Mieux

And you know what he taught me? That if flowers can grow through blankets of melting snow, there is hope for me.

[crxclo-blog]

☽ The choirs in his head sing...

No.

Because in that very moment, he knew that company did not fall under his favor—even asking his friends to accompany him was not ideal. Similar to a boggart, they say? That alone concludes it for Clotarie. Since his boggart, in the most simplified terms, is himself, what awaits him in the fog must be exactly that, if not worse. He calls this dreadful being “Tarie,” his stronger and more ruthless half. Fear strives where the ones dearest to him will witness this persona. So he strides alone... just this once... even though it wasn’t his cup of tea, for a cup a tea.

Earlier, a plan was assembled to simply run through the fog. Yes—this would be of the appropriate techniques to survive this task (in order to leave it without crippled emotions, that is). He does hope others will consider this method as well, and if all fails, perhaps the brew of tea will soothe them quickly after.

Thick condensations capture him in the kindest embrace, and the acknowledgement of the actual cave easily disintegrates. In that moment, it became clear to him why the option to run loss its assurance. You couldn’t see a thing. Righteous judgement encourages one to move forward, but by the next second, you’re questioning if forward was actually backwards. Chilly he felt; the moisture hit a blockade of attire but managed with the welcoming revelations of his flesh; it overwhelms his eyes, becoming excessive to the sensitive barrier behind his lashes. He squints through the opaqueness, and step by step he feels as though it comforts him. This cave possessed a goal, one that won’t allow Clotarie to feel alone. That goal was so viciously achieved because when the muscles around his eyes began to relax—when the vision insisted its priority, he sees something all too familiar.

No mirror, no faux as it instigated a conversation.

“Clotarie...” its mirrored features and attire are a milky drift towards Clotarie’s anterior; his eyes stretch only to then narrow from the approach, “It has been a while, yes? Oh! Oh no!” This figure floats around the male like a predator tormenting their meat. “Your friends... have they left you again? Where are they? Have they vanished from you again?”

The fog swims back to Clotarie with a morbid smile built for tantalization. “What are you going to do when they leave you? Chase? But they will be terrified of you, Clotarie! They do not want you.” These words shackles his perception in a malevolent harmony that seems so addictive to hear. So he stays locked in his place.

“Desperate!"

It was so bitter, it became sweet to the melancholy he once felt long ago.

“Lonely!”

He should dance to this beautiful song because... sometimes, chaos felt much more comfortable... simple... easy.

His eyes close.

“Weak!”

All the choirs in his head said yes, so he lifts his hands into the air. Bit by bit, the fog seeps into the welcoming spaces between his fingers. Oh how he seems to accept the engulfment of this persona, but a different song plays his head. So perhaps a counteraction rejoices to what he has been sustaining off of. All the choirs in his head say no. 

“Undesirably Clotarie Duval—”

One motion has Clotarie clawing through the fog with hands he once lifted. Silence is brought to the monster that approached him, becoming a significant mix in the air. This Clotarie, you see, is old gum to him, and with his sight achieving clarity, his intentions strengthen as the path brightens.

His feet rush out the cave, and yes, after some time, the targeted flowers enter his line of sight. A quick snatch from the ground will be enough, but what a gorgeous flower it was. A flower is a flower, so he shall definitely obtain more in his other hand... for Jonathan, of course. His bundles were ready when he casts his gaze back at the cave. Cool air fills the lungs of a runner.

For one more time, let’s do this.

[apgujeon]

[crxclo-blog]

☽ Dungeons and Dragons

@crklaus, @crjon, @crxcole, @crxliam

Calculations were made beforehand, and I’m the end, the only way he or any other cabin member could get harmed is if someone decided to act impulsively. Without doubt, Clotarie would secretly side eye the certain Gryffindor who respectively latched to his group. No worries, he figured, as long as he shackled the first initiative before any his group mates could. With that, he will be able to flee the site and search for scales all on his own. Here, the males stood, bewildered and/or enchanted by the beautiful creature before them. The opaleye dragon would undoubtedly leave a special impression on the Slytherin as its scales inflicted twinkles upon his hazel irises. Every movement, every twitch of its body made his eyes flick over in the direction, as if acknowledgement was mandatory—as if missing a second of the dragon was a shame. 

