onto a higher path of education and learning to improve society and make the world a better place. Teachers were morally upright, pillars of proper dignity, attitude, and appearance, leading their students with their example, not just their words.
Hopefully, none of Protégé's students thought of him as that kind of teacher. Because otherwise he'd be leading a constant conga line to the bar.
Today, however, Protégé was not going to the bar (insert gasp here).
(I SAID GASP!)
(Did you gasp?)
(Good.)
No, instead, he had chosen to visit other venues.
(You better not have been lying about gasping.)
Like what other venues? Well, like, places! He wasn't really too certain. Okay, so he had gone to the bar beforehand. He was thirsty! He had a nice bottle of a Portuguese import known as ginja. Very good cherry liquor. Which he had drunk way too fast as a result of trying to get the cherries out of the bottle. Which was why he was slightly tipsy after only drinking a liter of the stuff.
As he walked, he would peer into random establishments. Not really certain what he was looking for. Just walking the streets, looking in, walking some more. And then, he discovered something. The ground was plotting against him! As he opened a door to look in, it pitched upwards and sent him onto the ground of what was no doubt a fine and well known establishment. Well. There goes dignity.
Quickly standing back up to recover what dignity he could, he looked around, where he saw some girl, sitting all lonesome at a table, looking down. Seeing opportunity, he dashed over to her table and leaned in to whisper. "I'm going to sit here and talk to you, and we are going to pretend I fell over because I was surprised to see you, because we are going to claim I know you from somewhere."
Momentarily having a moment of clarity and clear-headedness, he noticed that she looked sad. Great. Now he probably seemed like an ass for that first comment. Well, that was always one thing he was good at. Now time to try and recover and actually look like a decent and considerate human being. "Penny for your thoughts?"
With a soft sigh, she took a brief drink from the cherry coke, then pushed it away, leaving a streak of condensation on the table. The temperature of the drink told her how long she'd been sitting there, staring at nothing. A sudden disruption of her staring startled her, and Willow sat up, a growl rumbling in her throat.
Oops.
She barely recognized him. There was no doubt in her mind he wouldn't recognize her. They had never spoken, and she'd only seen him from a distance. She didn't know his name, but she knew his smell. Creepy as it were, she knew it because she'd caught it while roaming the town, mostly around bars.
No surprise, she could scent liquor on his breath, and she didn't need to be a lycan for that. A prickle of irritation rushed up her spine, but she didn't need to be banned from anywhere else.
"I don't like boring random strangers with my personal life," Willow mumbled, dropping her head back on crossed arms. "It's very complicated. 'Sides. Telling you might get me in trouble." She sighed. "I don't need more of that."
Well, he should have expected this. He was intruding on someone's personal time, a cold reception should be just what he was thinking he'd get. Actually, whenever he was interacting with someone who hadn't had alcohol, it was a pretty typical reaction. Typically, it would make him stand up, walk away, and probably go find someone else to harass. This time, however, was different. What the girl had said had sparked his curiosity.
"Complicated, eh? Well, the thing about complicated stuff, it's complicated because it has a lot of parts, and a lot of edges, and a lot of separate facts all weirdly strewn about." He raised his hands to his head, forming circles around his eyes with his fingers. "Alcohol has this magical power, though. It creates these special lenses for your eyes. They don't sharpen your sight or make things more clear, though. Rather, they blur it all. Edges and individual facts disappear, and it all becomes blurred together into one giant puddle of...thing. In this puddle of thing, you see how stuff relates, how it doesn't. What's most prominent and what's least prominent. It actually rather simplifies things."
Feeling he might make a kind gesture, he tapped his wand against the drink, while focusing on making it colder. He was uncertain if the spell was considered transfiguration or charms. But, whatever it was, it made the drink colder. While some drinks lost nothing while warming up, he knew sodas were notorious for losing flavor as they warmed up. He chuckled quietly at his action. Hoping to warm her attitude to me by chilling her drink.
Speaking again, he addressed her other concern. "And if you're worried about trouble, well, what trouble can come from two friends talking? Or, judging by how you sound and seem to be feeling and thinking, what more trouble can you get in for this?"
