talk _ show _ host, Greg

[Willow Lowe]

I WANT TO BE SOMEONE ELSE OR I'LL EXPLODE
come and find me, i'll be waiting for nothing, nothing, i'm ready

Arithmancy was a good enough class, at least Willow assumed. It was difficult, but not hard enough a person couldn't grasp it with enough studying, as she had. She enjoyed the fact that it was almost repetitive, simple once the basics were understood, and it had a perfection to it that agreed with her very much. There was nothing more calming to the girl than something that took meticulous concentration and had lots of structure to it, it kept her mind far too busy to think of anything else, that was why she liked art. She wasn't the most original when it came to art, making what could basically be photographs of the world around her -though some would call it talent- she knew that it wasn't. If it wasn't for her eye for detail, and her persistence with perfection, her art would look something like a five year old had made it. It wasn't so much about art and expression as it was about perfection with things like that, messy as they were, and as she got when doing them. But this was clean, simple, cut and dry, and so she liked it. It was hard for her to say a thing like that though, that she liked anything, for it involved feeling for it, which she only felt for for things and people, and even then it was a very small number, and she hated even admitting it. To Willow, she didn't feel like other people did, she didn't feel joy or pleasure like others did, and only ever showed emotions she knew were the right ones and that she'd seen others show in similar situations, never really feeling them herself. She felt happy around Greg and Kyndal though, like they weren't judging her, and even then, she didn't show everything.

To Kyndal, Willow was a rock, her older sister, the one she could confide in and look up to, she had a good head on her shoulders, was calm, collected, and knew the answers to life's harder questions. None of it was true though. Willow only knew what she heard, observed, was taught, none of the things she'd learned on her own, feeling things out, so to speak. She felt a kind of responsibility toward her sister, one which she didn't mind, and so she equated that to caring about her, which in her way she did. With Greg there was something else, a companionship maybe, as she looked up to him, her older brother, and knew he hid a part of himself much like she did herself. He made her laugh though, most of the time at him, since his jokes were so crass she couldn't help but shaker her head and roll her eyes, but always with a chuckle. She knew deep down he wasn't what everyone else saw, as she was sure he must see in her, since he seemed more accepting of her and her slight oddities than the rest of their siblings. The lot of them were all so different though, so it was no wonder that she would feel slightly out of place, but as different as she felt she was, she had a feeling it was more than ought to be, seeing how the rest got on. Even Tristan, their adoptive brother, got along with the rest of them better than she did, and he was a prick most of the time. Safe to say, she didn't understand it, but it didn't plague her much, she simply ignored it, like most of her emotions, and went on with her day, distracting herself with her many little projects and school work.

A sigh escaped her as class ended, feeling a bit put out that it had ended so soon, but knew it had been coming; simply scooping all her things up into her arms, and took her time standing to leave. Waiting patiently as the many students filed anxiously out the door, eager t leave the rather boring and monotonous class, Willow leaned herself atop the lip of the table she'd been sitting in front of, and watched them all shuffle out, a blank and rather bored expression on her face. She couldn't stand any of them, almost to the point of hatred, but then that would be far too emotionally heavy a word to use. They were all so stupid though, so wrapped up in trivial and pointless things, all looking for lust masked as love, all striving for pointless goals, like children and marriage (which were the things people worked so hard later in life to afford). She wanted none of that, never wanting more than her own peace and quiet, if ever brought so far as to want anything. Secretly, with much guilt, she wanted Greg as more than just a close friend, a brother that was her only companion, but even then she wasn't sure what, and anytime she thought on it she was so disgusted with herself she'd avoid looking herself in the mirror for days. It helped that she didn't often wear much of any makeup, so avoiding her own reflection was like breathing, something she did without even realizing it. He (and her plethora of strange, demented, and dying animals) was the thing that occupied her thoughts most of the time, as if she wanted to divulge some great secret to him, express herself, talk to him about something other than classes and professors; but then what was there really to talk about.

