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@howlinroscoe-blog
albertorosendedaily:
The one thing for me that made me the most in character was when I put my glasses on. We had to pick – they gave us like 40 frames that we all looked at until we found the exact ones. I don’t know but I felt very much like Harry Potter when he gets his wand. Like, I picked up my glasses and I was like, ‘I like these.’ Everyone was like, ‘Yeah!’ I put them on and that was it. Those were the ones. - Alberto Rosende on choosing Simon’s glasses.
Her lips pursed at the use of her full name, but somehow it irritated her a bit less whenever he threw it around. Not that she’d ever let him know that if she could help it. “Yeah? Even if there is a flobberworm in my bed?” A joke, of course. She was even laughing. Okay, still laughing. So maybe it was more of a nervous giggle…fit…thing. She regained her composure before diving back into the seriousness of the matter at hand. “I will agree that he is a good player, but I am also not sure how he became Head Boy to begin with. Don’t get me wrong, he is grand and all, has that charming little smile that gets him anything he wants. But Merlin, he’ll sleep with half the team before the end of the season! We’ll be needing new players left and right. Either because of mass rage quitting or because Potter is going to beat them bloody.” Okay, so she was rambling, but Quidditch really was a rather big thing for her.
He thought on it just a moment before smiling brilliantly at the girl. “Yes,” he started, voice full of conviction, “Even if there were a godforsaken flobberworm in your bed, I would come running. Besides -” Ross stood more upright, puffing his chest out and balling his fists and raising one to his chest. “Real men aren't afraid of flobberworms!” He quirked a silly grin despite his words. Her weird little... giggle fit... thing... Just caused an amused grin to slip over his lips. How could someone be so damn cute? If he didn't have manners, he'd have straight up kissed her by now, but Ross wasn't about to screw things up. Soon enough, he'd tell himself, soon enough she'll fall for me too. Keeping eye contact, Ross listened to everything she had to say with knitted brows. So she had points – very fine points, mind you, but... “What are you suggesting?” He paused, readjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “I mean, yeah, I get what you're saying, it's just – I can't really think of anyone else more qualified for the position. Unless you wanna be captain? Not that it'd be hard to take orders from you, I just... Never would have thought you'd be interested in it.”
“Yes!” he shouted, forgetting all need for discretion. “Yes, it’s her! Man she’s obnoxious as fuck, but hey- she’s got good grades, I ain’t ‘bout to steal someone’s homework if they’re worse than me, yeah?” And ah, of course he’d laugh. To be fair, Flenn would be laughing too if his life wasn’t threatened every time he exited the Gryffindor commons. Running away from that squad the first time had been a blast, too, thanks to Nora, but now it was getting old. “A badge? I didn’t pay attention, I was way busy running, yeah? Dang, I’d apologise too, but I’m too scared to go up to them, what if they try and beat me up? They’ll aim for the face, I’m sure!” Grabbing Ross’ hands, eyes sparkling with gratitude and something too close to hysteria for comfort, puckered lips smacking with a dry sound. “You. Are. Amazing! I owe you a big fat one, amigo! Hey, do whatever you think is best, yeah? I just don’t wanna meet them on my own, they’re bloody terrifying. Y’all Hufflepuffs are the real danger in this school, it’s just nobody says it out loud.”
Ross shook his head at the younger boy, more amused than anything with him. He wasn't surprised the Gryffindor got into this short of trouble – while he'd known him for a short amount of time, this seemed very much like the sort of dilemma that Flenn Quintana would fall into. He could only holler in more laughter when Flenn suggested he would get ganged up on and attacked the next time he ran into them. Typical Gryffindor thinking – the hat was pretty wise in the sorting of this kid. “I'm telling you, mate,” he started between chuckles, “they're not going to attack you. That is just not hufflepuff nature! They'll probably just give you a stern talking to or bring you to the professor so the professor can deal with you. There are very few of us willing to fight over something silly like that.” He nodded at the younger boy, despite how hilarious it all was. Roscoe Cortez was not the type to leave someone in need, and while he found it all amusing Flenn was very much in need. “Nah, man, don't sweat it,” he replied with a shrug, “Just lemme deal with the other 'Puffs and you carry on like nothing's happening, 'kay?” He sounded rather confident, but Ross wasn't sure he could actually do much of anything for Flenn. He may have been an amiable guy, but he wasn't really the most popular Hufflepuff around. Maybe he could talk Nica into helping the kid out – surely, whether they were prefects or not, they'd listen to him. “Leave it to me, Flenster – I've got this under control.”