He paces slowly... carefully around the large nest, noting down the circumference in meters when the measuring tape he had previously set out on the ground. When finished, he summons the tape back into his pocket and stands upright again. Finally, hazel eyes meet multi-colored ones, and in that moment a lovely shrill went down his spine, ordering him to fall into a fluid bow. He complies to the extrinsic force, of course, insidiously, with a hand placed on his abdomen, and without letting his head follow suit just yet. Only seconds later does his head drop down accordingly; through that, the dragon ought to have known that the wizard was captivated by its eyes. But respect must come first. When the respect was rightfully earned, the indications led Clotarie to straighten his back. There, he motions for his group mates to go next, and hopefully, after his example, their attempts will go just as, if not, more smoothly. 

[coruscorp-blog]

RELATIONSHIP BUILDING

Send ⭐️ (or multiple) for a headcanon about our muses. Send ☎ for your muse’s info in my muses phone (name, ringtone, picture, last text received/sent). Send 🎼 for a song that reminds me of our muses. Send 👋 for three things that describe our muses relationship. Send 👂 to overhear my muse talking about yours. Send 👤+ a muse name for my muse’s opinion on that muse (with the other muse/mun’s permission). Send 😍 for my muse to tell yours three things they love about them. Send 💤 for my muse to say something about yours in their sleep. Send 📖 for my muse to read out an entry in their journal/diary about yours. Send ✉ for a written letter from my muse. Send📱for a voicemail my muse left yours. Send 🌀 for my muse’s reaction to getting stuck in a storm with yours. Send 🍺 for my muses drunk reaction around yours. Send 💰 for your muse to ask mine for money. Send ✔️ for a daydream my muse has had about/involving yours. Send 👀 for my muse to compliment yours Send 💋 for how my muse would seduce/flirt with yours. Send  👏 and what your muse will do to fluster mine. Send 😙 for my muse’s reaction to yours being super affectionate. Send 🍵 and my muse will reveal one of their biggest regrets involving yours. Send 😶 and my muse will confess to something they wish they didn’t do that affected your muse.

[crxclo-blog]

☽ “I love a good chase.”

@crjon

Memorandums of the previous months have been nothing cheeky mockery to the Slytherin lately, and they, for the most part, consisted of the remarkable times he and Jonathan hunted for each other’s tails in an all but stern manner. The instigation was a light notion—one with nostalgic exchanges that brings the two to leave their cabin that very night. The hands closest to each other were adhered while the lateral ones contained respective wands. Two pairs of eyes, however, focus on the vastness before them, a seemingly endless green that they will soon be engulfed in. “Are you ready?” springs from Clotarie’s lips, where its airiness conveys contained enthusiasm. Former to a response does his head turn towards the lad. Enchanted, he accepts his last view of Jonathan under this sublime sunlight, for things ought to be a little different under the trees’ canopies. The next several seconds are manipulated by the wizards’ twisted transportation. What was once an empty patch of grass is now occupied by two pairs of feet. One creates brisk crunches within the leafy terrain as it shifts to stand in front of other. “I do recall who was last one the run,’” he begins, having yet to release his beloved’s hand, “It was you, no? Now, it may be unfair, but… allow me to seek you again?” Their network of fingers squeeze from Clotarie’s jovial pressures; his eyes bear a glistening excitement. The ears that once experienced effervescent laughter from the chase wished for its urgent return. He initiates a light brush of their forearms, o that his attire (the printed “zapzap” shirt he previously stole from Jonathan), can receive more attention. “You will be more gentle with me, won’t you?” Their binded hands release on his own call so that the backs of those sleeved hands rise up to his face to block his smiling eyes. What was hide and seek without counting with your eyes closed. “You once said it was an expensive shirt, after all.”

[crxclo-blog]

🤧 –– Do you get sick often? Are you one of those people who get sick but power through it, or do you complain the entire time and not move from the sofa?