She stared at him, unsure what to say. He was weird, barely likeable. The lycan glanced at her drink, knowing magic when she saw it, and pressed one finger to the glass. Cold as ice, once again.
Hoping he hadn't added another ingredient, she took a sip, and looked back up. "Thank you."
What more trouble? The BFC might come after her. That would be trouble. Big trouble. Willow didn't want or need to go to jail. Besides, the BFC would probably find some excuse to kill her.
Except they wouldn't really need an excuse, if they found out about Erin. Her uncle's death was before being a lycan, but that would just add onto it. No, Willow didn't need anyone looking her up.
"Learning what people are can get you killed."
He smelled...odd. He was human, definitely wizard, but he had a slight scent about him she found vaguely familiar, comforting. Canine. Hmm. Willow frowned at him for a moment, pressing her tongue against on of her canines. "You haven't asked why I didn't just cool the drink off myself."
"It's because I can't."
Everyone else knew, what the hell would it matter if one more? "Run off and tell the BFC, hell, I don't care." Willow stared at the table. "I'm a lycan."
He had confused her, apparently. When she thanked him for cooling her drink, he merely nodded his head in acceptance. Something was eating at this girl. His tipsyness was starting to turn into a light buzz. No surprise, really. It wasn't a lot of alcohol that got him drunk, just quick alcohol. Once you teach your liver how to, it can handle that pretty well.
As his mind cleared, he focused on her. A lot on her mind. She just sat there for a moment, lost in her own thoughts, before giving out one ominous statement.
Learning what people are can get you killed.
Well, he knew a bit about that. In his travels after graduation, he had learned a lot about a lot of people, and that may or may not be part of the reason why he had left the open road and come here, a little more stable of a place, a little safer. Strangely enough, he felt this was a case that was slightly different. As much danger as he might be in if he knew, it seemed like she would be in even more if others knew. Good reason for apprehension.
She continued on. You haven't asked why I didn't just cool the drink off myself. Before he could respond, she went on. And dropped all care apparently and flat out told him. I'm a lycan.
Well now. How did one react to this? Surprise? Fear? Dread? Loathing? Jealousy? Not Protégé. His first thought: Why does it seem 90% of the people I meet in these places are lycans?
The time for contemplating the prevalence of lycans was not now, however. Protégé was a man who believed in good cheer; the enjoyment, spreading, and maintaining of it. This girl seemed lacking of it. That was against his ideas. It was his job to fix it.
"I didn't ask why because really, there are quite a few reasons why you might not have been able to. Not good enough at that type of magic. Lazy. Wand stolen. Religious beliefs. Because the people here actually charge for ice and have banned you from magically cooling drinks. It's weird, but I've seen it before. And was kicked out of the restaurant for it too. Never trust restaurants. Always ask that first. 'Hi, are the steaks made to order? How many sides do I get? Do you charge for ice?'" Completely random. Completely nonsensical. Hey, the alcohol was wearing off, but it was still there.
"And as for running off and telling the BFC, I don't think I will. I made sure to make a nice to do list of things to do today." As he said this, he held up an imaginary piece of paper and stared at it intently, checking things off as he went. "Fall on face. Check. Put on pants. Check. Meet lycan, check. Develop way to turn internal organs into microbrewery without killing self...hmm, haven't gotten to that yet. Let's see..." As he said this, he flipped imaginary pages. "Nope, I am not seeing on here anything about 'Talk to group of judgmental bastards', 'Turn over someone for no crime', or 'Anger a few of my friends'."
Sighing, he put down the imaginary to-do list. "I'm sorry, friend, but it looks like I just can't. My day is obviously packed, and I just can't fit those in. And I'm a horrible procrastinator, especially with things I would not want to do, so I doubt that'll get on the list anytime soon. Hope you don't mind that."
Willow suddenly found it very hard to be gloomy. This boy was...weird to say the least, but his lack of normal reaction to her statement was refreshing. Then again..she'd met a few that had been like that. Felix had been shocked, but he'd gotten over it.
She wondered if Torrid ever would.
Oh hell, she had a perfectly nice, albeit weird, person right here, and she was drowning herself in gloom and doom. The lycan sat up a little straighter, trying not to smile.
"You somehow managed to fit in 'cheer up a very depressed wolf-girl' in there. Congrats." She took another drink, then fished a fry off her plate. "I'm Willow."
