( TECHNICOLOR )

Jules || Twenty || ENFJ “My earbuds were in, but I wasn’t playing music. I needed to hear the world but didn’t want the world to know I was listening.”

[dreadwvlfrps]

to write sonnets.

To frequent abandoned buildings was to entertain the long-deceased and their ghosts. And that was just how Augusta liked to spend her time. Four walls were not so claustrophobic when the plaster smelt of memories and the pipe organ in the middle had been unlocked due to disuse. But she still used it; sometimes frightened the life right out of the passersby through the halls right outside of the vacant auditorium. No one liked going into such architectural playgrounds - after all, these plastered-garments were haunted. 

Then let her haunt with them. She needed a quiet place to practise, and so she had found it. If the place could not find her, then she w a n d e r e d until it was there before her. 

“Over hill,” she began, and she stopped and hummed in contentment when her own voice echoed, echoed, e c h o e d. “Over dale; thorough bush, thorough brier, over park, over pale, thorough flood, thorough fire!” ( Raise your hand, gesture to the flood, the fire, the burning. ) 

“I do wander everywhere,” she insisted, “swifter than the Moon’s sphere; and I –” 

She could have sworn she heard a creek that did not belong to her.

[jules1x1s-blog]

AH, SHIT. 

He’d interrupted her. Her, her, her and her in all her glory. Maybe they hadn’t exactly met yet, but they were going to because that’s what happened when Dominic Glazer set his mind to something. It happened. Sometimes. 

But now, here he was, literally creeping up behind her and he realized that this was not how he wanted their first meeting to go. No, he wanted to come in with a witty comment and a comment about his passion for animals, gauge her reaction to see if she was actually his dream something ( he’d had a dream, you see, and then his Tarot confirmed it ). Whether that be friend or more.

“Please, go on, I don’t mean to disturb you. Just admire.” He let out a breath -- he hadn’t tripped over his words yet. 

( Just because he hadn’t, didn’t mean that he wasn’t playing with every single ring adorning each finger of his, twisting them around in counter clockwise circles, behind his back. )

“But really, go on, Midsummer’s Night’s Dream might just be my favorite play of all time.”

[dreadwvlfrps]

the lack in the equation.

Finding a place to sit was not supposed to be difficult. Neither was attending college-level class with people she knew from high school, but Addy never was able to compute things at that rate of speed. ( As in, the speed of light. ) She gnawed on the inside of her lower lip, at a loss. 

The lunch room – the lunch amphitheatre, to be honest – stretched out before her. She felt her heart sinking downward a little more into her stomach as she saw no one she’d met up with beforehand. A pocket of paranoia bubbled up and resided in the back of her throat. She could not believe how ridiculous she looked right now – how frail she looked. 

Leaving behind that old, small town; it was supposed to be a new beginning. ( For all of them. ) And yet all old things still haunted their footsteps. 

She wished for none of it. 

Frowning, she marked her forehead with several crows’ feet and tucked the paper bag of takeout beneath her arm, hurrying from the expanse of picnic tables and chattering, loud students galore. She removed herself completely. Instead, she chose the thick trunk of an old tree, and she checked her cellphone for the time before seating herself upon the grass. 

Campuses were strange contraptions. Like labyrinths, but worse. “Right, okay, Addy, let’s just take this one step at a time. Takeout. Just like home. But better. Because no one is looking at you weirdly. And you haven’t had a premonition in weeks. This is fine.”

[jules1x1s-blog]

College had always been part of the American Dream ideal™ that Riley had been force fed as a younger girl. But, after her father had left and the dream came shattering down -- it was more of an unattainable afterthought. Even if Riley’s grades were stellar, her extracurriculars were .... less than satisfactory. Hell, she couldn’t put ‘Bellbrook High Mario Kart Champion’ on her transcript because it counted for absolutely NOTHING. 

But, when a friend had persuaded her to submit her writing, a friend no longer with her anymore, colleges had surprisingly jumped at the chance to potentially have “the next Virginia Woolf” studying at their university, she was offered a full ride into a small college just for that. Riley loved it. 

While most people found themselves l o s t their freshman year of college, Riley was thriving. Finding people who were like her -- and not DESTROYING the town they lived in -- did wonders for her social life. Even if she still chose to keep to herself most of the time, having the option was what counted. Riley had options. 

