poly_chromatic | (no subject)

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oc - saya wallace

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I don't usually say this, but is anyone else just through with revising? At this point, if I finish the work or not, I feel like I'm not going to learn anything else.

Anyway, who has plans for Quidditch this weekend? Anyone want to go with me?

[ooc: replies from

instars - Miss Wallace is a sixth year half-blood Ravenclaw, not on the Quidditch team, feel free to say your character has classes or sees her around school! She also has a bad tendency to get called out for wearing non-regulation shoes, but she cannot help it, she loves her heels!]

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Oh, I know how to do that, but you'll find the beaters don't appreciate it when we meddle with their bludgers.

[She nudges in closer, obligingly.]

You're already thinking about exams?

I hate to say it, but our beaters let the team down somewhat.

[But he is saying it because there are bruises under the blue and grey.]

And I've thought about them. A little.

[Her fingers are experts at finding them.]

Are we too cerebral for violence?

[She nods]

My father sent me a letter about it. How if I want, the headmaster will simply put my qualifications in muggle terms, how I can still go to University in the muggle world.

[And he lets his breath catch between his teeth each time.]

That depends. Did you say yes to the Puff?

[And then his smile takes on a false quality. It, too, gets caught between his teeth.]

Good of him to let you know.

He promises to stay incognito.

[But her hands are on his shoulders, she's not really interested in the Puff.]

Do you think it's a bad idea? I'm not as purely bred as you. I worry about finding a good job.

You said yes to the Puff.

[He's not overly threatened, but he's not as adept at games as she is. He knows, though, that he'll be expected to play a role in this one. And it bothers him just enough to trigger the nervous habit he has of worrying at his lip.

Well, not just the Puff part.]

You're as good as I am. [Words rarely said.] The world isn't entirely run by old men from old bloodlines anymore.

He'll be all Puffy.

[She...doesn't actually know his name.]

Old bloodlines still mean something.

[The truth is that she's still hesitant, with her accent declaring so much of who she is. She can fake it, put on Chase's accent, but it's strange, it sounds wrong. Part of her hasn't built the confidence, yet.]

You don't think I should.

And you think that's hot?

[He rests his chin on her shoulder, it helps to cut the eye contact.]

I could tell you exactly what old bloodlines mean. But once you pick one world it gets harder to pass in the other. You know that, right?

I think you're hot.

[She puts one hand on the back of his head, her fingers in his hair.]

Maybe I should go back to Africa. Learn local magic.

[Although she doesn't fit in there, either.]

He'll have fertiliser under his fingernails.

[That's nice. It could almost be comfortable but it's not, right now.]

So the choice is muggle or Africa?

So I shouldn't let him touch me?

[She shrugs a little]

Maybe not. Maybe I have another option. Do you think you'll still want me in a year and a half?

[She's teasing, a bit. But there's more honesty in that question than she'll admit.]

[He'll hold his answer to the first question for now, and straighten his shoulders, look up at her.]

Do you know, I don't often get asked what I want. My family never ask. I think it might be because they're afraid I'll say you.

Well, what do you want, then?

Not what they want.

[It's a stupid idea to plan a year and a half ahead, isn't it. Sentimental rather than rational.]

I think I'd like to travel. To Africa, if you're there. Or you could come with me, anywhere. Everywhere. We could practice this summer, if you still want me by then. I'm certain I'll still want you.

You would come with me to Namibia? It's terribly hot, you might not enjoy it.

[But then maybe he would.]

I could travel with you. See what people are inventing using magic around the world.

[Blame his pale complexion on the current climate. He'd handle the heat.]

That sounds like it might be an option.

[His father will hate it.]

[She's very, very quiet for a moment, so still-]

I love you, Robert.

[She's ducking her head, blushing a bright, vibrant red.]

[What exams, what quidditch match.

What.

What's he supposed to do with this girl in his lap what was that a joke what. What.

Don't say what out loud, Robert.

(Maybe he mouths it.)]

I- [Still thinks maybe he's missed something because that can't be right] I do too. Love you. Too.

[And he breathes out quick, trying to check he said all the right words in a vague sort of order.]

I want you to do what you want. Just, somewhere I can reach you.

[She looks up, kisses him, swallows some of those words, and parts and smiles, a real smile.]

You can always reach me. Don't you know that? If you say the word I'll come and find you.

Even if you're being a muggle and answering correspondence in an office square or something?

[He doesn't really know what they do all day.]

I wouldn't do that. I would go and become an engineer. Make things. Build new, tricky little things.

[She shakes her head.]

I don't think I'll go into the muggle, anyway.

I wouldn't give you up. [Though he'd probably be disinherited.] But I think you're too good at making tricky little magics to waste it.

You don't think I could impress you father?

If anyone could, it might be you.

[That's a little flat. It's not him.]

[She shrugs]

It's only my concern if it makes him accept that I'm not going anywhere.