People hope to touch the sky. I dream of kissing it.
Krista Ritchie, Kiss the Sky (via quoted-books)
“It’s terribly serious,” answered Flenn as he stuffed his mouth with jam-covered scone, the embodiment of everything serious in this world. “Thank you man, I knew I could count on you.” Which, obviously. He wouldn’t have gone to the Hufflepuff otherwise. “I don’t know their names, just that it’s two of them, one guy one girl, and they’re friends with this Ravenclaw called Eleonore or something posh like that. As for details, erm…” There came the less heroic part. He knew he’d have to spit it out, but he’s still not very proud of himself. “So you see, maybe I tried to steal the Ravenclaw’s homework because I had forgotten to write my essay, and maybe her badger friends caught me red-handed. And I mean, fair’s fair, yeah? But they chased after me and haven’t stopped haunting me ever since! I think they’re out for blood, ese, they want my pretty little head on a stick!”
“The know it all that thinks Astronomy isn’t a legit class?” he recalled at the mention of a Ravenclaw. “I hate her.” Which was an overstatement, because Ross was not keen to hate anyone, but if you insult Astronomy you are likely to get on his bad side. This was enough for Ross to get involved - he had a hod on his fellow badgers, being a bit of a popular one around the common rooms - but he couldn’t help but laugh when the details were laid out by Flenn. Shaking in laughter, the Hufflepuff tried to keep it quiet as not to attract attention. Reaching over, he patted Flenn’s shoulder and shook his head. “I don’t think they want to hurt you. By any chance, would either of them have a prefect badge? Maybe they’re just out to dock some points? We hufflepuffs have a tendency to be pacifists - and we have a sense of justice. Maybe they just want you to apologize and just agree to do your own homework?" He shrugged, “But alright, compadre, I see your dilemma and understand your plight - I shall see what I can do to stop the. Do you want me to just talk to them or does this require more stealth and imagination?”
“You really didn’t have to run, you know? I understand the need for food, I grabbed you a croissant for that very reason. But to get right down to it, we have no captain, and this season is going to be a mess if we don’t get this worked out soon. And if Bellamy gets the spot you guys are gonna have to find a new seeker.”
“Oh Andromeda, when will you get it into your pretty little head that I will always come running if you call?” He smiled before accepting the croissant, taking a rather generous bite as the girl began to explain why she called for this little meeting. Okay, so he was a little disappointed it was Quidditch related but not as disappointed as he was at the mention of needing to find a new seeker. That wasn’t happening, no way. Frowning around his mouthful, he finished the bite before speaking up. “Why are you against Nica being captain? He’s a good player, and he’s already Head Boy - obviously he’s dependable and has strong leadership qualities.”
“Next time you get up early so that you can have proper breakfast to feed your birdbrain. We don’t have time to waste.” Lucy snapped, not ready to discuss this any further. “Come on, we can’t talk about it here.”
He frowned, but followed regardless. It wasn’t out of obligation, but more so curious. You couldn’t leave things open-ended for Ross, he was too curious for his own good and needed to know everything. “Alright your majesty,” he snorted, “Lead the way.” Shoving the last bit of his muffin into his mouth, he fell into step behind her and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Is this a serious thing or a not-so-serious thing?” he questioned with his mouthful.
“It’s fine, breakfast is important and you need like, at least three tiny pies for what I’m about to say: I think the Hufflepuffs are out to get me, and you are my bridge to this weirdo society of Flenny-hunters. Try not to react too obviously, I think they’re watching.”
“Three tiny pies?” He blinked, “So this is serious.” Pausing mid-bite, Ross listened carefully to the words that followed. Flenny was kind of a trouble maker, that much he figured, but if he pulled some bad attention from some of his fellow ‘Puffs.... Ross couldn’t imagine what would have caused it. At the prompting, he tried not to look around or anything, just nodding sternly at the kid. “You’ve come to the right place, Flenster. I can investigate and figure out what’s going on and bring a stop to it. I’m just gonna need names, and whatever details you can spare.”