Sitting under her favorite tree, she heard a familiar voice talking to themselves. Then, she heard the word premonition and took a deep breath in. 

            ( Addy. Addy? Addy. It was Addy Eum. )

“Weeks?? Shit, I accidentally hypnotized my professor the other day, teach me your secret,” Riley responded with a playful lilt to her voice, surprising for ... well ... her. Realizing that her and Addy weren’t exactly more than two people with a rich, shared and INTERTWINED past, Riley cleared her throat. “But yeah, uh, that’s cool.”

[jules1x1s-blog]

talliedoesthe1x1:

They offered a sleepless blink as an answer back. No fame poured from their veins, and so did not the capability to recognise someone famous when they saw them. Not that it mattered. All of this life remained FLEETING, passing in the blinks of mortal eyes; Dionysus remained rather content that he’d chosen someone so self-aware of the sinking-sands to remain wary of them. It baffled him how someone could spend so much extra time thinking on it and l a u g h i n g. 

                     Yet to experience loss was to learn to laugh at the darkness.

Sigrid recognised those who entered with something to hide. All people had something. If it was a stronger Something or a weaker one which could be ignored, that was their business. Yet at times, they made it become their business, oddly taking on the supporting role of the leaning in shoulder and the straightened spine against the madness. ( How awkward, to think that these otherwise sane people were being comforted by the maddest of them all. )

The woman seemed disinterested in comfort. Instead, she focused on questioning. Sigrid didn’t much like questions, not when they were about themselves. That information was off limits.

          ( You expect a stranger to know that? Laughable.             You want to remain unseen and yet you expect             people to pick up on things they have to be told. )

Their gaze turned into a glower; although, surprisingly, it was not towards the woman. Instead, it was to the merry-god in their head, one they both liked and didn’t much like one bit.

“Why questions? I am the bartender, not a person of interest.” Regardless, they pulled out a tall glass from beneath the counter and put it to rest in front of them. “What do you want?”

                                                       ( Drink order; actual question. )

Now was the time Victoire needed some of what her made her her, even now years later, she knew she would’ve been a Slytherin. Even though she’d never gone through the education the rest of her family had gone through, she was still educated in many ways they’d never be. In the art of conversation & body language ( classes she knew definitely weren’t in the Hogwarts curriculum ) -- Victoire was able to manipulate others, but she usually used it to gauge situations like this one. But, for once, the other was UNREADABLE. They were too good at hiding every tick and every tell, Victoire couldn’t read anything, even in their glower, it was just that. A glower. 

    Was the musician losing her touch? Nah, that couldn’t be it. Victoire would try harder. 

“Not a person of interest?? You can’t tell me you really believe that. You don’t need to answer that by the way, it wasn’t a question.” Vic clarified, because it was just a comment, though it was curious that they simply deflected. Very curious. 

           “Hmm, I’ll have whatever is the best drink you make. I’ll try anything, really.” 

But now that they had this particular arrangement -- Victoire needed to ask questions. While before the wix had had the questions she’d wanted to ask the bartender in her head ready to go, now she had a few set more floating around, WAITING to be asked. Curiosity, she felt it scratching at her ankles and Vic figured that her high alcohol tolerance would allow her to ask a good amount. 

       “What’s your name?”

[jules1x1s-blog]

 talliedoesthe1x1 :

New blood remained few and far in-between here; for multiples, Savannah was another bump in the road, something through which they passed and little else. To glance upward and recognise a face was normalcy; to see a stranger pop through the doorway provided more than a little bit of interest. Tapping their fingers against the bar counter, they reached for the rag which always managed to settle itself over the edge, draped regally like a king’s cloak.

          ( It always was better to do something with themselves as they waited for the drop. )

Clenching their teeth together, Sigrid reached upwards and brushed their hair from their forehead. It had been, as the usual, a busy night, customers streaming in and out, none of them settling into their minds as something to be remembered. Dionysus steamed in the back of their mind, wanting little more than to cause absolute MAYHEM. To be a dual-minded god in a dual-minded person was difficult to manage - more than a little bit difficult.

