starlit troubles ft. sigurd

[LINUS CHANDLER BENOIT]

Stars were bright and intangible, yet were visible eons away from them. Without the sun bathing them in array of colors, the world around them was dim and pale. They were celestial beings at their finest, and example of things they would never be able to grasp without the help of magic.

Linus let out an uneasy breath as the cool water splashed against his feet. It was a little colder than he expected. Why wouldn’t it be? It was night. It was to be expected. Forcing himself to stand, he wondered what time it must have been. The nap was long enough for the moon and the stars to peer through the sky, so it was late enough to be past curfew. (Did it even matter? Not particularly.) He glanced around for his belongings. If he was lucky, they hadn’t been taken by whatever mischievous beings were around the lake. He had heard of merpeople lurking beneath the waters of Black Lake but had yet to greet them. The darkness might be the best way to find them, but that wasn’t what he was there for.

Blue eyes rested on a stray log nearby on the grass. A pair of shoes – his shoes – was there. He’d left them there earlier, so they wouldn’t get wet. Barely drying his feet on the grass as he walked towards the log, he shoved on his socks and shoes back on. He thought about his assignment. The teacher had allowed them to go about anywhere for this assignment and the castle wasn’t as quiet as he wanted. Besides, weren’t stars meant to be gazed lying on the grass beneath them? Staying indoors would have been boring, even if this was a bit more energy than he wanted to spend.

It wasn’t long before he heard something at the distance. Idly, he slipped a hand to his wand, prepared to strike if it had been some sort of creature. However, his grip loosened at the sight of a familiar mop of hair and fell back onto the log. It wasn't an enemy. It was his friend, Sigurd. The very same one he was working on this assignment with. (For once I’m not the one who’s) He yawned, though he wasn’t even the least bit tired. “You’re late,” came the lazy comment towards his partner’s arrival. It was already nine at night, the time the professor suggested they started on this assignment.

As he moved, he found the rest of his belongings, hitting his leg. On the other side of the log, there was a satchel laying against it. Two golden telescopes were sticking out of the bag, far too large to hide without magic to expand the confines of the satchel. Linus allowed it to lean against his leg and pulled out the things they were going to need. A notebook to keep track of them all, a quill that wrote by itself, and the two telescopes. “Gaard.” He looked up, holding one of the telescopes in hand. “Catch.”

He looked back to the stars he woke up to and took a deep breath. “The stars are brighter than normal tonight.” Though his words had started off choppy, he was willing to try to shake it off for a friend. “Which ones should we find?” He knew Sigurd was having trouble with this class, and since it was only the two of them, he had no trouble relaxing and focusing on their assignment.

[sigurd bastien asgaard]

[classy=writesig]he knows what are and aren't his forte by his seventh year at hogwarts, and he knows what to do for each class to pass them. he doesn't share all his classes with a close friend of his, and so, he has to make up for whatever he doesn't with twice the effort put in. yet, as much as he worked, he never seems to have his diligence pay off in grades or achievements. just a little more, asgaard, and you might have achieved an E, his teachers have once told him. and until this very day, he remembers. the subjects he has E's for are subjects he shares with linus.

instead of meeting up at the tower's base as they usually did for their astronomy homework, the two of them each had their own matters to attend to today. sigurd didn't put it past himself to remain for long in the common room without being subjected to the likes of malfoy; he had not returned to the dungeons after dinner, and sent linus an owl, telling him to bring the necessary equipment.

the lake's ripples quietly lap against the shore and a figure sitting by the edge of the lake. sigurd stretches, shifting the gym bag over his left shoulder to the other one. tonight, the stars were bright; he can almost see the reflected starlight off the surface of the lake as he walks closer. a part of him understands why linus chose the black lake to complete their assignment; it certainly bests even the tallest tower for stargazing, never mind the extra effort both teens put in while at the lake's edge.

no, i'm sigurd. the slytherin smirks as he joins his friend. he kicks off his shoes and seats himself on the other end of the log, next to where linus is resting his head. he places the bag by the side of the log, and catches the telescope with ease. so i'm gaard now? he chuckles under his breath and nudges his friend with the tip of his foot. ... linus, get up. can't do it like this. shaking his head, he got off the log and started setting up the telescopes on the patch of grass.

