Of Princesses, Ponies, and Friendship [closed]

[Marcus O'Conner]

Free periods were usually spent with your nose crammed between the pages of a book, attempting to glean as much information from the text as if you had spent hours studying for the test that you knew you’d be taking next period. Or hanging out with a friend that had the same free period that you did, doing something that usually evoked no thought process beyond what it was that you were looking at or planning to do that weekend. It meant writing a quick paper or throwing your homework together as someone reminded you that it was due that day. Free period meant having a whole period off in which to do nothing. As of late Marcus had been occupying himself with the very first option, almost to overload. However, the closer it got to a full moon, the harder it was becoming. Especially with how long he’d been going without letting some of the energy he’d been building up within him while he was doing all of that cramming out. And not letting that energy out made for a very different Marcus. His responses to people had become short, his temper much quicker, even his appearance had undergone a few subtle reminders that he wasn’t all human. The hair that he normally kept well under control had grown out just a bit shaggier, his normal five ‘o’clock shadow fledging into outright scruff. Not that being a bit wolfier didn’t have its perks. Girls who hadn’t paid him an excess of attention before were looking more his way, and those that had already been slightly interested seemed all the more willing to find an excuse to attempt conversation. Maybe it had something to do with the animal instinct, he wasn’t quite sure- but he wasn’t entirely comfortable with it either... Which is why he’d begged a tiara off of Mandi, apparently some remnant of her pageant career back home. That, and the fact that he’d come to understand that the more girly the object the more it seemed to tamp down the negative impacts of his reactions. Something he’d stumbled upon by accident back in his third year. Using a frilly pink pen during a test that left him particularly frustrated seemed to keep the snapping of said pen at bay, something that he’d had a problem with several times in the past. In all actuality it was one of the only times he’d used something like that. After snapping at a girl in the corridor the other day though he figured that it was worth a try to attempt a similar recreation. The tiara though? Had enough weight on it to remind himself that it was what he was wearing, and he figured the lesson in humility wouldn’t hurt him any either. Plus, although Mandi was a wee bit of a bimbo, she did have the foresight to have a tiara that used small combs along the base to attach itself more firmly to the hair, meaning that he could go out running with it… and seeing that it was his plan for his free period today… it worked out rather well.

So it was that he was outside in the mid-thirties, rather warmish considering that it was getting closer and closer to three, in a pair of sweatpants and a crown- his feet hitting the grass beneath with a steady, methodical rhythm. Had he been anywhere else but on the grounds of Galaxia he would have opted for neither. He’d been running for about an hour, the sheen of sweat coating his torso compliment to the workout, his breath coming steadily even as he fought off the heat that had built within him during the session. A teen running around the quidditch pitch in the nude was sure to draw more attention than he wanted garnered though. As it was running barefoot and shirtless had already gotten him a few sideways looks- though to be fair he had started out with a muscle shirt, until it became too tight a constriction for him to wear. Sweatpants, thankfully, were loose enough to not cause him too much undue discomfort. The simple solution would usually be the forest, but he’d made plans with Tobias today, meaning that he didn’t have the time to run to the forest and back and still get in a good run. So why waste it? Tobias was set to meet up with him here in not too long, one of the reasons he had slowed down on his run, jogging easily over to where he’d thrown down his shirt. The other reason happened to be on the opposite side of the quidditch pitch, their giggling grating on his ears even from that distance. He reached a hand up idly, wiping away the perspiration from his forehead and letting his fingers drag it off of his face as he lent down, grabbing his shirt in one hand and pulling it quickly on, despite the protestations from what seemed to be his pores. Already he could feel the sweat cooling on his skin, helping-even if only somewhat- to bring his temperature down. He would have waited until Tobias actually got here to stop, however he had a feeling that his friend would be arriving shortly, if he wasn’t already somewhere among the few scattered people on the pitch… or hanging in some rafters, or doing something else equally unorthodox. They’d agreed to meet on the left side of the pitch though, so rather than go searching for him Marcus walked a few steps away from the stands where he had been standing and dropped unceremoniously to the ground, letting his limbs stretch out as he lay upon the grass, enjoying the contrast of the cool grass against his skin. He could roll in it… except for the fact that it did sound faintly dog like and would most likely dislodge his crown. The crown that so far had done an excellent job of meeting his expectations. Not that it didn’t come with a small price…

He let his neck stretch further back as he closed his eyes, trying to shut out the cacophony of sounds that was permeating his eardrums. It would be where that i-pid thing-a-ma-jigger his brother had shown him would come in handy. He could plug his ears up and focus on music. Come to think of it, it was odd that muggles had come up with the idea and no one had incorporated something similar into the wizarding world. I mean, if you thought about it, plenty of wizards had muggle backgrounds or associations, meaning that plenty of them would know what the device was and he was sure there were an equal number of those students who came from muggle families who used them. His lips tilted into a thoughtful frown as he considered the idea, fingers going to work at mindlessly plucking green blades from the ground in the meantime. It was something he could bring up with Robert next time they talked. His mind drifted idly from there, running over the possibilities within it as he did so, leaving him in a half-dozing state before a few minutes had passed. He was just to the point of thinking about inventing such a thing himself when a shadow fell across his closed lids, alerting him to the familiar scent that was approaching him. His nostrils widened slightly as he inhaled a bit deeper, throwing one arm over his eyes as he turned his chin up fractionally. “Yer blockin’ me sun boyo.”

