#character:edward

[swacit]

Lord almighty, those Fairchild men

[eridawrites]

( slurred words ) pretty please ♥

I doubt you remember sending me this, but I know it was for Corward and I’m on a meme-answering spree at the moment, so I’m gonna do it. A drunken description of one Miss Cora Johnson by Ed Corner.

Ed stared dumbly at the group of friends surrounding him after the question was turned on him. They were talking about their friends, present or not, and what they loved most about the other. He’d already been asked to talk about everyone in the room, and now Jo turned the question on him as her head rested on Cora’s shoulder, whose on head was resting on Prue’s shoulder. The three girls had taken the couch hostage after they all drunkenly stumbled over, and Ed was now sitting opposite them on an overturned crate. The furniture in the home of the university students was hardly chic or necessarily “furniture” at all.

“Well, I already called Sam a cloud, Prue the bay you mistake for an ocean, and Jo a comet,” he reasoned, his tongue feeling numb as the question slowly filtered through his impaired mind. As if it would aid him in some way, he rose the bottle of beer up to his lips and took a thoughtful swig. “Cora’s like...not the sun, but the streaks of light you see breaking through the clouds when you’re flying up high. It seems to break through the darkest clouds to shine some brightness on all different parts of the world. There’s no discrimination. The light touches everything.”

He offered a smile to the group as he looked up from his drink. “She’s, uh, she’s beautiful. Her eyes are the same color as the sky on a clear day, and I guess that’s why I feel more comfortable when I’m looking into them.” There was a blush creeping from his neck up to his hairline, but he couldn’t seem to stop his drunken rambling mouth. “She’s one of the most trust-worthy people I’ve ever met. A great midnight snack buddy, too. We can’t make a thing, but we’re great at picking spoons to eat ice cream with. She makes whimsy and optimism seem possible for anyone she comes across.”

“And, uh, she’s got a good accent,” he concluded with a small chuckle, quickly taking a long gulp of his beer to hide his burning face from the others.

[eridawrites]

♪: Open when you can’t sleep

Johnson -

I meant to write this for when you can’t sleep, but then you’d probably end up reading it about three seconds from now since it’s four in the morning and I can hear you in the kitchen still. After I finish this I’m probably going to talk to you (past you, since present you is reading this, unless you got your hands on a timeturner, but in that case the present you would also be your past you but continue to be your present you). So, don’t just read this when you can’t sleep. Read it when you can’t sleep and I’m not around.

Have I ever told you how amazing birds are? They’re incredible, really. They spend so much of their lives in the air, it’s like a dream. And when they don’t like someplace, they just get up and fly away. Those beaks of theirs are tough, but they hardly ever peck people. It’s like ‘oi, I’ve got this weapon on my face, but I won’t use it’, and that’s so amazing. And there are just so many different kinds of birds. And the best part? The other birds don’t really care. They just go on, and fly on.

Zebras are pretty awesome, too. Bees aren’t appreciated enough, or anteaters. Dragons, well, okay, dragons are really amazing. Being a dragon for a day would be remarkable, just to see the world from that perspective. Then again, I guess we all think it’d be interesting to see the world from every perspective possible. It’s the saddest part of life that we only ever see the world truly from our own two eyes, yet the most special and integral part of it. We can try, but we can never truly gain the same perspective as another person or creature.

Sorry for the ink blotches around the corners. I just knocked over the inkwell by accident. Actually, the blotches look really cool. The one all the way up at the right kind of looks like Merlin. Oh, that might be a good way to help you fall asleep! Count the Merlins!

I hope you never have to read this. I hope you never have a night when you can’t sleep and someone else isn’t there to be with you, whether it’s me or not. I know I go missing sometimes, and I miss it when I wake up somewhere and there’s no chance I can just walk into the kitchen and see you. You’re wonderful, Cora, and that’s the word I’m using because it half past four in the morning and I can’t think of any others to possibly describe you. You’re wonderful, and you’re real, more real than any bad dreams. Don’t let yourself think otherwise.

- Ed C.

P.S. There’s a small pouch attached. I charmed it so that it stretches on the inside, and there’s about a dozen fairy tale books inside to read to help you fall asleep.

[eridawrites]

The New York Clan

irensmussings, circes1x1s

[eridawrites]

Sooo... irensmussings and circes1x1s...I wrote a thing...?

POP.

"Go talk to her."

There was a clattering sound as Edward stood up suddenly and knocked over all the brushes and his water color palette before the water jar finally spilled over, too. He stared at Mia, who had taken the liberty of rolling her eyes twice rather than just once at the clumsiness she so disliked about the boy. Grace and poise had always been expected of her, and to see him constantly not be able to grasp onto either concepts was aggravating to no end. Still, the grace and poise she exhibited in her stance did not always correlate to her speech, especially when she needed people to act quickly.

"Circe is leaving," she informed Edward, and his jaw visibly dropped nearly to the floor. Before he could ask some ridiculous question, Mia held her hand up to quiet him. "She is going back to London. Now, I know you and Vincent and Kinsley and even Peter are not from that society, but I am. No one leaves a growing career on command just for the hell of it."

