modern icarus.

flirt with death, tease the inevitable, give the void a saucy wink.

[blvdgers]

and i'd call you atlas, but he wasn't given a choice to hold the stars. you were, yet still you BREAK your back by holding the sky in your palms.

#BLVDGERS. a dependent henry fortescue established by rachel on the 31st of march, 2022.

biography.     statistics.     pinterest.     noxtms.

[vogueman]

Mason Gooding photographed by Raul Romo for The Laterals Magazine. Mason wears outfit Brunello Cucinelli

[blvdgers]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  hogsmeade village  ! 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶  :  @graciieux​  !

so, it wasn’t his best made plan. he could hardly be blamed for that. mattie had provided the opportunity in the first place by dragging him along to the tree lighting ceremony by side apparition and then wandering off into the crowd to find their friends, leaving him alone to wander the familiar village under unfamiliar circumstances. if they’d stuck by his side - as promised, he might add - then they’d have stumbled upon gracie in a kind of ... neutral territory, and henry wouldn’t have spared even a thought to how he might strike up meaningful conversation or, perhaps, how to ask whether that was something she might be interested in at all at some point in the future. mattie’s friends were generally off limits. he respected that. but when mattie was nowhere to be seen, and gracie’s sibling - he knew they were some sort of bird, maybe a lark, or a robin - having bounded off a while before and never returned, he sort of figured that keeping grace company was an acceptable thing to do, and... well, whatever came of that was fine. right ?

it took him a few minutes to work himself up for it, but, finally... “grace. hi,” he smiles, all white teeth and dimples, his ungloved and chilly hands glued to the insides of his pockets. wix milled all around them, waiting in the queue for cocoa or standing around for the christmas tree lights, but ( as per usual, at least since the gala ), his attention was focused on her, from bobble hat to cheeks rosy from the cold. “are you a willing participant, or... did you get dragged out here as well ?” 

[blvdgers]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  fortescue’s ice cream parlour, diagon alley  !

“i hate to say it-” he gives the impression of really meaning it, too - eyes wide and earnest, lips curved into a sympathetic frown, he gestures helplessly towards where he just came from the back of the ice cream parlour, “but we’re all out of that flavor. sorry for getting your hopes up, but seems somebody cleared us out before you got here.” truth be told, a lot of people were clearing a lot of unused flavors, and henry couldn’t actually find it within himself to be mad about it. fortescue’s did good business during the summer, but the colder months were difficult. gimmick or not, midnight on diagon alley was likely going to tide them over through the holiday season - which was probably why he felt compelled to offer, “freckle & hyde’s just as good. d’you want a sample scoop?”

[blvdgers]

graciieux​:

sheepish expression meets two blue eyes the size of saucers - grace is not sure whether she is more impressed with henry’s ability to carry four champagne glasses ( they’d have shattered on the floor had roles been reversed, knowing her luck ) or how he seemingly gets all of the champagne names correct. they both are a bit out of place in their own ways, which perhaps will make her next confession easier to say, but she interrupts him first with a shaking head and a hand gently placed on his arm. “henry, it’s fine.” and really, it is. “i’m sure half the guests tonight would HATE to hear it, but i’m positive i won’t be able to taste the differences. i think any time i’ve had champagne outside of . . these things it’s been… the VALUE variety.”