Part of her felt trapped, as if she wasn't really herself, only stuck in someone else's life, like she had been born into the wrong family, meant to have someone else as a mother and father she could actually love. Maybe that was it, maybe it wasn't all her, maybe she wasn't the one lacking, it could have been her family hadn't been the right ones to teach her basic, human emotions. None of it mattered though, it was a moot point, seeing as she couldn't have been born to anyone else, and what had been done was done, she was a Lowe, nothing to do about it now. Still a part of her wept for the life she had, almost pitying it at times, but like everything, she ignored it, kept it hidden and buried deep inside. Finally, as all the students left, and none piled in at all too eagerly to enter, Willow left, slipping past a couple that were snogging at the door frame, and gave a silent groan to herself as she avoided looking at them. Hormones were one thing, being rude and forcing others to share in your intimate moments, was a whole and complete other. True, Willow had issues with any form of intimacy, unless given to Kyndal when she needed it, or reluctantly when asked for it by Douglas. But to have to see it when she would much rather be focusing on the things she needed for class, or the checklist of potions she had to feed her pets between them, was just down right rude. This, and other things, meandered about her thoughts as she walked through the crowded corridor, breathing a bit easier as the bodies began thinning out as people entered their classes.

words 1245
clothes here
graphics me ^.^
music talk show host by radiohead
notes hope the starter works for you x.x

[Gregory Lowe]

Ancient Runes. Not exactly a class that Greg was at his best in, but he managed to do well enough for himself in it. The boy wasn't good with classes that took alot of memorization, facts and figures rather than hands on learning. He did so much better with things like Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, something you could hold in your hands and study rather than things written on paper that you couldn't touch, yet still had to comprehend. It also didn't help that the girl that sat at the table with him was ridiculously hot and kept him distracted for most of the hour. When they were finally dismissed he gathered his things together, cramming everything rather unceremoniously in his bag as the students began to squeeze past one another out the door. He didn't see why everyone left the classrooms so eagerly, why be in a rush just to go to the next class that you would sit in and complain about? Of course, most students were rushing off to go find their significant other and get a good snog in before they had to take off to the next room and begin learning again. Greg was not of those students though, he had no significant other, though he had plenty of girls he could easily go find to kill some time with, just not one that made his heart race and his stomach flip everytime he laid eyes on her. Part of him truly missed that feeling, being in love, the rest of him though was saying 'screw it, you just get your heart broke so why bother'. He was a cynic when it came to love, he didn't mean to be, but one bad experience had clouded his judgement of it all.

He did want to find someone eventually, a girl he could completely trust with himself, he just wasn't actively searching for this girl, if he found her then he found her, but it would be by chance if he did. Finally escaping the classroom, he slug the strap of his bag onto his shoulder, strolling down at his own leisurely pace, not really giving a damn if he was late for his next class or not. He'd make it when he did and the Professor would just have to deal. He turned the corner, stepping around smaller students to avoid taking them out in his path, his eyes lazily scanning over the faces of the students there. That's when he spotted his sister. He wasn't surprised, there were so many Lowes in these halls the surprise of running into them randomly had left long ago. He quickened his step just slightly, falling in beside her to walk. "You look pissed." though to Greg, Willow always looked pissed off, or sad. That seemed to be the constant state of her features, though sometimes, her face appeared completely blank, like she wasn't even there in herself. Taking the next corner, he stepped sideways into her, bumping her off of her path and into a small hall behind a wall hanging. He continued walking as though nothing had happened, starting up the steps there. The boys hands instantly went for his pockets, patting himself down until he found the half empty pack of cigarettes he kept stored away. Yeah, he smoked, something his parents didn't know, and few of his siblings did. The ones that did know being limited to Willow and Tristan as those were the two he spent the absolute most time with.

It's not something he did alot, smoking one day at most, usually limited to one every other day, perhaps two if he was just that stressed out. Then there were the times he just got the random urge to have one, like now for instance. Fishing a smoke from the pack he stuck it between his lips, letting it hang there as he replaced the pack, digging around for his lighter as the small staircase made a curve by a large window. He stopped there, opening the window with a small grunt as the thing probably didn't get used much and so gave a little resistance to the movement. Once he got it open though, he took one side of it to sit in, leaving the other side for willow as he hung one leg out the window, the other bending at his knee, that foot resting in the sill, his back against the side sill of the window. Cupping the flame he lit his cigarette, replacing the lighter when he was done. "So hows your day going? Mines been looking pretty f*cked so far." he asked, exhaling a large cloud of smoke with his words as he brought the cigarette back to this lips to inhale again.

