Bast | Open Starter
The failed herbalism test sat next to Bast on the ground by his feet with multiple red lines scratched out across the paper and helpful arrows and diagrams drawn as corrections. It was an unfortunate conclusion despite how the professor had spent extra hours of her time last week attempting to prep him. He just didn’t get it. It all looked and sounded the same. He wasn’t mad at Momma A.
He sat on the curb outside of Novas. An unlit cigarette hung from his lips as he leaned over to unbuckle the guitar case. Lucian didn’t care that he brought the instrument so long as he didn’t leave it in the way. His white t-shirt was still stained from the bottle of wine he had dropped and shattered on the floor earlier that evening. He’d even tried to do a reaction spell to try and stop it from hitting the floor. It didn’t work. Glass and expensive booze went everywhere. Lucian was rightfully displeased about the situation. He wasn’t mad at Lucian. The strings were out of tune and he took his time. Focusing on the pitch of each. One of his fingers didn’t quite hold the cords the way it used to; compliments of a fist fight he had gotten into with one of the stepdads from his childhood. He wasn’t mad at the absent father. As he played his eyebrows furrowed as the music didn’t quite sound right. Something that used to come so naturally to him was a struggle. His frustration levels grew as the simple task seemed more and more elusive. His mind wandered to the students at Polaris and how they all seemed to embrace their magic naturally. He wasn’t mad at them. With growing frustration, the song changed. Instead of the calming acoustic melody he had been going for; it turned to note playing. When the attempts at cords wasn’t working, he tried to master the individual sounds. Even then, it didn’t sound right. He played harder. His fingers hurt from the practice. And eventually, instead of satisfaction; A string snapped. “FUCK!” The guitar was then abandoned far more roughly to the ground than he meant for it to and a sickening crack was heard at it struck the concrete of Nova’s parking lot. He was angry. He stared at the guitar in silent horror at what had just happened.
He was so very angry at himself. Distracted, he didn’t even hear the approaching footsteps.