to tell the truth, the poor server who had dealt with him up at the bar couldn’t have been getting paid enough for what henry had put him through, but he really hadn’t been trying to be an intentional annoyance. he just wanted grace to enjoy herself, and he saw it as kind of his duty to ensure - there was factor of mattie and how quickly they’d have his head if he did anything wrong on this night of all nights, but moreso than all that, henry was keenly aware of his own trophy date status. he felt like he was there to provide her easy conversation & look nice doing it, and he’d decided that providing the right drink fell within his roles and responsibilities. the server had had to repeat the names three times before he’d got them, which he was grateful for, and now he was just trying his best ( in all ways, best shown when he moves to put his hand over hers like he’s reassuring her and only for her to move it away again, just as he latches on and gives his own arm a squeeze ). freshly embarrassed but newly desperate to move on, he gives a relieved chuckle and says, “i’m not a champagne person either. in my experience, they’ll all make you feel the same by the end of the night, whatever the price.” not that he’d had to pay, but the point still felt like it stood to scrutiny. he admits, “i’d have rathered a lager, but they didn’t have any in their options. bit mad, to have spent all this money and not have anything normal, but then, that’s the ministry all over.” a pause, to consider the fact that grace does work within the ministry, and then he adds, “no offense.”

[blvdgers]

hoggleswart​:

It  isn’t  often  Flint  feels  something  as  simple  as  gratitude.   They’re  a  little    (    a  lot    )    too  self - serving  to  ever  really  consider  the  concept  of  thanking  another,   but  as  subtle  throat  clear  silences  a  distant  relative  from  rambling  about  wedding  favours,   a  deep  relief  washes  over  from  within,   suddenly  making  their  interrupter  a  much - desired  saviour  even  if  that  wasn’t  their  intention.   Opportunity  is  grasped  in  an  instant  as  Marcus  swallows  down  what  would’ve  been  their  usual  expected  sarcasm,   the  longing  to  escape  far  outweighing  their  distaste  at  being  mistaken  for  someone  who  likes  to  offer  distractions.           ‘     I  do  and  I  would  be  more  than  happy  to  show  you.   It’s  much  easier  than  explaining.     ’           Apologies  are  swiftly  made  to  the  aunt  who’s  name  is  just  as  lost  to  them  as  this  stranger’s.   Such  a  good  boy,   she  insists,   helping  a  friend  in  need,   and  uncharacteristic  smile  stays  on  Marcus’  features  the  entire  time.   Steps  are  taken,  signalling  with  a  nod  for  the  lost  guest  to  follow  him.   He  waits  until  their  a  suitable  distance  before  speaking  again.           ‘     I  don’t  know  who  you  are,   mate,   but  you’ve  just  spared  me  an  hour  of  discussing  the  best  colour  schemes  for  weddings.   Consider  me  forever  in  your  debt.     ’ 

merlin.  he  immediately  regrets  whatever  he’s  stumbled  in  on,  here,  but  doesn’t  know  how  to  extract  himself  now  it’s  already  beyond  the  opening  moment  ;  his  thoughts  whir,  but  he  doesn’t  come  up  with  anything  good  enough  to  maybe  work  in  the  time  that  it  takes  marcus  to  say  their  goodbyes  and  make  a  very  swift  exit,  and  by  that  moment,  henry  has  realised  he  would  be  fool  to  stay  stood  there  in  their  absence.  he  rushes  to  follow  his  one  possible  -  hopeful  -  salvation  with  the  masklike  smile  that  makes  that  even  less  a  desirable  thing  to  do  than  it  started  as,  taking  no  offense  to  the  mystery  of  his  being,  given  that  they’re  just  as  much  a  stranger.  out  loud,  a  very  baffled,  “  sounds  rough,  bud.  we  can  call  it  even  if  you  steer  me  the  right  way,  here  ;  i’ve  got  a  date  to  get  back  to,  which  you,  uh...  ”  wedding,  huh  ?  it  seems  a  logical  jump,  to  him,  to  add,  “ well,  it  seems  mutual.  ”

[blvdgers]

dolors​:

❛          i     wish     i     could     help,     but     i’m     just     as     lost.          ❜          their     answering     smile     is     𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚜𝚑,     apologetic          /          not     like     they’d     intended     to     wander     so     far     from     the     atrium,     but     it’s     SINGULARLY     easy     to     lose     themselves     in     half     -     chased     thought          &          simply     drift     away     from     the     rest     of     the     evening.     quiet     corner     had     come     as     sweet     solace     when     champagne     had     started     to     give     them     the     first     inklings     of     a     headache,     but     it     had     only     grown     when     they’d     tried     to     retrace     their     steps          &          found     themselves     𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘     bewildered.     henry     appears     much     the     same,          &          there’s     strange     respite     in     that          :          they’re     not     the     only     one     desperately     baffled     by     the     ministry’s     labyrinthine     layout          !               ❛          do     you     reckon     it’d     KILL     them     to     whack     a     couple     signs     about          ?          ❜

“  shoot,  ”  he  says,  emphatically,  completely  forgiving  of  astoria  being  in  much  the  same  boat  but  at  a  complete  loss  for  how  he  should  proceed,  now.  he’s  never  really  spent  any  time  at  the  ministry,  before.  never  had  any  reason  in  recent  years,  and  can  count  on  one  hand  the  number  of  times  he  had  been  dragged  along  by  one  of  his  parents  in  his  youth  only  to  be  left  to  sit  &  wait  outside  of  an  office,  kicking  his  little  feet  in  the  air.  everything  looked  different  when  he  was  half  the  size,  and  henry  honestly  cannot  recall  if  he’s  anywhere  close  to  those  specific  areas,  probably  much  changed  since  he  last  saw  them,  so  he  can’t  really  offer  much  to  this  dilemma.  “  can’t  you...  ”  he  makes  some  inexplicable  motion  with  his  hands,  like  he’s  trying  to  say  something  but  isn’t  really  aware  of  what.  magic  seems  to  be  the  solution  for  everything  beyond  these  walls,  and  he  has  to  wonder  if  the  other  has  a  spell  up  their  sleeve  that  might  just  get  them  out  of  this  brewing  mess,  “  or  is  that...  not...  possible...  ”

[blvdgers]

qviddiitch​:

oliver hadn’t bothered to listen to any of the presentations - having assumed they wouldn’t be any different than those the year prior, not that he’d paid much attention. instead he’d spent his time exploring - though, he’d yet to discover anything exciting, he hadn’t yet given up hope. he was thrilled to run into a familiar face, a wide smile appearing across his face as he approached henry. “i could do that,” he started, his voice trailing off, “or we could do some exploring. i hear the third floor has pictures of various magical catastrophes.”

“oh, man...” henry frowns, at the very least having the good sense to look genuinely regretful about what he has to do, here, even though he’s glad for the excuse, “i’d love to, but i’m only here to be grace moody’s buff date. my sister’ll kill me if i leave her best friend stranded.”

[blvdgers]

chacswins​:

Kaz got too bored with the presentations and barely polite small talk. He quickly realized he’d rather stick his head in the barely edible hors d'oeuvres plates than stay around much longer. Leaving outright would’ve been too easy, but not remarkable. It’s not like anyone sharing his surname was looking around for him, anyway. Instead, he opts for wandering around the building as a method of entertainment until he finds someone so clearly lost. “You’ve made it quite far in the opposite direction of it.” He points out with a raised eyebrow, but he motions for him to follow all the same. “Come on, I’ll walk you back. It’s a bit of a maze to try to give the directions.”

“well, i’m a man of many talents,” he jokes, weakly, finding it hard to hit the right balance between good humour and easy charm when he felt so thoroughly out of his depth. it’s all fun & games until his shortcomings ( that’s all they are, really ; it’s the kindest way to put it ) rear their head, once more, and henry suspects this would have been easier with a wand of his own and a head full of directional spells. “’wish there was a map or something,” he laments, falling into step beside the other, “’seems like an oversight not to have one.”