"Then why is she-"

"That is also none of your business."

"So what do I need to do? Try to, uh, stop her?" Ugh, that stutter that sometimes slipped into his words still after all these years grated on her nerves so badly most days.

"Of course not, imbecile, if someone wants to stop her, they will stop her."

It was Peter, of course, that she was talking about. She knew - practically had since he first started looking at her like that. After all, she was raised to observe, mostly so she could adjust. Never with Peter, though. She watched him to make sure he was good. Not necessarily happy, but at least good. Whenever he looked too distant, she always tried to go out of her way to speak with him privately. Still, he was about the only person she could ever speak to with some intent of being comforting and helpful without expecting much in return, aside from perhaps Vincent. Even with Kinsley, whom she thought to be so much fun sometimes and a good person to have around a genuine girlfriend, she could not bring herself to be more than superficially sentimental before she needed to hand the girl off to someone else. Thankfully, Kinsley rarely required such actions, but in the event of a member of their group - their family - leaving, Mia hated the idea of the New York girl being alone.

"So what am I supposed to do?" Edward finally asked timidly.

"Go talk to Kinsley. She needs your stammering idiocy right now."

"I'm n-not, I'm not actually an idi-"

"Go."

The man quickly nodded and apparated on the spot, something Mia was grateful for before he could say anything else. Settling down onto the couch in his studio apartment, she looked around at the place. Vincent sometimes paid for a maid to come in and clean the area up, since Edward was so poor at continuous housekeeping, but it had been some time since the maids had come through. She still had no idea why the man insisted on living alone, and so far from where the others lived closer together. Then again, he was farther outside the warzone he did not even know existed.

The blonde picked up a wine glass off the cluttered coffee table before her, eyeing the rim and recognizing Kinsley's lipstick along the rim. The base of the wine glass next to it was chipped, likely from Edward dropping it. Through the rounded glass, she could see the clock on the other side of the wall that was informing her it was time for one of her classes, but yet she found herself remaining where she was. Rarely did she ever miss a class. It was almost unheard of, and especially never happened during her time at Durmstrang or Hogwarts. She did dearly hope that Peter was able to stop Circe, but she also knew the repercussions that may come to the quiet girl should she choose now to be brave. All actions had consequences, something she knew far too well. After all, they were from the same world. Here they were simply on a vacation.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

It took five Apparitions to five different locations all over the city before Edward finally found Kinsley sitting on a stool at one of her favorite bars. She had clearly already had a few drinks, and was in the middle of telling the bartender what appeared to be a lengthy but incredibly hysterical joke. At least, she was cracking up, even if the bartender was looking at her rather skeptically. Edward took one step and tripped over his shoelace, reaching out to grab onto a table for support but putting too much force into it and knocking the whole table over. After blinking away some water that had spilled on his face, he looked up to see Kinsley staring down at him with a silly grin on her face and a glaze in her eyes it always worried him to see at this hour.

"I heard about Circe," Edward stated, still lying down on the floor while some of the waiters started fixing the table. He was in there enough with Kinsley and the others; they knew he was a walking safety hazard. "I'm sorry."

"Silly cutie, what's there for you to be sorry for?" Kinsley asked with a giggle. "It's not like you decided to get up and leave us all just because your parents called you back home."

"Kins..." Edward quickly pushed himself up and faced the girl. Or rather, looked down at the girl who was almost half a foot shorter than him even with the heels she was currently wearing. "You know she can't say no to her parents. I mean, if my parents needed me home, I'd go."

Kinsley stamped her foot a bit. "But that's different."

"How so?"

She slouched her shoulders, the pout that killed Edward every time clearly visible on her face. "Because you visit your family all the time. Even Mia visits her parents frequently. When was the last time Circe visited her family, right?"

"I guess, but maybe it's because -"

"Because she doesn't want to go?" She clapped her hands together with wide eyes. "Exactly! So! We're going to create an escape plan." She latched onto Edward's wrist and dragged him over to the counter to push him into a seat. "We'll need a dragon."

"You're drunk, Kins."

"I'm plotting, Ed," she said as seriously as she could before grabbing a pen and a napkin. She began scribbling with a grin growing on her face. "It's kind of fun, isn't it? This whole escape plan thing? I'll be like Circe's knight in shining armor with my Amazon woman and Grumpy to back me up."

Edward reached out slowly to put a hand over Kinsley's to reluctantly cease her scribbling. "This is Circe's decision. I don't like it either. But we have to let her do this."

Kinsley threw the pen down with a quiet groan, folding her arms close to her chest. "But England's so boring compared to here. She's going to hate it."

Edward sighed, his eyes glued to his hand on top of Kinsley's. He may not have been too close to Circe, but he always liked trying to get her involved in things when she was around. She was quiet; big crowds did to her what they did to him. Unless he was at a concert where he could feel almost like he was alone, being in big social situations could drain him, and it did not take long to realize Circe was the same way. They were kindred spirits in that sense, and he had always had a bit of a soft-spot for the small, dark-haired girl that spoke so rarely. The idea of her going someplace where there would be no one to ask her how she was when she timidly entered a crowded room did not sit well with Edward at all.