hm? he mutters in response as he sets up the tripod for the telescope, then he glances up. oh. yeah, i guess. not as bright as your eyes, though. he pauses and leans back on the log, done with the telescope for now. it's always been a mutual understanding between the two of them that he draws the star charts and maps them, while the ravenclaw - intelligence being their main characteristic - looked out for the stars and constellations. they'd been doing it for almost seven years now.

let's start slow. get the hard part out of the way. he reaches over grabs linus' satchel. he pulls it towards him, and from it, grabs his friend's textbook. it's clean, and undamaged in any way, like he'd just took it out from its shrinkwrap. the benoit keeps his books well, or perhaps, sigurd thinks to himself as he smirks, or he never has had a use for them. he shoves the pack aside as he flips open his textbook.

he peers over the neatly-typed lines in the book, trying to find the necessary content to help them with the assignment. the words seem to mean nothing to him; the asgaard furrows his brows and stares at the textbook in contempt. i don't know. you're the ravenclaw. he sighs, and leans back against the log, gradually sliding down to lay next to linus.

if only they could lie here all night, not doing any homework but keeping each other company under the canopy of stars until morning came.[/classy]

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[LINUS CHANDLER BENOIT]

He groaned in protest, although he didn’t get up just yet. “Do I have to?” Linus muttered. “No one cares.” There was a reason why they picked Black Lake. It was quiet, secluded, and, most of all, no one cared if there were people lying on the ground staring at the sky. There was no one around to complain and/or scold them. It wasn’t as if he didn’t need to sit up like a proper gentleman to get things done, but Sigurd needed to be able to see the stars for himself. It was a problem that Linus already found a simple solution for. The constellations were simple to find as long as one had a guide. While one normally used the northern star to guide them, Sigurd wouldn’t be able to find even that. Linus chuckled quietly. Instead, he was Sigurd’s. “If you lie beside me, I can point them all out for you.”

Languidly, he rolled himself onto his stomach and watched as the slytherin set up their equipment. “You wouldn’t have to set up the telescope.” It was pointless to have two of them if only one of them was going to search the night skies and the other jot down their charts. They would be using the same equipment the entire time, merely sharing the telescope once Linus had found just the right spot for Sigurd to direct his attention.

Not at all surprised by his friend’s comment, Linus smirked slightly, “Thanks for noticing.” As emphasis, he fluttered his eyelashes girlishly. Even at his age, he still acted like a child. It was easier around the slytherin and release his inhibitions. The day didn’t seem as boring as it felt. It didn't change how he felt about having to do this work instead of just lying here in the sand and soil watching the night sky. It seemed more productive than doing homework, not that it made any sense.

Rolling back to his back again, he stared up at the stars. A hand was placed over his forehead pointlessly, as if it were trying to block away the shine. He listened to the slytherin dig through his things for what else they needed. It was close, which meant he was close. Linus held a hand out to the map master. “… Only if you give me a hand.”

[sigurd bastien asgaard]

[classy=writesig]i do. he looks at linus, frowning slightly as the other boy relaxes against the log. there was barely any distance between them; on nights like these, it felt as if there was nothing that separated them. there's little discussion between the two as to what to do next; he didn't need words to know what the other was thinking, and linus almost always seems to know what he feels at any given moment. if it wasn't for the sorting hat -- but fate has an uncanny way of bringing lives together. right, right. he slides down, and now lays next to linus.

he shifts, placing his hands behind his head as he stares up at the prussian blue night. so tell me. he stops speaking, and tries to discern the stars from each other. they all look the same to sigurd; nothing seems to change even as time passes. be it spring, summer, autumn or winter -- he cannot see a difference in the stars, but he has the ability to chart them well. perhaps this is why he has linus. he needs him. the other boy helps him, guides him to do what he cannot alone. sigurd knows this.

well, that's wasted effort then. he mumbles beneath his breath, just loud enough for linus to hear. he glances at his neighbor, and smirks. always the smart one ... it's why he's not in slytherin. the tinny voice in sigurd's head speaks up, and he brings up the mysterious names of constellations he can't recognize in his mind to ignore the small voice. so which part needs attention? by now, his gaze settles on a particularly bright star; he doesn't know what its name is, nor what role it plays in the constellation, but he likes the way it looks.

