an [unnatural] disaster

James Callum-Monroe
Second Year
Joined: Nov 10 2011, 04:45 PM

Apr 3 2012, 07:18 PM #1

((OOC: This thread takes place directly after [url=http://N.E.W.T. Level DADA))
  • Out, out, out. James needed out. Out of that classroom, out of the castle, just out. The seventh year felt as though he were going to puke. Was this how people normally felt when they faced a boggart? Was this normal? Of course not. What a stupid question. What was normal about any of this? What kind of freak saw himself when he looked at a boggart? What had to be so wrong with his mind that he feared himself over anything else? He had to be insane. That was all there was to it. There were so many other things in the world to be afraid of—huge beasts that could rip the lion limb from limb, natural disasters that could destroy everything he held dear. There were hundreds of phobias, thousands of phobias. Acrophobia, Arachnophobia, Anglophobia—though that one would be just as problematic—and that was just the A’s. Why, of all the possible options, did the seventeen year old have to be afraid of himself?

    James stumbled out the door into the courtyard, breathing hard as thought he’d run a mile. His whole body was shaking. He needed to sit down. He needed to…

    The seventh year’s thoughts were cut off but a sudden wave of nausea. James dove for the bushes near the castle wall, reaching them just before vomit surged up his throat and he had no choice but to empty his stomach on ground. The boy reeled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Classy. At least the Gryffindor was used to puking in the bushes. With a disgusted grunt, the lion pushed away from the wall, moving to one of the benches a good distance away from the door. James dropped onto the hard stone, propping his elbows on his knees and covered his face with his hands. This was ridiculous. It occurred to the boy that he said this every time something bothered him, but it really was this time. It wasn’t just the boggart—well, it was, but it was this reaction to it. He shouldn’t want to just curl up into a ball and disappear somewhere. What the hell was wrong with him? There had to be something seriously wrong with a person who was afraid of themselves. That wasn’t healthy. That wasn’t normal. Ergo, there was something seriously wrong with the Gryffindor. There just had to be.</li>
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Ninja!Kendall:BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA... I am hijacking your sig. Because you are awesome. I love James. And Steph. Yes. Awesomeness. <333
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Catherine Henson
First Year
Joined: Mar 30 2012, 12:38 PM

Apr 3 2012, 08:35 PM #2

Catherine let out a breath of relief. She liked classes, and Defence Against the Dark Arts was one of her favourites. This particular class had been rather big on the emotional side, however, and even though most of it didn’t have to do with Catherine it was still there. Emotional heavy classes affected everyone in it. From start to finish it had been a roller-coaster of emotions. From the teacher who had seen a hag of a woman, turned into a more beautiful version of the same woman, to James who had seen himself and had walked out, further along to Samuel who had also seen himself and had attacked the Boggart with a very fiery spell and then to her. She had faced her own demons and had then retreated to let other students go and, even though her outward face had stayed composed and smiling in her usual way, had completely let the rest of the class pass her by.

This one was the few times that she was glad that a class was over. She breathed in again and decided that she wanted some more air before heading to her next class. She smiled with one corner of her mouth turned up more and winked at a few friends that she saw in the hallway. She didn’t slow down, though, because she didn’t want to be caught up in conversation. The dark haired girl needed some fresh air first.

Pushing open the front doors she let the sun fall on her face. She closed her eyes to enjoy it for a small moment before completely heading out. Her eyes roved over the courtyard for a spot where she could sit in solitude and take a breather. Her brows knitted as she spotted a familiar figure. She was surprised that he was alone. Then she saw that he was sitting with his head in his hands staring at the ground between his feet. She cocked her head and tapped with the fingers of her right hand against her upper leg as she regarded him. She decided that he looked too dishevelled for himself. Catherine would never claim to really know James or to be friends with him. It was just that she had seen him around in class.