[/center][/blockquote]

[Tobias Leberecht]

SOMETIMES I FIND IT HARD
• to believe there's someone else who could be •
JUST AS MESSED UP AS ME

“Yer blockin’ me sun boyo.” Tobias' tall, lanky form cast a shadow over his friends frame, blocking the sunlight from his face, and helping to cut the gleam off of the odd tiara that Marcus seemed to be wearing today. It wasn't his place to judge or question what his friend chose to wear on any given day. Merlin only knew that if either person in this odd friendship was in a position to judge the other one, it certainly wasn't Tobias that had that privilege. He was an odd one, Marcus was due for an odd moment or two. Pulling the stack of books and rolls of parchment that he had clutched under his arms, he held them out over the torso of the formerly resting boy, and released his grip. The books did as expected, landing with a thud on the chest of his companion, and Tobias placed his hands back into his pockets, still hovering. He had no intention of explaining himself, or moving even if asked. He had discovered the stack of texts whenever he had been going through his things earlier in the week, and had started a pile. Now seemed as good of a time as any to return them, even though Marcus had no book bag.

The letters however, were Marcus' mail that Tobias had deliberately intercepted this morning at breakfast. He had ordered some information and had it sent to Marcus, for various reasons. People had started to look at him funny whenever he had been getting too many lumpy parcels over the breakfast table. He was running short on supplies, and was finally able to afford replenishing his stock. He had sent some to Marcus to divert the attention, he had been almost invisible for so very long, he didn't like it whenever he did end up getting attention, he wasn't fond of it. Today however, had just been normal letters, so he might as well deliver them to the intended target. One, he had avoided reading, it seemed to be from Marcus' father... and that was always a touchy subject. So, Tobias had tucked it inside of the cover of one of the text books.

Rocking back and forth impatiently on the balls of his feet, his eyes turned upward around the Pitch. It was just about the only place that Tobias found himself conforming to social norms. While, he didn't come here over day and run, or do any exercise at all for that matter outside of practices that he was required to come to, it was an interesting thing to experience. He had always been able to see very well, it was something that had always greatly helped his attention to detail, and his sight was why he was able to replicate things into drawing form so easily. It had only made sense that he was the Seeker for the team. He wasn't the best, but he won his share of games over the years. Every time he was on this field, he tended to feel obligated to move around, or attempt to do something remotely physical. He just wasn't a fan of cardio, or very many physical activities.

He had been blessed with a slender frame and a high metabolism. Of course, he wasn't also blessed with an abundance of muscle or strength, but he would take what he could get. Hands still In his pockets, he crossed his ankles and lowered himself to the ground, until he was sitting with his legs crossed under one another, boney knees jutting out to either side. In this position, he was reminded of the other reason he had hurried out here, there was a poke in his spine. Extracting one hand from his pocket he reached around his back and pulled out the item that had been tucked into the back of his pants. A girl had stopped him on his way out of the castle, saying that she had something else for Marcus, and to make sure that he got it sooner rather than later. Holding the frilly sceptre over Marcus' face. “Some lady named 'Mandi' said this was for you?” At the time, it had seemed strange, but now, it seemed to make sense.



TAGGED ! marcus
WORDS ! 707
OUTFIT ! CLICK
LYRICS ! sometimes by skillet
TEMPLATE ! PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION
NOTES ! -will get longer as it goes on I assume...

[Marcus O'Conner]