Her eyes roved over him, trying to pick up some clue to what he was. She didn't know his name, not that should could remember. Hmm. "If you don't mind me asking...Who and what are you?"
If he says he's just a plain old wizard, I'll...eat the plate, Willow thought, staring broodingly at him.
He smiled as her composure changed. Mission: success! "How do you know it wasn't on my to-do list? You didn't see it. For all you know, I could have been commissioned by...", at this point, he proceeded to destroy any credibility by gesturing wildly while trying to think of an answer, "a secret society...of...uhm...random...girl...cheerer-uppers?" He laughed. "Or something a bit more logical."
Her question was a bit more odd. Who and what are you? Of course, her being a lycan, she'd be like every other lycan. Stronger senses, even while human. Which means she, like every other lycan, would pick up the coyote scent on him. And, of course, would confuse the hell out of her, just like a lot of other lycans. It was fun, but he figured it might get him in trouble someday. Ah well, might as well enjoy it for now.
"Well, I am Protégé." That handled the easy part of the question, who is he. The next part was a complex question, so why not give a complex answer? "As for what I am, well, that's not so simple. I wish I could say I'm just a plain old wizard, but I'm not even that. Really, you stray too far away from transfiguration, and I have virtually no skill. Transfiguration is really all I have, and that's why I've got the job of teaching Transfiguration up at the school. After graduation I had become a hobo, made a few bad decisions, decided I needed a safe place to go, and came here and was lucky to get that job."
At this point, he looked at Willow and smiled. "Something tells me though that that's not what you meant by 'what am I?' Well, yes, I am not just this. But I'm nothing more than a simple human. What your nose is picking up is the other form of me, but it's nothing special like what you have. I'm an animagi, and I can turn into a coyote. Hopefully that explains why to you I smell a bit odd for the casual wizard in the bar."
The lycan stared at him, trying to figure him out. She didn't get it. Who ran around talking to random people like this? Protégé did. She liked him, but now she was worried. The last person she'd engaged in harmless conversation had ended up in the Hospital Wing after nearly bleeding to death. As much as she would have liked to blame him for the whole thing, the scars on her arm and torso, she couldn't. The shade had been after her, and Felix had been caught in the middle.
Protégé's demeanor pushed the thoughts away. It was impossible to dwell on anything remotely gloomy. Willow wanted to relax, be cheerful, but the threat was there. She didn't even know this man. Losing a stranger, due to her problems, would bother her almost as much as losing a friend to it.
"You saying your a hobo would be like me saying I'm an ex-waitress," Willow replied, staring at him. An animagi. Someone had asked her, if she felt the need to be half animal, why not just learn to be an animagi? It wasn't just the urge to be wild.
It was wanting to belong.
"Being around me tends to get people hurt," Willow said quietly. A faint smile flicked on her face. "Coyote, huh? I haven't seen any of those since I was visiting my home."
There had been a small group of them, behind her house. Willow had rarely seen them, but they could hear it, often enough. There were no coyotes in Fenrir's Wood, that was for sure. The smaller canines had been driven out by the wolves.
Sadly, Willow couldn't recall who the Transfiguration teacher before Protégé had been. She remembered attending a class, even what she done, but she couldn't remember the teacher. "I attended a class once, maybe...two years ago? Long time ago, anyway. The teacher gave us a pile of Muggle items and had us combine them, bring it too life." Her smile reached her eyes for the first time. "Mine was a little dog with tennis balls for legs, but it didn't have joints, so it just sort of...wobbled."
She laughed briefly, ending in a sigh. "Anything interesting happen around the school?"
Protégé laughed at her comment about him being a hobo. "Well, I was a hobo before I came back here. So I'm an ex-hobo. So that would make you...an ex-...ex-waitress? Does that mean you are a waitress now? I've never been good with these complicated negatives and things." It was an interesting thought. If they were an ex-ex-anything, did it mean they were one again? Would it require working at the same place?