     ( The dissociation grew worse sometimes. )

But to lose themselves on the job was not something that would happen. Instead, they stayed as concentrated as they could. That’s all Sigrid could ask of themselves - and therefore to not strangle the broodiness in the atmosphere of the bar, they targeted one of aforementioned, dreaded strangers with their vice-tongue. “Going to order something, ferðamaður?”

There was a certain privilege in being who she was, but there was also a certain downside. The privilege? Victoire got what she wanted most of the time, she came from a famous & loving family ( though, though they were only famous in one world ) that had always encouraged her to pursue her dreams, to be who she was. They always encouraged Victoire to be authentic, real, and without that, without having them to come back to -- her career would’ve never been as successful as it was. Not that she would admit that her success was dare dependent on anyone else -- she did this for herself, her own hardwork and her band’s -- but they were there. 

The downside? She was in the middle. A squib. A veela squib. Hiding, but in plain sight. Half of the time in the Wizarding World her talent was attributed to her blood -- so she veered away from it. Or, at least, she tried. 

Savannah is where she tried. 

Her band had already gained traction, enough to be extremely known in the UK, to have won a Mercury Award, that they decided to tackle some rural parts of the U.S -- claiming they were taking time to record. Not a lie. Really, it was hard to miss their lead singer, this week her hair was charmed an impossibly vibrant purple ( she thanked Lily for that before she left ), as she walked up to the bar, taking in her surroundings. Victoire always felt like the brain of a club was at it’s bar, so why not poke at it?

“Possibly.” But Victoire found someone who seemed much more intriguing to poke at ( not that that wise, oh no ), “for every question you answer I’ll buy a drink? Or I’ll keep on bothering you without the drinks.” It was soft, though the person in front of her wasn’t & Victoire hoped they’d take the first option indeed. 

[enlxghten-blog]

[talliedoesthe1x1]

Lily could not ( and refused ) to be someone who forgave, and then forgot the mistake. It was not that she held a grudge against those who stumbled on their quest, but rather those who did not acknowledge the blunder. At the very least, she treated them with as much or as little respect as she was given, and that could change, and had, at the drop of the Sorting Hat, if people did so wish. Because people were flakey, and strange, and terrible and just so wonderful all at the same time; sometimes, it made her head spin to think on it for too long. There were, of course, some things that were more forgivable than others. Like speaking one’s opinion and then deciding it was, perhaps, a little too not-delicate to be spoken.

After all, there had been dozens of times where she’d discovered that speaking out her mind against some unruly Slytherins and their Hufflepuff counterparts resulted in being pinned to the wall and the insults screeched in her ear. Did such things halt her from backing down, the constant bullying and the battering down, a false reprieve from what had started at home and followed her here, down the proverbial rabbit hole? Absolutely not. It shaped her into the girl she was becoming, and would continue to do so until her time on earth had ended.

She straightened her spine hard against the chair and bit down on her lower lip, fidgeting with her tongue on the roof of her mouth. Emmeline was obviously embarrassed about what she had said, and consequently implied, but to be honest, Lily would not have even picked up on the implications without the additional haphazard dialogue. Nevertheless, she decided to take this as she would all other concepts of opinionated outbursts: by encouraging it. In her own verbal tongue-and-cheek slaps back, of course.

“Those are the nastiest of people. I don’t think we want to know what they do in their own pastimes. They take things too far. Hm.” She ruptured the noise in the back of her throat. “It’s the same kind of bloke who gets off on bloody torturing animals as a child. Psychotics, the lot of them. Those who ruin others should have no respect dealt to them, and yet they do such acts as that to demand respect. Where are the truths? None exist.”

Then, her lips twitched. “You’d have to put on a small Halloween costume and pretend to be ten thousand times less intelligent than you actually are. They’re a waste of space and time.” She demonstrated no regrets for what could be considered absolute social blunders; it was to the point where the lad next to her fidgeted uncomfortably. She opened up a look to him. “Are you one of them?” He fervently shook his head. “Good.”

[jules1x1s-blog]

It was amazing that Emmeline managed to turn something that was joking, bright, into this. Maybe it was a mutual effort, but still -- it irked her. Why could she have social finesse? Why couldn’t she be eloquent & confident, laugh off her mistakes -- was she a product of her upbringing that much? Did the anxiety, the constantly worrying about saying the wrong thing, completely and utterly fucking up and being punished for it -- was it still there? It was. It was the only reason she had to backtrack so much. Emmeline was working on it, she was moving forward, but this social blunder meant more to her than Lily might’ve ever known. 