After a moment of no response he pulled his arm away from his face, eyes opening to look up at the lanky form standing over him, eyes squinting around the halo of light that surrounded it. His irises had barely come into focus when the boy moved once more, holding something over Marcus. It looked vaguely like… “Books.” The assortment landed on his chest, expelling the air that was used to utter the curse. Books, why was Tobias bringing him books? Not the oddest thing the other boy had done, but definitely not in the normal spectrum that one would expect when meeting a friend out on the pitch. Maybe he’d found yet another something that he wanted to research, or test… Marcus was good at being a lab rat, and for Tobias didn’t mind. It was a much more acceptable option than those he’d been given in the past. At least Tobias attempted to make things as pain-free as possible for him. Or maybe the other boy had gotten something stuck in his head again; searching for a solution that probably didn’t even exist. He pushed the leather bound leaflets off of his chest, picking one up and looking at the cover. Ah, his potions book then. Why Tobias had chosen now of all moments to return the texts to him he wouldn’t question- it was just another of his odd quirks. “Ay, thank ye, I was beginning ta wonder if I would be getting this lot back this year.” He wove his fingers through the air, stopping in his tracks as he turned to survey a piece of paper that had fallen out of the cover of one of the books, digits snapping it up quickly, a once-over of the writing on the front bringing a frown to his face. The day had started out well at least. The looped writing was that of his father’s, which meant that once more Tobias had taken on the job of a secretarial delivery agent. It wasn’t something he particularly minded, he sometimes wished in fact that he’d do a better job of screening such mail as that he was now holding. He could always broach the subject of Tobias attempting to broaden his abilities in acting by pretending to be him via mail. Then he could both read and reply to the things. He looked up at his friend from the letter, dismissing the thought entirely as he did so. It wasn’t likely he’d want to accept that anyways. Who would? And besides, no matter how short his replies might be it didn’t change the fact that his father would have a fairly good chance of detecting the falsehood. Which meant he’d be replying to this one himself… much later. Wonderful. He stretched his arms behind him, reveling in the stretching of ligaments and muscles. He lifted his neck slightly, folding fingers together beneath before he lay his head down once more.

Tobias seemed to be otherwise occupied, his eyes roaming the pitch, and seeing that he was just as content to wait, Marcus closed his eyes once more, thoughts racing to the paper resting on his chest. Normally his father writing him was just another overture to conquer the divide that separated them now, an attempt to placate whatever feelings the older gentleman thought he might succeed at appealing to. A derisive snort sounded at the thought. Maybe one day it would be easier to answer the not-so-silent pleas. One day far, far down the road. Where he didn’t have to worry about incurring his mother’s wrath should he overstep his place once more. He’d have invented the magical music device he’d been planning a few moments before by then. Maybe even be living in his very own mansion, with a variety of hobbies to occupy his time. He grinned at the thought, the images painted behind his closed lids as farfetched as they were amusing. He always managed to stay cordial in his replies, if somewhat distant- something he stayed fairly proud of himself for. Never any roiling accusations in which he pointed out how much he’d let his sons down, in particular the youngest and eldest. Never any confrontational language that could even allow such a debate. He even managed to keep and snarky, satirical remarks from gracing the page. He wondered sometimes if that bothered him more, if some part of the man didn’t want Marcus to point out his obvious flaws and call him to task for it. It just wasn’t worth the effort on his part though, wasn’t worth the emotional drainage that would be sure to follow. His father was a pansy-assed-bottom-crawler and that was all there was to it. Telling him how much he had hurt Marcus wouldn’t do anything in the end, and if he were to ever say anything about it it would only serve as a victory to his dear old mum. No, he was content with leaving things the way they were. This was his last year, the final year that he had to stay in the house that contained him. He could even, feasibly, leave this year. Although without a job or a prospect of one, nevermind where he would live, it didn’t seem worth the hassle. He had learned to live with it fairly well; he didn’t see anyone questioning it anyways. That would only open up an entirely different can of worms. Bad enough he’d already disgraced the family’s name and ideals with his sorting… he’d hate to think what punishment would result from something as big as airing even the smallest of their family’s dirty little secrets. She might even go so far as to put a hit out on him, though he couldn’t see her giving the personal satisfaction over to someone else. Her eyes flashed behind his lids, the smirk she had been wearing decorating her face, gleaming in the dimmed lighting.

His eyes shot open at the image, golden globes lazily tracking his friend’s movements as he too settled himself on the ground. It was unlikely they’d be moving anytime soon, it wasn’t as if today had any great amount of things to distract them with. They could always go search Victoria out, though he felt an odd inclination to do such- something else held him back as well. That was happening more and more as of late. Maybe the deception he’d been letting her exist under was finally getting to him, the way he had to watch what it was that he might say or do becoming more of a strain than he consciously realized. While it didn’t seem like that was it in and of itself, it made some sort of sense. The brush of movement near him had him focusing once more, just in time for the accessory to the crown atop his head to come into view. “Some lady named 'Mandi' said this was for you?” His lips stretched as he lifted his head, letting one hand slide out from behind his neck to grasp the object, brandishing it above his head as it caught the light. “Ayai! I tol’ her I di’not need this one.” It didn’t stop the amusement from building though as he adjusted his other arm so he could better hold the crook of his neck with just the one appendage. She probably thought he was gay or something. It wouldn’t surprise him. He had, on more than one occasion, told her that he wasn’t interested in girls. Not that he’d meant it that way, but people were prone to idle, malicious gossip. “Makes me feel jus’ a wee bit too girly.” Nevermind that he’d been running with a crown decorating his brow. Or that last week he’d worn the shirt that had been dyed pink in his brother’s wash load the past summer. Those were both acceptable things. Scepters though… Made it seem like he was running for his very own pageant. His eyes found the blue hued set, waving the thing above him for emphasis. “Ye think she migh’not’ve gotten the wrong idea here?”