That he was sitting alone could mean (one of) two things. That his friends, or normal comfort people at the least, hadn’t found him yet or the people who had approached him were shoved away by him. Catherine decided that he looked to be too caught up in himself to have already shooed people away. She breathed in and also decided that talking with him about the class that he had walked out of might be just the thing that she needed to get that breather that she had wanted. She sauntered to the bench where he was sitting and sat down next to him. She leant back, deciding that her easy air might help in comforting him. “I am not going to be stupid and needlessly asking if you are alright. You’re clearly not. What I am going to ask is if you want to talk about it? I can at least lend you an ear if you want one. I won’t judge, I promise. Or, I could first tell you about my Boggart if that would help put you at ease and put us on even ground.”

There, she had given him the proposal. How he would take it would be up to him.
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James Callum-Monroe
Second Year
Joined: Nov 10 2011, 04:45 PM

Apr 4 2012, 03:23 PM #3

James had no idea how long he’d been sitting on that bench. Long enough that his body was starting to ache from being hunched over like this while sitting on the hard stone, but not so long class had let out yet. At least, the Gryffindor hadn’t noticed an increase in the noise in the courtyard, which would have signaled that he wasn’t alone, even if the seventh year didn’t feel like looking up to find out for sure. If anyone had come into the courtyard since the boy had been sitting there, they hadn’t approached him. Good. James didn’t really want to talk to anyone just then. Mostly he just wanted to sit there until either this horrible feeling went away, or until he had time to make it go away. The latter wasn’t the healthiest or the sanest option, but in all honesty, the lion didn’t really care. Healthy sane people didn’t see themselves when they looked at a boggart, so clearly their rules didn’t apply to him. That was how this was supposed to work, wasn’t it? It didn’t seem very fair, otherwise.

James wasn’t usually this good at feeling sorry for himself. Most days, the seventeen year old liked to ignore his problems. If he didn’t think about them, they didn’t exist. If he didn’t think about being depressed, he wouldn’t be. If he didn’t think about his mother, he wouldn’t have to grieve. If he just burned every letter his father sent him, he wouldn’t have to acknowledge the man’s existence. The lion didn’t want to think about these things, didn’t want to have to deal with the consequences of thinking about them. If he thought about his parents, eventually he was going to get angry, and what use was getting angry if there was no one to unleash his anger at? His mother was dead, his father was a stranger, James’ only option would be let his anger loose on people who didn’t deserve it. He’d be like Horatio then. Suddenly his stepfather’s actions for the last nearly eighteen years made a whole lot of sense, which was a sure sign that the Gryffindor needed to get off this bench and go drown his sorrows somewhere so he could forget all about it.

When the girl appeared and started talking, the seventh year’s first instinct was to tell her to get lost. He didn’t want company—that much James thought should be obvious, since he was sitting there alone—and he really didn’t feel like having a conversation with a girl he barely knew. The lion wasn’t even in the mood to talk to anyone he did know particularly well. Sanity crept in just in time to keep the Gryffindor from telling the girl—Catherine or something, James thought her name was—to sod off and leave him alone. At some point, the seventeen year old was going to feel better, and he’d regret acting like a jerk. Probably. Thinking ahead wasn’t the boy’s strong suit.

Straightening, James suppressed a wince as his back ached in protest from the sudden movement after not moving for so long. “I’m not in the mood, but you can go ahead and talk if you want to.”
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Catherine Henson
First Year
Joined: Mar 30 2012, 12:38 PM

Apr 4 2012, 08:58 PM #4

Catherine smiled as James enfolded himself; at least he wasn’t going to keep on reclining with his head in his hands and effectively blocking her out. She cocked her head towards him and looked him in the face. Then she looked forward and breathed in deeply to sooth herself before she would tell him her story. She folded her right leg over her left, and went with her right hand over the outside of her right leg before settling it at the top of her leg. Her dark brown hair fell over her shoulder as she turned her head to look at the Gryffindor when she started talking.

“I’m not sure if you care about this or not, or if you even remember it. Professor Clearwater reminded us, at the start of the class, that he would not hold it against anyone who would bolt. Nor will I. What we faced today is something that touches everyone emotionally, whether you actually stepped up or not. How we deal with that kind of emotionality is different for everyone and I think its plain wrong to hold something like that against someone.”