he feels movement on his side and he glances in that direction; he is greeted by the sight of linus batting his eyelashes at him. i know everything i need to about you, linus. he snorts slightly, laughter catching in his throat as he reaches out to linus' shoulder and pushing him down to the grass, his hand on his chest giving a forceful shove. it usually is easy to overpower the ravenclaw; sigurd is taller, stronger.

under his fingers, he feels linus roll back to his previous position, and sigurd relaxes. he removes the heavy textbook from pressing down on him, shifting to a more comfortable position that accommodated his longer body. you do know -- it is at this moment that linus' hand makes contact with him, and he jolts under his touch. linus had caught him off-guard.

recovering quickly, a smirk etches itself on sigurd's visage as he glances down at linus. impatient, are we? his throat rumbles with the beginning of quiet, amused laughter. that's quite unlike you. he exhales, then glances at the lone, shining star that caught his eye before. is that really what you want? he quirks an eyebrow. you sure you want nothing more than a hand?[/classy]

[LINUS CHANDLER BENOIT]

He glances at the slytherin, a taut smirk playing across his lips. If you know everything you need to know about me, “you should know what I want.” Linus looks away, back to the stars. He yawns once more. It’s far too early to feel fatigued. The last thing he needed was for Sigurd to nitpick at his stamina. Being as lazy as he was, his stamina was minimal and his frame matched that. In comparison to the slytherin, he was a small fry. It suited them. It made it all the more amusing when the stronger teen was under his mercy – in terms of their marks at least.

“I’m not impatient.” Linus comments, as he scans the night sky for the first constellation. He supposed he should teach the snake how to catch a star. The sooner they finished this assignment, the sooner they could relax … and he wasn’t the one who needed the marks. His marks could take the hit just fine (though he wouldn’t doubt that he would be assigned something terrible to do instead). In contrary to what some believed, he wasn’t an entirely terrible friend. Or the fact that suddenly failing the very last year and being held back was something he found completely and utterly ridiculous. He wasn’t about to graduate from this place without the snake.

Taking a deep breath, he moved closer to his friend and pointed a steady hand towards the sky. He pointed at the largest and brightest one, lighting even their faces from the faraway distance. It was the one that Sigurd had been staring at. “This is our marker.” It was the starter star that everyone started with to find all the other constellations. For him, it was the plainest one in the sky, the most boring and typical star in the sky, “the North Star.”

His index finger dragged across the night sky, only stopping at each of the stars along the constellation to point them out. The ostentatious star was followed up with a just as typical constellation. “Ursa Minor.” The little bear. He turned to Sigurd, examining his expression, waiting for him to move. “Aren’t you going to write that down?” It wasn’t his part of their work. He was just finding them, helping the slytherin in finding the stars. Charts were a pain. He leaned back on the ground again, yawning once more. His eyes closed and, faintly, he could hear the quill scribble on the parchment. It was surprisingly comfortable on the ground. It might have been the sand and dirt, just the right blend was beneath them.

The telescope behind them still set up and waiting was left forgotten and abandoned. If they were going to follow through with Linus’ method, it was going to stay there for the rest of the night until they were done in the same spot, entirely untouched. Only after they were done for the night and gathering their things would the scope be remembered and packed.

[sigurd bastien asgaard]

[classy=writesig]what? sigurd smirks at the ravenclaw. some rest after we're done? he exhales, laughing slightly. talking to someone is one thing; talking to a friend is another. he follows linus' gaze across the night sky, and fails to see what his friend does. he narrows his eyes, his exhale particularly strong and somewhat perplexed. he sees nothing, nothing of importance beyond that first and only star that shines brighter than he others. he knows by now that he isn't cut out for astronomy; he doesn't doubt the fact that he probably isn't going to make it for potions, where classes are between the serpents and griffins.

he almost gives up after seeing no such shapes or forms in the skies, but his attention is kept rooted to the task by linus' body pressing against his side. what's a marker? his voice is barely above a whisper, two parts unsure of himself, three parts cursing himself for not knowing what that is despite seven years of study. (not being good at something meant being complete shit at it -- he did not lie when he said blatantly ripped a test in half because all he could see in the accursed dots were ... well, dots.) that's north? he squints at the bright star.

despite his question, he doesn't doubt linus. his friend hasn't been wrong since the time he assumed he was a pure-blood. come to think of it, linus wasn't wrong about that -- sigurd had shook his head despite the sudden burning in his throat and urge to just silence the boy from speaking any further.