EMOJI HEADCANONS - ACCEPTING ☽

Anemia has always been a protruding component to Clotarie’s immune system. After having his body adapt to this condition through age, he had grown far away from compromising state. Though of course, there are some time when the temperature drops too low, hitting his limit of protection. Never does he complain, only bundling himself up so that lesser people will suffer after him. He prefers to heal on his one and with no remedies, for he believes that his body toughen with that process. However, he won’t deny help if offered.

[crxclo-blog]

👩‍👩‍👧‍👦 –– What kind of family did you grow up in? Two-parent, single-parent, raised by someone else? How many siblings do you have? Did you have any other type of family in your house all the time?

EMOJI HEADCANONS - ACCEPTING ☽

The plan was for Clotarie to grow up with two, loving parents. If it weren’t for a horrendous event, resulting his parents to pass away, he would have ended up with one or two more siblings. Alas, he is an only child to this day. A half-blood godfather, Penzel, reluctantly supported him throughout the majority of his childhood. Frustrated and hateful, Penzel abandoned the young wizard at the age of five, forcing him to live in a foster home until the godfather’s guilt became unbearable. He brought Clotarie back home at age eight, but this shame-induced action wasn’t enough to mend their relationship right away.

[crxclo-blog]

🌂 –– How do you feel about rain? Do you immediately run for cover or are you okay getting wet while out in it?

EMOJI HEADCANONS - ACCEPTING ☽

He didn’t leave his umbrella behind on accident. Having his skin pelted by an insufferably wet source comes across as an odd pleasure to the man. Whether he considers the sky’s gift or its very own emotional discharge, a part of him finds it rude to block it with a protective hover. Memories bind with these falling droplets as well, enchanting the heart that was already so fond of them. But as his preservative self would, Clotarie knows his limits under the rain. Hypothermia is something he is so-very susceptible to; therefore, he will leave the sky’s tears unhappily—though, not forlornly. He knows the rain will soon return again.

[coruscorp-blog]

EMOJI HEADCANONS

🤬  –– Do you curse a lot? How often? What are some of your favorite swear words? 😳  –– Do you get embarrassed easily? What would you consider your ‘breaking point’ of embarrassment? 🤫  –– Are you able to keep a secret? We all know everyone has a person they tell everything to, other people’s secrets included: who’s that person for you? 🤥  –– How often do you lie? Do you lie to make people feel better? 😴  –– How much sleep do you tend to get every night? How much sleep do you need to function properly? 🤧  –– Do you get sick often? Are you one of those people who get sick but power through it, or do you complain the entire time and not move from the sofa? 👽  –– Do you believe in aliens? Do you believe there could be life on other planets, no matter how small? 🎃  –– What was your first Halloween costume that you can remember? How old were you when you stopped trick or treating? 💍  –– Do you want to get married someday? If you are married, did your wedding go as you imagined it would? 💇‍♀️  –– What’s the most drastic thing you ever did to your hair? What were the reasons behind it ( drunk, getting over a break-up, a dare, etc )? 🤞  –– Do you believe in luck? Do you believe in the usual lucky things ( four-leaf clovers, horseshoes, rabbit foot, etc )? Do you have any unusual things you think bring you luck ( a shirt, hat, book, number )? 👮‍♀️  –– Have you ever had a brush with the law? What had you done, and did you get caught? What were the consequences? 👩‍👩‍👧‍👦  –– What kind of family did you grow up in? Two-parent, single-parent, raised by someone else? How many siblings do you have? Did you have any other type of family in your house all the time? 👙  –– What sorts of things do you do when you go to the beach, or what would you do if you’ve never been to one before? 🌂  –– How do you feel about rain? Do you immediately run for cover or are you okay getting wet while out in it? 👓  –– Do you wear glasses or contacts? How long have you had to, if you do?

[crxclo-blog]

Ohoho I’m back from my hiatus 😰 I’ll catch up on replies and dm’s soon, I promise !!

[crshiro]

* prohibited.

@crxclo replied to this for a starter. timeline: set before event.

