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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Feb 14, 2010 23:11:36 GMT -5
How did she? Quinn had to think about that, about how she was able to do the things she did, in spite of the connotations. "I make rules," she said truthfully. "When I work I make sure I don't do anything the way that he did it. When I bought the shop it took me a long time, to make that first wand. Sometimes it's still hard, but I take a break, and remember all of the reasons that I love it." She closed her eyes, her face moving to serene lines.
"I remember how the balance of force and gentleness it takes to create something as delicate as a wand. How important it is to get the perfect core for the wood, the almost instinctual calling of the pairing." Her lips curved, "I remember the way the wood looks and feels right before I start creating my designs, and the smell of the wood when it's exposed to the air." She shrugged, "the details help my remember why I love it, and it's usually enough to keep going. If it's not, then I wait until it is, I never rush myself."
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Post by Trent Frey on Feb 14, 2010 23:18:23 GMT -5
Lyric was silent at that. It didn't help at all, there was no way to apply it to the issues he had. Making wands was good, it was productive. It was something people needed, and there was nothing wrong with her for making them. He felt like a freak because he was a freak, enjoying things that made him feel disgusting, because they were wrong. He couldn't relate it because he shouldn't be doing those things anyway. He didn't need to pass on his mental sickness to others, didn't need to taint them, too. He zipped his bag firmly shut.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Feb 14, 2010 23:25:23 GMT -5
Lyric was quite again, and when he was quite she worried that she'd said or done something wrong. In the past she would have let the silence fill the moment, but he'd almost jumped off of the tower today. "Mostly, I do what I want, because it feels good, right. I know, it didn't feel right before, but it's different, I'm making the choices. And as long as they feel right, I'll keep making them. I won't fight myself, who I am. I guess that's why I can't stop talking sometimes, because it feels good to be able to say what I'm thinking, what I'm feeling."
She didn't always feel that way, and there were people that she hadn't been able to talk to. "It helps, to know, that you won't hate me if I say something wrong." She knew she should stop talking, but she was nervous in his silence. "No matter what you do Lyric, I won't hate you for it either."
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Post by Trent Frey on Feb 14, 2010 23:28:09 GMT -5
On impulse, Lyric leaned over his bag, pressing his lips firmly to Quinn's. Shut up. He knew he could handle this if it didn't go too far, and it wouldn't. He wasn't interested in pushing it the way he had for Jory. He'd tried so hard to make Jory happy and it had blown up in his face, he wouldn't do it again. But as long as she didn't touch him, he could make himself part his lips against hers. Just stop talking.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Feb 14, 2010 23:38:32 GMT -5
Warm but dry lips pressed against hers, startling her out of what she had intended to keep saying. Quinn's eyes widened briefly in shock, he'd never kissed her before when they were sober. It had all been done under the cover of whatever he was giving her that made them both feel so good. She couldn't describe it to herself, the feeling that unfurled knowing that he was kissing her without him being sober as Jory had called it.
She knew that touching was out, had thought this might fall under touching, but she couldn't discount what he was doing. She let her eyes flutter closed, taking the moment to feel what she didn't exactly remember while she was on whatever Lyric had given her. Her lips pressed back against his, softly but firmly, memorizing their shape and feel against her own. The slight breeze carrying the faint sent of Lyric past her, enhancing everything about the moment.
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Post by Trent Frey on Feb 15, 2010 0:13:18 GMT -5
They were so close that it was almost unbearable, and the spark of sensation, of even that small contact, sent Lyric's blood screaming. He wouldn't force it, though. He wouldn't give that much of himself to anyone again, and so the kiss couldn't last. It was enough to quiet her, enough to feel the change in her and enough to get a taste of something he only vaguely recalled before it got to be too much. Just a taste of her and he broke away, breathless from even that much. His head was spinning, and he felt sick again, whether from self-disgust or the drugs he couldn't tell. "I'm sorry," he whispered. He'd just end up pulling her farther in and breaking her the way he'd broken Jory. I was broken before I met you. But that didn't mean she was safe.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Feb 15, 2010 0:17:59 GMT -5
The daze of sensations swirled around her and it took a moment for the two words to penetrate through her mind. Quinn brought her fingers up to her lips to touch them, "don't ever be sorry for that Lyric," she whispered back to him. "I like getting to kiss you, and as long as you like it too, then never be sorry." Her eyes fluttered back open to look at the grey form of his body, wishing in the dark that she could see the soft brown of his eyes, fall into them.
