navghtyxnice:
Advanced Theology of The Dark Arts was the coroner’s favorite forbidden textbook, banned in learning institutions and libraries in dozens of counties throughout Oz. He’d propped the book upright to hide behind – at least, when he was not peeking around it to spy upon other patrons. “Your tiredness,” he drawled. “It’s only a few degrees shy of matching a corpse.”
Joon had a monotonous voice, bland as the blank face suppressing his emotions. His family – which, was filled with eccentric wizards – wasn’t sure where he’d inherited his eerie calm. After all, his mother and father were suburbanites; they considered a freshly mowed lawn utopia, and only used magic to enhance their garden parties. They all loved each other, but from the moment Joon had been born it was evident the boy wasn’t a social butterfly.
Blonde hair with the hazy, cloud-like density of frayed yarn fibers fluttered from the opened shop door. People came and went, but Joon’s attention was solely upon Sawyer. “Are your sleep troubles from a magical malady?”
Sawyer looked over at the Oz local and rolled his eyes gently. He could read the title on the book, knew that the person sitting behind it was more interested in people watching than the book itself - no one reads a textbook like that, after all. “Sometimes, don’t you wish you were one?” Sawyer drawled back, pursing his lips gently before they broke out into a maddening grin.
He took a sip of his tea gently before sighing. “When are troubles not magical maladies?” Sawyer mused, before shrugging. “So yes, I guess you could say that they are, although, less direct than what you’re implying, if I were to guess.”