     THE SEASON’S COME TO AN END,  and frankly, it’s put him into a little mood as exam season rolls in. the melancholic feeling he’s become accustomed to twists uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach as he stares out the window towards the pitch with a silent sigh. his feet itch when he’s on the ground for too long, a desire to feel the air whoosh in his face as he glides amongst the clouds, a competitive high resting in his lungs. 

          a pity it ever ends.

     EVEN SO,  he’s proud of the team and how far they’ve all come. which is why, when he sees the younger slytherin before him in the halls, he quickly closes the space with a few long strides, before bumping shoulders with the other lightly as an announcement of his arrival. “slacking off is prohibited in our off time, duval,” he states casually, with a large smile stretching across his face. “you did well this season, and i expect you to keep it up in the summer.” 

          there’s a pause, and the struggle is distinctive upon his features as he conjures up the right words to say, the right motivation. he likes to think he’s been a good captain; the right amount of strict and motivating, although even he’d concede sometimes the desire to win can overwhelm his senses and the nice guy routine he tries to keep going for appearances’ sake. “hope to see you on the team next year, kid.”

[crxclo-blog]

Exams—right. This time of the year confirms a certain snake’s consistent expression. Displeasure weighs his features down. From the crease between his eyebrows, to the tantalizing sourness in his hazel eyes, one could not be blamed to mistaken this demeanor as a hazard. Those dearest to him will see through this ominous layer of him; after all, the male possessed a tendency to alter himself accordingly to each of his friends.

The interruption to his stride has sharp irises darting over to the source. At the first second, they rain with irritation; but upon identification, these silent emissions vanish so that the look of neutrality returns to him. Lightheartedness—it brings the younger Slytherin to relax, and a firm nod will be his first line of response. “As did you, Shiro. Thank you ... you will most definitely see me trying out for the next year, yes.” His sight redirects to regard the space in front of them, and their promenade down the corridor proceeds. “Slacking? Impossible when a flight will be an option for a break from studies,” his hands fold behind his back, “Now, have you ever read some text while flying upon your broom, Shiro? I find it quite the assistance to my focus. Have a try, mm?”

[crxclo-blog]

crjon:

School nearing an end put the Hufflepuff in a daze. His mind buzzed with information, and he swore definitions and incantations would flow from his ears from how full he stuffed it. It appeared to slow even his physical reactions. He followed after Clotarie, hands reaching for his stolen bag until the other disappeared inside it. Such were the woes of having a sanctuary in a charmed bag. Newt Scamander, himself ( or, well, his portrait ), taught him well enough to face its consequences.

“Clotarie, what in Merlin’s name are you doing… Do you not plan to study? There’s exams soon!” The scolding was half-hearted, nonetheless, but he persisted enough to follow him down, nearly slipping off a rung of the roughly constructed ladder.

Truth be told that he was more than aware of his dire need to study. Like the majority, a mutual stress ought to embrace a vast portion of their minds. Clotarie will be one to join too sooner... or perhaps, later. There were other things to prioritize for this time being. The main one consisted of the delightful time he can spend with a certain Hufflepuff before the next day arrives to pest the two.

Upon his (rather scolding) arrival, the Slytherin will be standing right in by the latter. The provided space will be just enough for feet to plant safely, but once they do, Clotarie rushes over to the other male and pulls up his own robe’s hood. Caramel locks ruffles from the adjustment while only the black cloth only partially blocks his eyes. “Have not a worry, I do. We can study. We. Can study, yes?”

His feet do not move as they lack the very need to in order to close some distance in between their faces. The once straight stature is slanted, all so that his accumulated goofiness can be seen prodding out from his enclosed visage. “But oh, oh no, Jon. I cannot locate my textbooks.” He begins to swing his head in a slight, circular motion. “It’s much too dark in here!” Jonathan’s sanctuary was fully lit.

[crxclo-blog]

"Hey, do you think you'll want to be team captain one day?" His arms are crossed behind his head, as Cyrus stretched before stifling a yawn. "Do you think you'll stay on the team until 4th upper year? Truth be told, I know I'm coming back to Hogwarts next year, I just don't know if I'm actually.. going to stay on the team. You know? Need to focus and stuff."