When it’s Nine in the Afternoon
Reyes & Roscoe
Reyes is pretty much flabbergasted at the idea of opening admitting to being a werewolf. Especially considering how MACUSA treated people infected with lycanthropy. Usually their answer was to put the beasts down. So when he heard that his housemate, Roscoe Cortez, is openly a werewolf, Reyes needed to track him down. As soon as humanly possible. Thankfully, Reyes was glad he was fairly good at tracking shit down, because after a few days of weirdly stalking the guy, he figured out Ross likes to frequent the Astronomy Tower at night.
So, one night he decided to actually follow him, because he’s got questions about werewolves that textbooks can’t answer. Which is why he’s currently found himself watching the guy from a doorway, leaning against the stone frame. Until the cold finally gets to him and he sneezes. “Shit, okay. I know this looks bad, me just staring at the back of your head like some sort of creepy assassin stalker, but I have an explanation.” He moved to stick his hand out to his classmate, uttering, “Uh, Reyes Tordai; we’re housemates. Hopefully you don’t know that or else this is super awkward.”
“You’re a werewolf, like an honest to god, open werewolf. Like fuck.” he blurted out, and he totally isn’t ready for this. “Sorry, that was tactless. I’m just super nervous, usually I’m more snarky and annoying that this. I was wondering if you could answer, like, a lot of questions about lycanthropy. I swear, I have a reason that’s not just morbid curiosity.”
If you knew Roscoe Cortez at any degree, you were aware then that Roscoe Cortez was an astrophile. As such, it was a practical ritual for him to climb up to the astronomy tower after hours and to sit and just watch his beloved night sky. The only night this didn't happen was when the full moon occurred, which was a reminder of the other common fact about Roscoe Cortez. He was a werewolf, and open one at that, one who wasn't afraid to let people know what goes bump-in-the-full-moon-night and one who tried, on every occasion, to still be a human despite that one night. It's just one night, he would say, It doesn't count for the others. So he spent his other nights in that tower, or occasionally in the Hufflepuff commons being the class clown he sometimes was. Whatever it meant to show people he wasn't just one night every month – he was 353 days of humanity over 12 of monstrosity.
On these nights he stole away to the Astronomy Tower, he was likened more to the hopeless romantic. His first love were those giant balls of space gas up above. Scratch that, that wasn't a romantic thought... His first love were those celestial bodies of light, which dotted his night sky and kept him company and didn't judge him no matter what he was that night. Better, much better Cortez. Ross smiled to himself as he made out the constellations in the sky, recounted the names of the bright stars that made them up. This was therapeutic, this was true peace for the boy that was dealing with an incurable disease. And truth be told, Ross usually enjoyed these nights alone. Not always by choice, but because rarely did others come to enjoy the wide expanse of space above them like he had.
It was by surprise he could sense a presence behind him, but by choice he had not acknowledged them from the get go. He wasn't one to creep others out just because he had a slightly inclined sense of smell the closer it came to the dreaded night. That was, he figured, how one got to scare people. So he didn't say anything, not until there was a sneeze. Admittedly, he jolted, because perhaps he hadn't expected the other to make any sort of noise. Turning at the noise, he was about to respond when the other began speaking. Accepting the outstretched hand, he took the moment to respond, “So long as you're not here to assassinate me, I guess it can be forgiven. I'm Ross Cortez, nice to meet ya Reyes.”
He laughed, his regular loud and booming laugh, at the boy's next words, nodding his head enthusiastically and keeping a wide amused grin on his face. “Yes, an honest to god open werewolf. That would be me,” he confirmed. His eyebrows shot upwards at the next words toppling out of the boy, who fumbled nervously around his inner thoughts. Ross was luckily not an awkward person, and never bothered by the questions aimed his way. Better to educate than deal with ignorance, right? Nodding again, he patted the spot beside him on the ground. “Pop a squat, friend,” he said, “And answer away. I don't mind. Is this for a paper? Usually people ask me for help if it's for homework.”