Being around me tends to get people hurt. Well, that's certainly a depressing thought. Negativity was not good! Except when balanced by positivity! Balance was necessary! "Hmm, well, that's unfortunate. Being around me tends to result in trouble, but typically the small kind. Or the drunken kind. Or good times and merriment. You know, I don't remember half the things that happen around me I think..." It was a startling revelation. It was as if for long periods of time he did nothing, his mind was blank as to what happened in these gaps! As if his life was written by another, often too lazy to actually write things that happen and leaving large sections of history blank! It was strange indeed.
"Ah, you've seen coyotes before?" Protégé said, leaving his wonderings and getting away from the depressing statement of hers. "You lived in America once, then. I've seen one once or twice, but not often. Just when I was debating what it was I'd be as an animagi, a coyote just really seemed to connect with my personality. Dunno if it's the same now, but both sides of me are still happy with it it seems, so I guess I'm still roughly the same. Still got a bit of that coyote personality in me." Pretty similar, actually. Most of his friends were really random acquaintances he met once or twice but never hung out with. He had his affiliations and groups but still kept independent of their views and ideas. Maybe he wasn't so much of a pack being.
He saw her eyes light up as she spoke of the transfiguration class long ago, heard the happiness in the laughter, but caught the sigh at the end. She's sad she's gone from the school. It was quite obvious. Plus, it was a place you got attached to, no doubt about that. Protégé was attached, even with his independence. Imagine what the bond would be like for someone who was a lycan, a pack animal. It'd be a strong bond. "Hmm, don't remember that class. Of course, I wasn't really good at attending classes back then..." He winced a bit. "And I was a prefect even. Of course, being a prefect gets you a few privileges and a fancy title. A professor gets payment. Maybe they should have payed me back then."
It was his turn to sigh when she asked what was happening up at the school. "Hell if I know about anything really. I try to find out, but I'm hesitant to ask Talon or anyone who might report to him...which knocks out about ninety percent of the people who would know. No offense to them, but I'm no fool, and I know that their priorities might not match up with my ideologies. Or whatever rules they obey. Granted, I understand that some are probably necessary for the safety of students, keeping the peace, yadayadayada. I'm just too much of an idealist I guess for them. So I try and find out, but truth is, I know virtually nothing."
(OOC:Ghah this seems ugly to me. Sorry >.<)
Last Edit: Sept 16, 2009 2:27:03 GMT -5 by Protégé
Willow stretched until her shoulder joints popped in their place, an odd sensation but refreshing. Probably not a good idea. You'll get arthritis, people always said, popping your bones like that. Arthritis. Who cared? In twenty years, she'd either be dead or in a jail cell for 'murdering Erin Drayton'. Wasn't that how some people saw it? Some, anyway. She'd poisoned him, as surely as she'd handed him the red apple.
Brushing hair out of her eyes, she took a long drink. Cold. Good.
"I don't know what anything is anymore," she said, smiling at the table. "Yeah, I grew up in Boston, but I was further south for a little while. Country house."
A family who didn't know what to do with the girl who ran off to Spain to be with her father's grave. She noted Protégé was fond of sidestepping statements that depressed him. A handy little trait, wasn't it? If you didn't like it, you ignored it. Sometimes, that would be annoying, but Willow wasn't in a mood to be annoyed. It was too easy to relax with this one. She remembered everything from before, and definitely the coyotes. Willow had seen them after she had met Fenrir.
Willow wondered what would happen if she went back, shape-shifted, and ran into the woods. It'd be amusing, that was for sure. "I'm not sure if I'm the same. Now. I don't...remember alot from before. Memories get fuzzy I guess. I didn't know. I wrote alot of it down, in a little journal, but it's not the same..." She looked around at him. The lycan was feeling particularly corny today. "Hold onto the memories, okay? You really miss them when they're gone."
Torrid memories. Felix Memories. Don and Seth memories. Seth. She'd caught his scent on the grounds. What had her cousin been doing here? It made her nervous. "I'm going to the Town Meeting. Try and talk some sense into these idiots who think they can just stroll onto the woods and walk away."
"It's really not safe, you know. Fenrir gets..upset."
There had been alot of blood. But then her memories flew to Orca, and Leseur. That hadn't been bloody. That had been pure fun, chasing a moose, jumping into the trees to pull Orca down by the tail...It was good fun. They would have to do that again, the next new moon. New moons were so dark, so mysterious. More fun.
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