[Tobias Leberecht]

SOMETIMES I FIND IT HARD
• to believe there's someone else who could be •
JUST AS MESSED UP AS ME

It was just about the only occasion where people would really pay attention to him. Somehow, the bulk of the student body seemed to know that he was friends with Marcus, and that if something needed to get to the Ravenclaw Prefect, Tobias was going to be the best way to do it. He didn't garner much attention himself outside of it. Which, to be honest, was just fine with him. One got away with a lot more whenever one was able to fly under the radar. Granted, that meant most people thought of him as nothing more than an errand boy, but that was alright he figured, he was only going to be in school for a few more months now. Then, it was on to the real world where he could do as he pleased. He wasn't sure how Marcus was going to make his money after graduation, they hadn't gotten much past the fact that they were going to purchase a house or rent or something. A plan that was hardly ever voiced outside of the train home on breaks and summer vacation. They couldn't afford to have even a whisper of it get back to Marcus' mother. She had done enough to him already, but if she found out that he was planning to live with a muggle born after graduation, hell, that he was even friends with a muggle born...who knew what she was going to do to him. They didn't talk about Marcus' family very often, if ever, apart from Marcus' older brother. It just wasn't pleasant to ruminate on. Marcus had only been home over the summer holidays because he had to, he always came to Tobias' house for Christmas, just told his own family that he was staying at the school. Robert had come a time or two before, just to show support for Marcus he assumed, Robert never really seemed to be as at home in Tobias' house. To each their own, it was rather small and they weren't that close. Perhaps that was why Tobias had been so reluctant to give his friend the letter, he knew it was going to ruin his day, and by proxy, Tobias' own. He watched in silence as the boy glanced at the writing on the envelope. Curiosity ebbed at the corners of his mind, yes, it was a morbid subject...but that somehow just made it slightly more interesting.

If nothing else, Marcus' continued tolerance of his colorful family should ensure him a fair amount of money whenever they graduated, and since Tobias wasn't going to have much of any money to his name...he planned on selfishly clinging to his friends funds. Not that Marcus would mind, Tobias was a fairly cheap date all things considered. Shaking the negative out of his mind, Tobias' eyes refocused back onto the scenery around him. Few students meandering around the pitch, giving them strange looks, the only thing that Tobias found strange was that nobody was flying. It was what this arena was for, wasn't it after all? Flying? People were strange. He smiled at that thought about the same time that Marcus snorted. To any onlooker, it would just have to have seemed like they were having some sort of telekinetic conversation. It wouldn't be the first time that it would seem that he was reading his friend's mind. Merlin what a time saver that would be. “Ayai! I tol’ her I di’not need this one.” His grin stretched a bit wider at the comment. Just another stereotype about the two he figured. “Perhaps she's just a bit jealous?” He teased. It was a rather charming thing, didn't even look like it was made entirely of ten cent plastic either. Although, the feather frills might have been just a tad bit much. “Makes me feel jus’ a wee bit too girly.” Tobias' eyes rolled downward for just a second, hardly even acknowledging the comment. “Pretty Boy” his tone lofty, like his head was already up in the clouds, it just might have been. He could feel himself being pulled away, lifting up and out of his body, watching the whole thing happen. Not that this was particularly an important event. Their paths crossed multiple times a week, sometimes every day even. He just couldn't help himself sometimes...his mind wandered.

Something was shadowing his vision. No, waving in front of his face it seemed. Slowly, his eyes started to focus, it was the scepter, the feathers tickled his nose. “Ye think she migh’not’ve gotten the wrong idea here?” Words. Those were words, for a moment, his mouth hung open stupidly. His body visibly shook to snap back. “How long have you been talking?” He hadn't intentionally been ignoring him, really. His tone was earnestly curious. Apology was written across his face as he scanned the face of the lounging boy, his hands reached down to grasp the toes of his shoes, pulling his feet slightly closer to his body. “Terms are coming round, I say, we poly it. I'll take your potions as you, and you take the rest as me...” It would be just about the only hope that Tobias would have to pass anything other than potions honestly. He could whip up a polyjuice potion easily enough, he had just enough time too. He had never tried it before personally. Oh, he had brewed it often enough as homework..but he had never consumed it before, much less with a werewolf. Would that actually make any difference at all? Nah. The plan would never work.

TAGGED ! marcus
WORDS ! 933
OUTFIT ! CLICK
LYRICS ! sometimes by skillet
TEMPLATE ! PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION
NOTES ! -will get longer as it goes on I assume...