Or maybe she did know. No one was perfect, it was important not to put the other girl on a pedestal, because that wouldn’t be healthy. See, Emmeline was learning, she was getting better & silently she thanked whatever entity in the universe that could hear her for Lily being herself. Even with all this, her skin still felt like it was crawling from embarrassment and she was waiting for some kind of retaliation. Some find of punishment for being so careless -- even though it didn’t come. 

No, instead came what felt like a cavalcade to her rescue in the form of Lily’s words. Even though the topic turned slightly more grim by regular standards, the fact that Lily didn’t give her a look like she was insane in the horrible way, was reliving. “You’re right. You practically speak gospel, Evans, I wonder how you do it? -- But to your other point, that’s quite an insightful and interesting point. I think -- though I hate to sound like I sympathize -- everyone has a different truth. Still, it’s an amazing point you’ve made.” What a brilliant woman. 

Then, she was thrown off. Was Lily asking her if she was a pervert or a pedophile? No, in fact she hadn’t even been talking to Emmeline but the bloke next to her and she couldn’t help but to elicit a small laugh. “You could always ask him if he knows anyone who is -- though he seems rather scared right now.” 

[talliedoesthe1x1]

She recalled the times when she had sunk into herself in the shelves of the hidden places in the libraries or in the shadows of the astronomy tower, just to keep to herself. There had been a mutual comprehension between the two of them when there had been interactions, ones that Lily tucked into the back of her mind. She wasn’t apt to forget things such as this. A bit of an odd aura surrounded the fellow seventh year, one she could never quite place.

But it wasn’t the stuff of the writhing green traitor ( who she dismissed with a shake of her head, despite him being nowhere near the two of them. ) Therefore, she was not suspicious of the lack of flux in the emotions and the characteristics. She found it quite pleasurable and different. And she was always for the stuffs and nonsense of sharing wanderlust.

“Some would say it isn’t to be admired. We won’t listen to those blighters either. There’s no need for that sort of a wretched attitude.” She fluffed out the curling corners of parchment with quick fingers. “Especially in light of recent events. Confounded idiots. Looking at the bright expressions on their faces is much better of a pastime.”

[jules1x1s-blog]

It was in her presence she felt increasingly more comfortable, something rare. Something beautifully foreign, & something she’d later pick apart like she always did when the two had exchanges. Emmeline wasn’t quite sure if it was trust, because she didn’t really trust anyone completely & fully with herself -- but it was something that inspired her to be better, to want to do good. Positivity felt good for once, not being wrapped up in days past, in years that were more nightmarish than they were supposed to be -- swept away. 

Lily Evans was a hell a of a human being -- she inspired. She inspired Emmeline and she couldn’t have thought of a better Head Girl. The fact that the some of the Wizarding World was trying to eliminate people like her made her more determined to fight than ever. To protect her. 

“Really, there isn’t. It’s like sometimes I wonder if they like being miserable gits. I may complain about some first years from time to time but those nasty people,” the ones who made first years cry on purpose, the ones who HAPPILY made sure to deliver the message they didn’t belong because of their blood,” they probably just get off on it.” Emmeline couldn’t help but snort, never really having been so crude in her life but really, was she idiotic for thinking that? Wait -- oh, Christ, “’m not calling them perverts or pedophiles, I just mean, there’s no need to scare first years.”

Nice way to put your foot in your mouth, Emmeline. “It is a better past time, I’d really ought to ask them one day. Maybe I’ll get a logical explanation and I’d be able to sleep soundly.” Not that she did -- but, the metaphor was important in this instance especially because it was witty and after her little blunder, she needed witty.

[talliedoesthe1x1]

She never was someone who stopped adoring magic. There was a kinship to the making of sweets in the middle of the air, just as there was with the brushing of fingertips against the petals of flowers to make them spin with the nuances of spring. So sometimes, she caught herself watching in rapture with refilling goblets, despite being in her seventh year, a little bit of a compulsive social smoker, and a prefect with maternal duties to the rest of the castle.