[blvdgers]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  the ministry of magic ( undecided level ), london  !

if the ministry gala is teaching him anything, it’s that even if he had been born with magic, he never would have been cut out for ministry work. the various presentations that he’s listened in on are interesting enough ( sometimes in a way where he can tell that no one else in the room is as invested as he is, which is impressive, because even when he’s hanging onto every word, a large majority fly right over his head ), and he can appreciate the importance of it all, but... well, he’s never had to find his way out of such a maze, before. he walks past the same potted plant at least three times before he finally gives up - retracing his steps until he finds the closest occupied space to hover awkwardly in the doorway of, clearing his throat to draw their attention. “’sorry-” for interrupting, for being a bother... it was a blanket apology, said more to be polite than anything, “do you happen to know how to get back to the atrium, from here? i think i got a bit turned around.”

[blvdgers]

dolors​:

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽     &     𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴          :          st.     mungos     ,     a     few     hours     after     the     attack     . 𝙵𝙾𝚁          :          henry     fortescue          (          @blvdgers​          )          . 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚂          :          closed     .

all     in     all     ,     she’s     been     remarkably     docile          ;          paramount     hysteria     replaced     by     a     vacuity     behind     her     eyes     ,     like     the     effort     of     screaming     herself     hoarse     had     taken     every     ounce     of     that     𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜     personality     with     it     .     cross     -     legged     on     her     assigned     hospital     bed     ,     eyes     cast     downwards     ,     not     a     muscle     twitches     .          (          almost     like     she’s     waiting          ──          the     fact     that     she’d     managed     to     swallow     her     terror     ,     give     them     his     details     ,     is     nothing     short     of     a     MIRACLE     .          )          approaching     footsteps          &          the     preternatural     sense     of     being     watched     are     the     only     things     that     prompt     mattie     to     drag     idle     ,     dark     eyes     upward     .     when     they     meet     a     blessedly     familiar     countenance     ,     they     swim     with     a     fresh     batch     of     tears     .          ❛          henry          .     .     .          ❜          it’s     all     she     can     get     out     ,     all     she     𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒔     to          ──          the     elder     fortescue     hardly     has     time     to     hear     her     single     word     before     she’s     leaping     up     ,     seeking     out     the     only     comfort     she     can     think     of     .     the     world     can     CRUMBLE     down     around     them          (          &          hasn’t     it     before          ?          )          but     all     she     wants     ,     all     she     craves     ,     is     a     bone     -     crushing     hug     .

it’s  been  a  long  time  since  henry  has  felt  envious  of  the  wix  around  him.  then  again,  it’s  been  a  while  since  the  shortcomings  of  his  nature  have  been  thrown  so  wildly  into  focus.  chaos  unfolded  before  their  very  eyes  &  people  all  around  him  pulled  out  their  wands  for  a  sense  of  security  and  used  the  innate  power  he  lacked  to  apparate  away  to  safety  or  into  the  fray  to  help,  all  while  he  aimlessly  stood  by.   when  the  dust  settled  and  he  was  able  to  run  across  the  grass  and  into  the  circle,  henry  was  overwhelmed  by  what  he’d  found.  only  by  the  grace  of  some  higher  being  had  meera  found  him  wandering  in  search  of  any  of  the  fortescue’s  and  apparated  him  to  st  mungo’s,  and  he  didn’t  even  have  it  in  himself  to  feel  lesser,  at  her  side.  all  he  wants  is  to  know  his  family  are  SAFE,  and  all  he  knows  is  that  one  of  them  is  here  -  he  follows  the  directions  given  by  one  of  the  frazzled  welcome  wix  and  bursts  into  mattie’s  room  ready  for  action,  ready  for  anything,  ready  to  fight  her  already  gone  &  horribly  imagined  assailants  or  whisk  her  away  from  harm  or,  or,  or...  soothe  her  worries,  when  she  tumbles  into  his  arms.  his  whole  body  hums  with  delayed  energy  that  he  has  no  place  to  put  &  henry  is  hyperaware  of  his  own  failings  &  the  fact  that  he  has  let  her  down  by  being  too  slow  and  too  himself,  but  he  tucks  her  head  beneath  his  chin  &  rubs  small  circles  into  her  back,  doing  his  best  not  to  let  this  upset  show.  “  you’re  alright.  i’ve  got  you,  ”  he  murmurs,  like  a  mantra,  like  a  promise  he  can’t  keep,  “  you’re  safe.  you’re  alright.  nothing’s  gonna  hurt  you.  i  won’t  let  it.  ”