Another deep breath, with closed eyes this time, and she felt herself relax a little bit more. “What I’m going to tell you is nothing new much; I mean our classmates saw my Boggart, so you can ask later if you want to verify. Though, mind you, that might start off a conversation of sorts about your own Boggart, but the professor could still tell you. I’m not sure what the rest of the class is thinking about my Boggart, nor do I really care. My fears are my own and they have nothing to do with other people. Unless of course other people want to use the knowledge of my fears to hurt me really bad, but then they’d be in for a sorry ride.” Her whole body moved when she spoke; the lift of an eyebrow, the raising of the corner of her mouth, emphasizing something with her hand and arm.

“I basically have two fears. I think they’re quite normal, and some people might say that for someone like me it’s a bit of a sad fear.” She rolled her eyes at the last bit. “The first has to do with my parents. I love them so much and they are such a part of my life that I am scared to hell if I would ever lose them both. So the Boggart first appeared as a policeman telling me that my parents had died. The second is much sorrier, and something that I just might get slammed into my face if someone gets the wrong idea. I’m all confident and everything, but I wouldn’t know what to do if I had nobody left to talk to, laugh or hang out with or anything really. My second fear was about everyone I know and love, turn their back on me. I couldn’t take it anymore and ridikulus[/]sed the Boggart at that point into everybody I know and love giving me a surprise party.”

Catherine looked at the seventh year to see how he was taking her story. She clamped her lips together to think about how she was going to continue. “You still don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I only have one more thing to say and then I’m out of things to say at this point.” She breathed out in one big huff. “Fear is something that, in whatever way, tells us something about ourselves. There are people who fear more mundane things, mice, spiders, or the big squid in the lake... There are also people, like us, who have different fears. We sort of have progressed past those concrete fears, are fears are more abstract. It says something about us that our biggest fears have nothing to do with the real world, and there is nothing wrong with that. No fear is wrong. I think that we don’t fear the actual world because we have confidence in our abilities, so it is unnecessary to fear something like that. Because of our confidence we have the time and opportunity to fear something much more important, what is really inside us. Knowing and accepting are different matters all together, however.”

She paused shortly and then stood up. “I’ve talked long enough and pretty much told you everything that I could tell you at this point. You have to find a way to deal with this yourself. I’ve also been emotionally attacked by this lesson and I want to recharge a bit of my batteries. So I am going to sit in the sunshine on the way softer grass over there. If you feel like unjudgmental company, or decide that you do want to talk about anything. It doesn’t have to be your Boggart; it can also be the weather for all I care. If you want to talk, I’m over there.”

Catherine deliberated for a short moment and then nodded to herself. She flashed a smile at James and then turned and sauntered to the place that she had indicated. She sat down, put her hands behind her and closed her eyes as she lifted her face to the warm sun.
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James Callum-Monroe
Second Year
Joined: Nov 10 2011, 04:45 PM

Apr 7 2012, 08:22 PM #5

James didn't consider himself to be a mean guy or even a terribly unreasonable one. The Gryffindor spent most of his time trying to get along with people, trying to be a friend to people. Hell, he wrote advice for the school newspaper--clearly, the boy didn't have a problem being nice to people. It was just that at moments like this, the lion really didn't want to listen to someone else talk about their problems. Hell, he didn't even want to think about his own. Was it asking so much that he just have some time where he not have to listen to anything serious? Okay, granted, that was a stupid question since the seventh year had told the girl she could say her piece. Thinking rationally was apparently not something the seventeen year old was capable of at the moment. The lion at least had the good sense not to say any of this out loud. The only good part about moments like this was that James' first instinct was to just keep his mouth shut and not say anything. It probably saved him a lot of unneeded strife.