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Post by Trent Frey on Feb 15, 2010 0:44:32 GMT -5
As long as you like it too... But Lyric didn't know if he liked it. He did, at least part of him did, but he felt so guilty for the part of him that liked it and the part of him that wanted it. He always had. He wanted to offer her something from his box, to go find the Room of Requirement so that he could say yes, he liked it, and have it be the truth. There was part of him that had wanted so much more, but he saw flashes of his mother in his mind, felt ghost touches. He shook his head, but even he wasn't sure what it meant.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Feb 15, 2010 0:51:12 GMT -5
This silence wasn't the same stark oppressive silence that she had felt filling the tower moments ago. She knew he was thinking, but hoped it was good thoughts, good feelings. "Lyric," she said softly, "I don't know what happened to you. But I won't ever force anything from you, only what you're comfortable with." She forced herself to stand up even though she wanted to sit back down, and tilted her head to the sky, spinning in a circle as she looked up at the stars. "Tonight is to beautiful to do anything but enjoy getting to see it." The sky was painted in soft hanging globes of color, sparkling down on the occupants of the world.
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Post by Trent Frey on Feb 15, 2010 1:09:39 GMT -5
Lyric didn't see the beauty that Quinn saw. He saw a dark sky that hadn't faded over him the way he'd wanted it to. He saw an empty blackness filled with sparks of light that glared at him in accusation. She was always twirling, wasn't she? He didn't understand how she could hate herself the way he hated himself and dance like that. He didn't understand her optimism or being able to do something that reminded her of things. He watched her, but no epiphany came to him.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Feb 15, 2010 1:29:00 GMT -5
It didn't take much effort for Quinn to put herself into a position where she didn't think about the things that harmed her. It seemed natural to just move on, when she was happy she was happy, when she was upset, she was upset, there was no overlap, and it worked that way. She couldn't remember if it had always been that way, it just was now. "When I look into the stars, I see endless opportunities. I wonder what it's like for the muggle aeronauts when they fly to new worlds."
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Post by Trent Frey on Feb 15, 2010 1:38:22 GMT -5
Lyric didn't know what aeronauts were, but it probably all came back to her optimism. He listened, but he didn't feel like speaking and ruining whatever moment she was having with herself. I see death, and the stars are pinpricks where life from some better world I'll never see bleeds through. He almost wished he could act as oblivious as she did. "The Astronomy class is going to be here at midnight," Lyric interrupted. He didn't know what time it was, but he didn't want to stay long enough to find out the hard way.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Feb 15, 2010 1:42:50 GMT -5
Lyric's words lingered on the air for a moment as Quinn slowly took her gaze away from the stars. She looked down where Lyric was sitting, a soft smile gracing her face, and the soft glow of stars reflected in her eyes. "Where do you want to go then?" She really didn't want to lose him, like she'd lost him for the last month. When she'd left him, he was feeling alright, but when she'd found him. She shook of the thought, putting it where it belonged, and waited for his answer.
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Post by Trent Frey on Feb 15, 2010 1:55:59 GMT -5
Lyric's mind wouldn't have gone where it went if it wasn't for the look in her eyes. As it was, thoughts he'd already had and pushed down struggled for recognition. He wanted to relax completely, to clear his mind thoroughly and forget that any of this had happened. "The Room of Requirement," he said, his head tilted appraisingly as he looked at her. He grabbed his bag and got to his feet, then slung the strap over his shoulder. "You coming?" he asked.
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Post by Quinn Ashwinder on Feb 15, 2010 2:02:48 GMT -5
The challenge send a thrill through her, before she'd followed, now it was agreeing to something more than she had before. She had more knowledge, knew a bit more, if not a lot more than she had about Lyric a few hours ago. Did she take this opportunity, or did she turn it down, knowing that it would be a hard road, and one that she wouldn't always understand. But she looked over the length of him, tall, skinny, in some moments soft and vulnerable, and in others...not. Quinn's lips curled, "Always."
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