He pulled his hand away from Kinsley's suddenly, looking to her with a raised eyebrow. "So we really need a dragon for this?"

[eridawrites]

haliawrites I feel like I should have a reasonable explanation for why this happened but ???? I just did it whoops

Edward was still awake at 1 AM, as he had just crawled back in through his window after spending nearly six hours just staring up at the sky. Every now and then, he could hear one of the girls laughing from Jo's open bedroom window before Jo shouted something about some guy named Claudius and slammed the window shut. Edward had furrowed his brows together curiously, unsure who this Claudius was or why Johanna did not want anyone to hear her talking about him. Perhaps she was getting a new owl? Claudius was certainly a nice name for an owl...Was it for her twelfth birthday? Maybe he could get the owl a nice little hand-made pouch for carrying things.

Once back in his room, the Ravenclaw began playing one of the CD's for Throwing Pixies, unaware of how loud it was or even really what time it was. As with most of his time-telling devices in his future, the battery had broken for his clock and he had yet to replace it. He was certain he would get around to it at some point within the next few decades, though. Always a bit of a night owl, it was nearly a full hour of sketching later that Edward's eyelids began to droop. He had just dimmed the light in his room and crawled into bed when he noticed a figure standing in the doorway. Rubbing at his eyes, he tried to peer through the darkness until he caught a familiar shade of blonde reflecting off the moonlight coming through the window as the girl mumbled something and turned to walk away.

"Cora!" he whisper-yelled, getting up and walking over to open his door more.

"I-I was just trying to find the bathroom..." she mumbled.

"Oh, it's right across from Jo's room."

She nodded, but her feet kept her in one place in front of Edward, who was still a bit confused by Cora forgetting where the bathroom was as she had been at their house plenty of times before when she and Prue would stay over. The girl seemed to be having a silent argument with herself as she twisted slightly away from the room and then twisted back to face Edward. Finally, she gave out a bit of a sigh, with a slight hitch in it followed by a hiccup.

"You okay?" Edward asked, now concerned that perhaps she had drunk some potion she was not supposed to.

"Just...dreams...bad dreams..."

The boy tilted his head to the side with an expression of concern, though he was uncertain as to how to respond to that. He had never suffered through bad dreams or nightmares before, and he could not recall his sister ever doing so. He recalled a few years ago when his father woke up screaming from one, but his mother had quickly calmed him down. Was he supposed to offer her water? Oh, dear, last time he tried to use the water pitcher he dropped it and the thing split in half with the water going all over the kitchen.

"Prue and Jo were asleep, I didn't want to wake them," Cora seemed be rushing to explain in a hushed tone. "And, I heard..."

Edward looked over his shoulder at the stereo, realizing suddenly just how loud it probably was. "Come in," he said quickly as he ran over to try and turn the stereo off. He ended up accidentally blasting the volume as high as it could go for just a half-second before getting the thing to actually shut off. When he turned around, Cora was timidly sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall opposite her where Edward had Quidditch posters and random drawings tacked up all over the place.

"So...bad dreams," he stated, taking a step forward and settling down next to Cora. "What was it about?" He just got a startled, wide-eyed expression as a response, and quickly acted as though he had not asked the question. "Maybe you could...replace the dream? I mean, in your memory. Not replace it, but, uh, superimpose something on it? No, no, that's not what I...I mean, maybe if you think of something nice now - something more powerful and more enjoyable than the dream - it won't, uh, come back. You can just scare it away, but, like, with good stuff."

"...Good stuff?"

"Yeah! Like..." He scooted backward until he could reach his original copy of The Tales of the Beedle the Bard that was lying on his nightstand under a stack of other books. "A fairy tale." He pulled out his wand, creating just a small glowing bulb at the end of his wand to help him see the words on the pages as he flipped through them. Cora remained seated at the end of the bed, looking toward Edward expectantly. "Have you ever heard...The Fountain of Fair Fortune?" In the dim light, he could just barely make out a shake of the head. Edward cleared his throat before he began to read, most of it coming from memory as he just looked at the pictures and occasionally up at Cora. "High on a hill in an enchanted garden, enclosed by tall walls and protected by strong magic, flowed the Fountain of Fair Fortunre..."

He continued to recite it, but his voice grew heavier and slower, and his eyelids began to fluttered until they completely shut. He awoke with a slight start when he felt a strange poking feeling in his foot, taking a few moments to recall that Cora was in his room. She was lying down along the end of the bed, still awake, and apparently eager to hear the end of the story. Edward sat up more, trying to find where he had left off as he absently tossed the blanket toward Cora in case she got cold. "Where was I...ah! So the knight clanked forth in the last rays of the setting sun, and bathed in the Fountain of Fair Fortune, astonished that he was the chosen one of hundreds..."

[eridawrites]

[eridawrites]

Corchard Family meets Greek Gods