-- i will, but wait. sigurd's lip disappears under his teeth. he is seated upright now, the chart unrolled and spread across his knees. the self-writing quill stands at attention on the parchment, hopping aside with interesting sentience when the movement of his legs crease the paper slightly. ursa minor? he reaches over to take linus' hand in order to draw the same line he did across the sky. his fingers snake around the raven's wrist, and he pulls the invisible line across the night sky. this, right?

he takes the yawn as an agreement, and turns to the chart. i'm putting it in. a few quick notes later, the constellation is charted on the parchment, several dots filling the map before magically glowing as they would in the sky. the north star burns obnoxiously bright; yet, sigurd can't help but stare at it as it blinked once -- just a trick of the light. across the lake, the giant squid rises, a tentacle breaking the calm surface of the lake before disappearing just as suddenly.

there. he exhales through his mouth, the paper rustling as he mutters a spell to roll it up again to prevent creasing. finding it a chore, the slytherin tosses the chart aside, letting it roll to a halt next to their bags. he moves back into lying next to linus, and rolls over to lean on his side. it doesn't make any sense charting the constellations - to him, anyway - when there were easier, better alternatives to finding one's way. he used to envy linus for being better than him at everything, but now, he's surrendered himself to linus -- a snake snared in the claws of a raven.

he's accepted it, acknowledged it. they needed each other, as it always has been in their years at hogwarts.[/classy]

[celeste trista aurelia]

[classy=celtext1][classy=celicon1][/classy]Ah, how the woman despised her work. The job itself was quite wonderful, she had to admit -- what other occupation could boast an endless supply of little younglings to victimize, who even came back on a regular basis? -- but the woman absolutely hated the fact that she had to come up with lesson plans and homework and other such nonsense. People learned by observing, by seeing and watching and doing, and anyone who put stock in purely written tests must have been addled by a horde of deranged pixies. (Well, and Celeste was lazy. It was almost as much work to grade as it was to be a student.)

Placing the quill back in the inkpot full of color-changing ink, the professor irritatedly tossed a fishbowl out of the nearest window. She didn't even wait to hear the satisfying crash as the glass shattered against the ground, floors down. If she read another essay saying 'the sun is the biggest star in the universe' or starting with the words 'the planet Moon,' she was going to toss these papers out with the fishbowl. (Nobody was going to be out and about at this hour, anyway; and she was sure a fishbowl to the head wouldn't cause too much damage.) She contemplated continuing with her grading tonight, then decided against it and stood up.

"What to do?" she mused. There was always the option of going out to Knockturn and visting a few friends, buut she had early-morning classes the next day. (Whoever came up with the idea of 'early-morning classes' should be hexed.) The woman frowned. The night was young and she was confined to Hogwarts' grounds -- how dull. Students would be in their common room, if not asleep, at this point; how in the world was she suppoed to amuse herself now?

Her eyes fell on a pile of students' star charts. "... Ah." Celeste smirked. There was always that. With graceful, well-practiced movements, the woman jumped out of the open window and took to the air. The rush of cool wind beneath her wings was enough to make the woman sigh (inwardly). Perfection. That is what an owl was. Right now, she was not Celeste Aurelia, the professor, or the unnamed girl on the streets of Abdijan -- she was an elegant shape cutting through the night sky, a predator who was quieter than a spider's whisper.

If she had a mouth, she would have smiled and laughed at herself. Since when have I been so wonderfully poetic? How unlike her; perhaps the stress of wading through the inane ramblings of her students had finally gotten to her. Then her yellow eyes caught sight of two figures down by the lake, her ear-holes picking up their words. Was she mistaken, or were her students getting even closer to each other than she thought, here in the cover of darkness? (That or they were just being friends; Celeste wanted to pretend it was the former. It was more amusing that way.) The woman was vaguely disappointed when they returned to her assignment, but she didn't let the feeling linger for too long.