[blvdgers]

lmortem​:

The vampire can sense the way the wix recoils, which only makes Lorcan grin wider, a residue of red ringing their lips. It is a reminder that while their species can walk along side the human, there is still prejudice lingering in every dark ( and light ) corner. Lorcan is used to it, or so they’d like to think, having had over centuries of experience. They drop their extended hand and, in extension, the extended candy bag away from the wix, “Suit yourself,” Lorcan tuts, stowing away the candy in their interior jacket pocket. Perhaps they’ll give it to their familiar, Sophie. She might enjoy. “That is very sweet of you. She must appreciate you greatly, my dear, having such a generous and lovely brother.”

even unawares to the layers and complexities attached to what had been, to him, a simple refusal, henry feels a sharp stab of remorse. not enough to backtrack, or to wish he could - there was something so unappealing about the blood pop that he simply couldn’t surmount - but certainly enough to make him self conscious, moving forward, overly aware of having chosen what proved to be the wrong dialogue option. “i play quidditch,” he elaborates, lamely, “i don’t really eat this stuff anyways.” cockroach clusters, jelly slugs and bertie botts, oh my - he had never found the taste for them. unfortunately, henry’s also not very good at taking that brand of compliment, shifting his weight from foot to foot awkwardly and coming off both flattered and embarrassed in equal measure, “do you have siblings?... they don’t usually think that way.” 

[blvdgers]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  the ministry of magic ( atrium level ), london  ! 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶  :  @graciieux​  !

“so, i don’t really know my champagnes-” he admits, sheepishly, doing his level best to keep the four flutes ( two to each hand ) that he has chosen to take back to their table in one trip entirely steady. he’s amazed that he’s made it back at all given just how many times the soles of his new shoes scuffed along the marble floor of the atrium and threatened to trip him, and he’s weirdly chuffed about how little of the various drinks he’s left behind him. a few drops here & there surely won’t hurt anybody ( he hopes, at least, and he’s choosing not to glance behind him ), and he has four almost completely full glasses to set down before gracie, proudly. “i didn’t know which you’d rather. there’s dom pérignon, moët and chandon, mercier-” he taps each glass as he parrots back the unfamiliar names, eyebrows knitting together as he realises he’s gone wrong, “or maybe... this one is mercier, and that one is the ruinart... ? i’m actually-... not so sure anymore. shit. i’m sorry, grace.” 

[blvdgers]

lmortem​:

LOCATION: sugarplums  STATUS: open @startertms

“Care for a sweet, my dear?” Lorcan asks, leaning over the person’s shoulder, a bag of assorted candy in their outstretched hand. A long finger extracts the lollipop from their mouth by the stick that pokes out from between their lips, their tongue and teeth stained red. “I came for a few blood-pops and the lovely staff gave me this,” They gesture toward the goodie bag, “Unfortunately for me, I don’t have the stomach for it. You can have it, if you like.”

he wouldn’t call himself the squeamish sort, but he couldn’t deny the unpleasant flop that his stomach did, when lorcan pulled the blood pop out of their mouth. it surely couldn’t be real blood - that’s what he was telling himself, anyway, to mild success - but it didn’t put his mind entirely at ease about the offered bag of sweets. “no, thank you,” feels weak as a refusal, so henry does the only thing he can THINK of and pats his stomach, heartily, “big breakfast. m'only here to buy something nice for my sister.” 