The seventh year listened to Catherine speak. Any other day, when he was in any other mood, the Gryffindor would've been more attentive, would've cared more--not that he didn't care. It was kind of hard to have someone tell you something like that and not care at all. The lion would have to be a complete jerk. Not that James was immune to being a jerk--he could really be quite good at it when he had a mind to—it was just that, at the moment, he didn’t have the energy, for any of it. He didn’t have the energy to say the right thing, or the wrong thing, or even the in between thing. The lion just wanted… hell, he didn’t know what he wanted. The seventh year should just give up now and go… do something. All right, ideas weren’t the boy’s best ability at the moment, it seemed. Whatever, he had one idea at least. Just as soon as Catherine left him alone, the seventeen year old could go take care of that.

Except… Well, except that was really not what he should be doing right then, was it? Feeling like a completely useless lump didn’t change anything. He was still supposed to be an authority, even if the prefect wasn’t a very good one. That meant he shouldn’t be sitting there contemplating getting drunk to get over an issue. That’s what people who had a problem—a drinking problem—did. James didn’t have a problem. He just did it to have fun. That was all. Yeah, sure, sometimes the Gryffindor did when he was feeling down, but that was just because it was so fun. That was all it was about.

With a sigh, the lion stood up, grimacing slightly as his joints cracked. All right, whatever he was going to do, it shouldn’t involve sitting. That much at least was pretty obvious. Stretching, the seventh year glanced toward where Catherine had gone. It had been rather nice of her to come over and talk to him, especially since she barely knew him.

Approaching the girl, the Gryffindor ran a hand over his hair, trying to look casual, which wasn’t the easiest feat, all things considered. “Look,” he started, then paused for a moment. What was he even supposed to say? Sorry you had a crappy boggart experience, too? Thanks for talking to me? None of that really sounded like something the seventh year would say, at least not at a moment like this. “Look, you want to go do something? Preferably something that doesn’t involve talking about anything serious?”
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Catherine Henson
First Year
Joined: Mar 30 2012, 12:38 PM

Apr 13 2012, 07:39 PM #6

Humming with the joy of feeling the sun on her face, Catherine waited to see if James was going to take her up on her offer. She didn’t particularly like James, nor did she particularly dislike him. She just didn’t know that well to have any opinion of him. That he apparently was afraid of himself was interesting. It would be even more interesting to know why he was afraid of himself, but she figured that he didn’t even know that himself. His reaction showed that he had expected a different Boggart and from that she gathered that, on top of the fact that he didn’t know why he was afraid of himself, he also didn’t know why it had changed.

Her dark brown hair moved around her shoulders as she shook her head. She was not going to pry into his life and private thoughts until he gave her green light to go there. Besides, she didn’t want to darken this beautiful morning by thinking such bleak thoughts. Slowly she lowered her arms so that she was now lying down completely. Her arms moved through the grass as she played with the blades with her fingers. She likes these moments when she languorously enjoyed the sunshine, being outside, and the feeling of the nature around her.

She looked up with a smile when she heard James approaching. It turned into a seductive smile when he proposed to do something unserious. She quickly raised her eyebrows and lowered them again. “You dirty boy. What do you have in mind then?” She said and slowly got up, as much for her own muscles as that gave her the opportunity to use her body seductively. She wasn’t a whore, not by a long shot; she was still a virgin after all. But she was definitely a tease. It was just so much more fun to play with the boys than to be afraid of them or long after them. She preferred to have fun and acting the way that she did fit her like a glove, it felt completely natural to her so she didn’t see any reason why she would change it.

When she finally stood, she took that last step to James and trailed her hand over his chest before she grabbed his hand. She laid a single finger of his lips, they felt immensely soft and she liked the feel of them, and winked. “Ssh... Don’t speak just yet. Let’s walk for a bit. Enjoy the sunshine here, or somewhere else. Maybe you’ll think of something nice to do or you’ll enjoy the quiet. Either way, don’t say a word until you’ve figured out what you want to do.” She said to him and after she finished talking she pulled him along to the quieter sides of the courtyard. They could go anywhere, she didn’t really care. She understood what James needed though, to do something that took away the attention from they had experienced earlier. A breather before having to go dive back in again.
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