Turning her wings downward, she entered into a steep dive, aimed for the two teenagers; in a streak of white and a flurry of feathers, she extended her talons and neatly landed on Sigurd's shoulder. (Why were these two laying down next to each other? Ohoho, was there something naughty between the two of them?) So what if I let my imagination run away with me sometimes, the rational part of her brain told the rest of her. It simply makes things that much more adorable.

Ignoring her internal debate, Celeste hooted cordially in greeting, briefly forgetting that she had never told her students about being a animagus. Oops.

ooc: for linus and sigurd! if it isn't clear by now, celeste kind of ships sigurd/linus lol. nbd. I hope this post is okay?
edit! I meant animagus, not metapmorphagus. "orz[/classy][newclass=celtext1]font-size: 10px; width: 350px; text-align: justify[/newclass][newclass=celtext1 b]font-weight: bold; color: #665577[/newclass][newclass=celicon1]float: left; margin: 5 8 1 0; border: 3px solid #665577;[/newclass]

[LINUS CHANDLER BENOIT]

Linus finds the assignment relaxing when it was done this way. The sand and soil beneath his head is soothing in comparison to sitting at the table, desk, chair, or whatever other type of furniture there was indoors. There's no clattering of feet. No flipping of pages or chattering gossip of the students and teachers of Hogwarts. Even the ghosts took their toll.

He could almost close his eyes and --

Ah, right. Sigurd's voice wakes him up. The slytherin had jotted down what he said. They were here to finish their work. He needed to focus.

He feels Sigurd shift next to him and raises a hand to the sky once more. The ravenclaw trails from the first constellation they recorded to the next. He moves slowly, deliberately. Linus wants Sigurd to understand this and be able to learn how to find each one. The constellation he chooses is another simple one: the large bear. "Ursa Major."

Then it came. An owl greeted them, resting on Sigurd's shoulder. He doesn't react normally to the strange bird. There's no flailing or panicking as some would do. No angrily sending the bird away. Instead, he finds it peculiar. The owl appeared accustomed to them but carried no message. He did not look like one of his families carrier birds neither of Sigurd's. Nor should it be wild. The snowy coat were rare to find this south of the line. He regarded the creature carefully.

"You attract all the birds." Linus commented under his breath as he forced himself to sit up. It was a pain. A literal bird was disrupting their homework. Whatever the bird was doing there, it's talons weren't something to joke about. They were sharp -- a hunter's tool to snatch and kill. They snapped the necks of animals. They bit into their flesh.

He supposed he should send the owl away or at the very least off of his friend. "Off 'im, would you." He urged the bird haphazardly.

[sigurd bastien asgaard]

[classy=writesig]ursa major. right, he can do this. he takes another deep breath and holds the quill in his hand this time. he's doing it himself, drawing the lines on his own. he doesn't need the quill to draw anything beyond the basic outline for him, convenient as it may be. he always drew his charts by hand, especially when detail is concerned -- there are always things that humans did better than sentient life, and drawing happens to be one of them. he puts down ursa major in the chart, finding it easier to follow linus' thinking now that they have both done it together once.

engrossed in the charts he can draw but never understand, sigurd's gaze is focused on the ink and lines across the night sky, and so is his attention. he fails to notice the owl until it lands on his shoulder. the cool sharpness of the talons are plain against his skin, but he isn't worried as it doesn't seem to be hostile. the claws do not dig into his skin, just his clothing. how odd for it to be a snowy owl though; he glances at its feet once, twice. no letter or note, and definitely no howler.

it puzzles him. snowy owls aren't native, or particularly common in this area. britain may be cold and dreary, but it isn't frigid or snowy all year long. i suppose. easily, naturally, he agrees with the ravenclaw. snakes are a raven's natural prey. his eyes fall on linus; it's quite the accurate way to represent the both of them. he isn't too sure how their first meeting started off, but it's been seven years -- seven years worth of misadventures and next year, no more. nothing.

he turns away from his thoughts as linus shoos the bird away. willing himself to focus on the other boy's voice, instead of the vagueness of his feelings, he echoes his sentiment. yeah, go away. owlery's not far. his words are half-hearted, unlike linus' serious tone. he's above concern for a bird, but not above concern for schoolwork and a friend. go on, linus.

[/classy]