Never could Lily Evans resist a genuine smile and a brush at actual conversation. Glancing up from the quill in her left hand and the bacon on her plate, shuffled onto the eggs with the buttered toast, one side of her mouth raised in return. “I’ll admit I’m just as distracted as the majority of them. It’s so - tangibly sweet, and a nice difference to natural cynicism.”

[jules1x1s-blog]

Leave it to Lily Evans to make her smile -- she exuded something that Emmeline didn’t know if she’d ever have -- kindness. Yes, Emme was kind, but did she exude a natural aura of it while still being approachable & charamasitc? Not at all. Only when it came to dueling was Emmeline ever really in her element. 

This wasn’t to say she was jealous, there was no point to be jealous of the Gryffindor because she admired Lily’s essence much more than anything. Emmeline actually smiled over, her tone a bit teasing, “That is most definitely true. And if you’re just as distracted, then I’ll make sure to admire your wanderlust as well.” 

Emmeline couldn’t say she wasn’t equally as astounded, especially when she knew Hogwarts would be a place she wouldn’t inhabit after this year, “And I’ll admit ... -- I’m definitely just as enchanted. While cynicism is to be expected, it needs to be let go at least for tonight. For right now.”

[jules1x1s-blog]

After scarfing an amount of food that was fit for a sumo wrestler, Emmeline stopped eating and just watched some of the younger years. Their wide eyes at how each time their goblet refills effortlessly always seemed to amaze them. It was always one of the things that could guarantee a true smile on Emmeline’s face. “— The little first years are always so … adorable when they get surprised by the magic of this castle.”

[pressingflxwers-blog]

“Oh, it’s me.” He chuckled as he stepped up next to her, unintentionally finding himself on ‘her’ rounds once again. “I’m half convinced you’re the one that arranges these things but I was under the impression that you liked me –on your rounds I mean.”

[jules1x1s-blog]

“It must be fate. Or Dumbledore. Most logically the Head Girl and Head Boy’s doing -- but who needs that.” Emmeline raised her eyebrows and laughed, “any other impressions? Those are both false, so, I think you might need a reality check.”

[jules1x1s-blog]

Hearing footsteps, Emmeline quickly turned around, before letting out a breather of relief. “Oh, it’s you,” Emme said rolling her eyes playfully. “You stalk me, I’m convinced, you’re always doing rounds when I am. Why is that?”

[prodlgious-blog]

"Alice? What are you doing in my room?"

[jules1x1s-blog]

Alice yawned, stretching her arms, pushing herself up from his bed. "You're acting like you're not happy to see me. -- I was just taking a nap before I have to teach Krav Maga to the younger years."

[inferihq]

"Here’s the deal. I made the mistake of playing Oreo and, well, lost. So I’m here on a dare from my so-called friends over there to ask you out. Just say no, and I’ll go away."

[jules1x1s-blog]

"Boo, you were the one who played Oreo in the first place so, imma let you suffer a lil' alright? -- Besides, if that's your definition of asking someone out, no wonder they made you come ask me. Like practice. First part of my -- I mean -- your suffering is explaining to me what Oreo actually is. And here I thought it was just a food, huh, I better make sure my sisters aint playing no Oreo."

[jules1x1s-blog]

"You really have a way with animals, it's nice to see."

[inferihq]

"All right, I don’t know what your trauma is, but even though measurements never were my strong suit, I think there’s enough room for you to squeeze around me, John Doe.”

[jules1x1s-blog]

"See, that, little one, is where you're wrong. If I could squeeze through, wouldn't I have already? Logic. Please, don't perpetuate the dumb blonde stereotype. Kane."

[jules1x1s-blog]

"Hey, look, I'm in a shit mood and you being in my way is fucking annoying. Move aside, thanks. I don't have all century."

[jules1x1s-blog]

kurt--rps:

"I’m   quite   aware   that  he’s    not     the    most  easy  to get along  with.  But  his  brother   is  an  a c t u a l psychopath.”

For a few seconds,  all Clarabel could do was take in what her friend had just told her. "Well, you've got a  point there -- though,  it's more of a l e s s e r of two evils comparison." Still, she did like Demyan even if morally she  was well aware he wasn't the greatest of people.