[blvdgers]

dolors​:

it’s     a     vice     he’s     never     learned     to     give     up     ,     indulgent     wix     brands     foregone     in     favour     of     benson          &     hedges          ;          whether     he     smokes     because     there’s     comfort     found     in     the     taste     of     tobacoo     ,     or     whether     it’s     just     something     to     keep     RESTLESS     hands     busy     ,     is     anyone’s     guess     .     he     won’t     knock     back     a     𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚢     offer     ,     though          !          ❛          cheers     ,     mate     .          ❜          his     own     INHALE     is     similarly     stilted     ,     not     fractured     by     coughs     the     way     henry’s     is     but     fidgety     ,     in     its     own     way     .          ❛          christ     ,          ❜          comes     a     feeble     grouse     almost     lost     to     the     fog     of     sweetened     smoke     ,          ❛          they’re     punchy     .          ❜

“  that’s  putting  it  mildly,  ”  he  chuckles,  shaking  his  head  in disbelief  that  such  a  brand  could  ever  sell  well,  even  though  the  derby  itself  was  proof  that  it  absolutely  did.  everywhere  that  henry  looked  there  was  someone  who  absolutely  didn’t  smoke  cigars  on  a  regular  basis  indulging  in  a  raceday  treat,  which  was  HALF  the  reason  he’d  decided  to  join  in  -  unfamiliar  with  what  the  day  entailed,  he’d  been  worried  he’d  stick  out  like  a  sore  thumb  or  miss  out  on  some  unspoken  rite  of  passage  if  he  said  no  when  the  four  pack  was  offered  to  him.  obviously,  that  wasn’t  the  case.  “  ‘not  sure  what’s  giving  them  that  extra  hit,  ”  he  pauses,  briefly,  considering  what  he’s  just  said  before  he  adds,  “  ‘not  sure  i  want  to.  ”

[blvdgers]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  the grandstand, tutshill racecourse  ! 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶  :  @hoggleswart​ ( millicent bulstrode )  !

he  knows  he  can’t  hide  even  before  he  makes  an  attempt  to  do  just  that.  his  fortescue  coworkers  are  on  their  break  (  and  enjoying  the  event  they’ve  scored  tier  two  tickets  for  without  having  to  spend  a  PENNY  )  and  there  isn’t  anybody  left  to  mind  the  van  when  he  spots  millicent  bulstrode  in  the  crowd,  so  his  DUCK  beneath  the  counter  is  all  for  absolutely  nothing.  when  the  annoying  little  bell  that  sits  on  the  counter  dings,  he  has  no  choice  but  to  rise  back  up  into  the  frame  of  the  truck  window,  trying  to  look  less  sheepish  than  he  feels.  “  millicent,  ”  he  greets,  his  overall  demeanor  too  cheery  to  sell  the  story  that  he’ll  run  with,  if  pressed  (  oh,  i  was  only  trying  to  clean  up  these  plastic  spoons  i  dropped,  of  course  ),  “  hi.  what  can  i  do  for  you  ?  ”

[blvdgers]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  the grandstand, tutshill racecourse  ! 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶  :  @dolors​  !

"  blimey-  ”  he  manages  to  get  out  in  between  a  hearty  cough,  the  cigar  that  he  took  an  incautious  puff  of  immediately  held  as  far  away  from  his  person  like  that’ll  do  him  any  good.  henry  has  smoked  before,  even  if  he  never  made  a  habit  of  it.  he  knows  what  tobacco  tastes  like  &  that’s  absolutely  nothing  compared  to  the  acrid  smack  of  the  unfamiliar  wix  brand  that  he  only  now  realises  probably  wasn’t  made  for  him.  it  takes  another  long  minute  of  spluttering  to  clear  his  lungs  (  first  clean  inhale  of  breath  accompanied  with  a  “  can’t  be  having  that,  now-  ”  ),  and  then,  sheepishly,  he  offers  the  rest  of  the  four  pack  to  his  nearest  neighbour  with  a  simple,  “  they’re  too  strong  for  me,  mate.  ”