“Okay I ran here as fast as I could. I just needed to stop at breakfast first because - c’mon, a guy’s gotta eat before anything. Now what was it you wanted to tell me?”
“You could say I should have seen it coming, but it’s bloody fucking cold here already and I completely forgot the existence of sweaters. I’ll be grateful for any hand-me-downs at this point. Good people of Hogwarts, anyone to save me from this crazy Frozen reenactment?”
“I will offer you my one jumper, the light of my life, the very air I breath and the heart of my soul, only if you actually reenact the sensational Adele Dezeem’s ‘Let It Go’ at the top of your lungs for all the world to see and admire you for. Only then will I be willing to part with my one true love, this wonderful jumper I wear, and save you from death by this merciless November weather..”
“WHA–wha– Oh, dios mio, no no no it’s ok.” Esme ramabled, still in a dazed state from her nap.
“Did any of the other books fall? Anybody get hurt?”
At the sight of Esme, a grin slid over Ross’s face, but he was quick to wipe it off and throw on an exaggerated expression of mock-pain. Grabbing at his forearm, he shuffled closer to her as if one of his legs were injured and hissed and groaned for show.
“Aye, chica, I think you broke my wrist. Ah, it hurts,” he tried to play the part of being injured but his lips were already tugging into a grin and chuckles were cutting through the words. He just couldn’t commit, which was a sign he shouldn’t pursue acting ever. Letting go of the act, he plopped down on the floor next to her and shrugged, “I think everyone’s alright. What about you? Hurt yourself?”
Life at the minuet wasn’t easy for Faith, every time she went up in the air on that broom of hers made her faint…She’d get sudden flashbacks of her dad falling. Yes, it could have been worse, he could have died but he didn’t. Still Faith struggled, he was still alive but he wasn’t the same…He was the ghost of the father he used to be and it killed Faith to see him like that. Sighing she got up from her chair and made her way out of the library. She didn’t get very far when her head started spinning, stumbling slightly she leaned a hand on the wall as her books fell to the floor “Shit!” she bent down to pick up her books, there were so many of them she hadn’t a clue how she’d been managing to carry them all in the first place “just my luck right?” She laughed to herself.
Libraries were a gateway to hell, this was quite obvious. Any time Roscoe wandered into them, there was nothing good to be had. There was danger in those bookcases, fear among the pages. Literally - the biggest con to going to a magical school was some of the books actually bit you. He was pretty sure kids had to go to St. Mungo’s to get limbs reattached because of aggressive literature. That being said, he hardly ever crossed the threshold into that nightmare of a place, needing to be welcomed in like a vampire but also feeling repelled by the horror that lay within. So being there was already weird, and adding to his discomfort as he searched for the perfect study book for Herbology - wishing he’d gone the tutor path instead - he’d been greeted by a girl stumbling and dropping her things. The blasted library in all its evil struck again. Frowning, he quickly got down to help retrieve her things. “Don’t worry, this place is a bad omen, these things happen here all the time. I’m convinced it’s cursed,” he laughed, quickly helping her get her things. “Are you okay?”
“I finally finished my homework. What do you people do for fun around here?”
“In short, mostly stupid things,” he replied, flopping into the seat across from her. “I think I saw some guy run into the lake earlier, that just shows you not to trust Hogwartsians with ‘fun passtimes’. Hogsmeade is a great way to kill time, though - if you can get pass all the professors and mentors and sneak your way over to the village. Otherwise, I hear staring at the wall is pretty enjoyable.”
“Because I’m not a fucking princess. I can handle myself,” Gwen snapped at the person in front of her, folding her arms across her chest angrily. She normally didn’t get upset at things like this, but she hated feeling patronized.
He threw his hands up in a defensive stance, eyebrows raised and the fear of God growing ever present in his dark eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbled, “I assure you that I am fully aware of your capabilities and take you very seriously and am fully aware that you are not a princess... Though you’ve got the hair and live in a tower, so the comparison to Rapunzel isn’t a stretch... But you are not and I apologize, I just thought you’d want help carrying those books and scrolls. I didn’t mean to demean you. I am also just very scared of you right now so whatever it takes to placate you I’ll do.”