“Team captain…” he repeats amid to touching his toes, “Perhaps one day, yes. When I’m eligible.” The appropriate seconds will pass before he is upright once again, but even when what he is warned of does not appeal to him, the slightest empathy shall cling to his response. “I believe you can balance the two if you truly want to.” A swift turn of his head has him aligns his orbs to Cyrus’ face; the tip of his toes dig into the turf, allowing his ankle twirl in a stretch. “You are fully capable, but what matters is… do you believe the same?”

[crnate-deactivated20220515]

CURIOUS.

[crxclo-blog]

crnate:

There is something commendable about someone who elects to mind their own business. At least in Nathaniel’s opinion. He never considered himself to be anything of the sort. The tip of his nose might as well be shaded brown with the amount of digging he’s done for his newspaper alone. It’s often he wonders just when the headmaster will have enough of it and shut the whole operation down. His lurking in the hallways when he shouldn’t be is definitely one reason of many.

“OI, CLO. What the-” he collects himself, clutching his chest. “The fuck, dude… Anyway, I haven’t seen much of anything, really. Just guys in suits… Know as much as what’s published in the article.”

Disappointment inevitable upon hearing the response, especially from the man himself who, quite frankly, considered the most formal ear of news. There’s an urge to say “Are you sure?” but through the inside-out, truth was told according to the snake perception. This causes his grip on the lad’s shoulders to weaken, where his head will turn elsewhere to let hope leave his eyes.  Alas, curiosity doesn’t end there—an end lacked just as much as its pauses did. And so, effervescence is replenished to Clotarie’s visage; the returning grasp on his friend’s shoulders follows suit. “In that case,” a strong, ongoing push forward has the men continuing through the corridor, “Let us find out just what the men in black are on about, mm?”

[crcallum-deactivated20190314]

nothing worse

[crxclo-blog]

crcallum:

no matter how many times callum rolled up his sleeves, he found them slipping free and slipping into the water that he was currently digging his notes out of. a slytherin had not taken kindly to callum’s witty reply to their bullying and had proceeded his books needed a dive in the lake. there was a shiver running through his body as soon as his shoes were taken off, his robes hung up and his pockets emptied safely as he got knee deep into the water, collecting the wet pages up and digging the books out of the water. he hated most slytherins; they had their moments and specks of tolerability. he even had a friend dressed in the green and silver. but that didn’t stop a good percentage having an averse reaction to the ravenclaw. his brow furrowed as he carried the next few pages and his book of charms being the last of them to be saved. not that soaking and dripping with water was saved. slowly he dragged his feet back to the shore, ripples radiating out from his movements until he paused, staring at the other boy. a slytherin. not one from earlier, but still, the others could have laughed and told him to come poke fun at the wet ravenclaw. “if they sent you here for round two, i’m not in the mood,” he mutters, placing the charms book and few pages down with the rest of what he’d been working on. “i need to save my books before they’re ruined.”

Like for every Slytherin, the Black Lake was, quite literally, their home. With this in mind, it can only be evident that many students of the green hue would still lurk the premises even when it is not their dorms they wished to attend to. For some, the sector stands a sense of comfort while for others, it was wet terrain ominous to those outside of the house. What a narrow line it is—the divider for the two types of snakes at Hogwarts.  There is one Slytherin who wanders the edges of the lake mainly for the its fairly decent view. Large bodies of water had always been enchanting to the lad, you see. The fact that it contained secrets and discoveries beyond his imagination topped off in his fascination. So on that very day, he roams the moist grounds with his hazel orbs directed to the calm ripples. These motions, however, become more and more vigorous until his eyes have no choice but to lead up to a student in distress. Instantly do his steps cease so that his doesn’t collide into the stranger. Blue—that is the first thing he comprehends, and it is not with the correlation to Ravenclaw but that it was his favorite color. House distinguishing arrives shortly, followed up by the damaged textbooks and soaked parts of his uniform. You see, the snake was more than observant when it came to this situation. Although, his legilimency assists on understanding the situation—not entirely for empathy, but for the collection of information.  “I am not the fellow who will give you round two,” he watches the man rummage the hopeless pages through the angle of a slanted and lowered head, “But staying here longer just might bring another malevolent Slytherin your way.” With a sigh emitting from his nostrils, Clotarie obtains his wave and gives it a flick in the books’ direction. As a man prominently skilled in charm, casting the harmless hot-air charm was child’s play. It sets each and every one of the books fluttering through all their pages until all the water had spluttered away. The hardcovers will then close to meet their recovery ends.

[crxclo-blog]

☽ Hocus Pocus

[crxclo-blog]

crxevie:

- - - “we’re going there by floo powder?” evie glances at the pouch. the doubt, the reluctant on her face has already faded, replaced almost immediately with an unguarded sort of eagerness. she just wants to get her blood pumping again and it’s obvious now that her heart’s already set on going. “does it work on hogwarts grounds?”

A forward tip of his head signifies the mischief within his subtle smile. “No, Evelyn,” he assures even though the mention of cutting her in half brought him fantastic memories, “I will not have you severed this time around. What we currently have in store is exciting enough.”  He will empty his free hand all so it can capture one of Evelyn’s. A few, strong steps backwards in enough to have the two fit in the capacious vacancy within the chimney. In there contains a mutuality of enthusiasm, and as a legilimen, the man retains it quite easily. It was nice to possess and share something so temporary, yet worth the brief time. “Floo powder is it, and if it works in Hogwarts...” he frees the woman’s hand to bury him own within the traveling pouch, “...we are bound to find out right now.” The last time they used floo powder together was from a Hogsmeade chimney to one in London. Not once had the man experienced a travel departing directly from his school, but that matter did not give him fear when throwing the powder onto their feet.  “London, United Kingdom.” Green flames blasted from the bottoms of their feet, growing until the two were engulfed in them. What a pleasant trip it was since they winded up in the desired place... sort of. When Clotarie demanded the muggle area, it most certainly did give him a muggle area—it looked to be home that they were in, and the first thing he did was hope that no one was home at the time; although, just in front of them was a sleeping house dog. “Merde,” the curse in French comes out as a mere whisper, he then leaning towards his companion’s ear, “Now, the last thing we need is a pet of their’s to start barking at us.”

[crdamn]

“ i need to step away, get some fresh air.”

“You think?”, Damien replies with strong sarcasm as he wraps an arm around Clotarie and helps him walk toward the exit of the greenhouse. “Seriously, for someone who is dating a guy who loves plants so much, shouldn’t you know enough about plants to know that you don’t get close to that [plant] without preparation?” He knows he is being a bit unfair. It’s not like Jonathan and Clotarie must be spending their time together talking about herbology, but still.

The younger Slytherin had leaned too close to a flower that had decided to release a strong puff of air that smelled rotten. Damien couldn’t smell it because he had been wise enough to keep his nose pinched close, but the same couldn’t be said about Clotarie who had pretty much turned green, figuratively. Once they are outside, he leads the student toward the nearest bench and helps him sit down. He then grabs his wand and soon there’s a bottle of water flying into his hand. He hands it over to the other. “Drink.”

[crxclo-blog]

“It’s why he’s my tutor,” he defends quietly, for his hand partially covers the irritated sector of his visage, “The information never seems to stick.” Within that humiliating moment, the truth in his words are presentable. If he identified the plant that attacked him beforehand, he surely wouldn’t have allowed its horrendous emissions. Though, this unpleasant experience may have just cemented its visual identification in his brain—avoidance tends to work well with the lad, especially if it means preserving of his own self.

Despite it all, there is a lighter side to the whole situation, one of which Clotarie will not fully appreciate until he receives what is in dire need. With assistance is he seated, where only the kindest air can comfort his irritated nose. His settlement made not only his lungs but his stomach unhappy enough for him to grasp the areas. He stares ahead until the other’s offer enters his peripheral, and even the sight of the neutral drink seemed unappetizing at this time. “Mm, thank you, Damien.” Regardless, the bottle is accepted by a clammy hand, the lid being removed by the other. “Please. Do tell me just what was that plant. My memory fails me today... as it should with my inability to conquer herbology.” A sigh will emit before his beverage gets tilted and pours smoothly past puckered lips.