[Willow Lowe]

Lost in her thoughts as she walked, ignoring the world around her, Willow let her eyes focus on the floor before her, her head slightly bowed, and arms holding tightly to her books. That faces of her many demented pets played in her mind, the way they looked at her when she'd been unable to skip a class to see them, the way they looked like they had missed what she assumed they had deemed her as their mother. It was kind of sweet, the idea that something could love her like that, when in all actuality, she wasn't sure if she loved anything, other than the care she showed them and her brother and sister. They needed her, relied on her care to live another day (for most of them), and she was glad to give it, thriving on the wonder that was their daily bliss, just wandering around their cages or about her room. She kept them hidden from all the other girls in her house, and even her siblings, who surely knew about them by now, but those that did found them utterly repulsive. To Willow, they were fascinating, a wonder of whatever god and nature, things that ought not exist, though with her aid lived rather lengthy lives, for what they were at least. As a student, she would be the pride and joy of her Care professor, if she cared to even take the class, but the creatures that roamed about normally in the magical world -and even the muggle world- didn't interest her, not one bit. That was Greg's area of study, his joy; learning about and seeing new and fantastical creatures that had been around since the world began, not Willow though, she preferred the ones she could find in her own garden.

It was his voice that rang in her ears that stole her from her thoughts, causing a smile to instantly form on her rather sullen face. It only appeared there a moment before disappearing, but for that moment she showed an honest expression of revelry, one that he'd obviously missed. Her response to his observation though was a classic one for her, as she rolled her eyes over to him and gave him a kind of sardonic smirk, asking if he really expected anything less from her. It was rather disappointing that she come off upset at all to anyone, though Greg understood her better than most, so he could see through her expressions more than most, still, to express an emotion she was not aware of having (if at all) was slightly offsetting. She smiled again when he walked into her, this time the sign of happiness remaining there, even slightly, as she followed his lead and detoured from her path, aware that she would be skipping class. Normally, Willow couldn't stand anyone touching her, not even in a playful way, as that would involve a level of intimacy that she was far from willing to share with anyone. But with Greg it was different, he was her older brother, he understood her, saw through the seriousness to the softer girl hidden deep inside, and she appreciated it. So with a roll of her eyes she accepted his slight nudge, or his fleeting moments when he'd pick something from her clothing, or brush back her hair; rare moments that were more intimate to her than Douglas' hugs. Taking the stairs two at a time, then a few properly, Willow kept up with her brother, knowing the rout well enough, as she herself often skipped there to hide and smoke, sometimes having him join her on the rare occasions he partook in the habit.

Opening her book to her Charms, a class she took for the credit and nothing else, she opened to a section she'd cut out to hide her pack of cigarettes. It was the only time she ever opened the thing, knowing it was safe to hide them in there and not have to worry about carrying a bag to hold that single thing. No one ever sat next to her in class, and when paired in class (if ever), the odd number would always group in a three to avoid working with her. There was no worry about sharing her book, anyone spying what she'd done to the thing, or asking her for a cigarette, since she hid it rather well the fact she smoked. Removing the pack from the tight hole in the pages, Willow brushed back her hair and set her things on the sill across from Greg, taking out her wand in the process. She tapped the filter of her cigarette on the top of the pack before tossing it aside, watching it nearly fall out the open window without the slightest sign of concern, and simply placed the cigarette between her lips and lit the end with the tip of her wand. She took a pull and set her wand down, straightening out her things and setting the pack back away where it belonged as she leaned against the window frame, her head turning casually over toward her brother as he spoke. "It's going," she replied dryly, a smirk laced along her lips, "Not a fan of classes?" she asked, her smirk growing as she knew how he'd reply. Greg wasn't one for most classes, as Willow wasn't as well, no surprise, so she understood his disliking the day thus far.

She took another drag and leaned over, reaching over for her brother's pack to spy on how he was doing for the week, making sure she wouldn't have to worry about him asking for any of hers anytime soon, since she was the one that was far more addicted. "I have a feeling your favorite professor might be knocking on my door soon to get hold of Jigme, I don't like how he looks at her." She spoke with her cigarette bobbing with her every word, the paper clinging to the skin on her lip almost painfully, but she ignored the slight irritation. Tossing his pack back at him, she removed the cigarette from her lips, moving her back to the window frame once more, this time facing him as she slipped off her shoes and stood with one set near his leg for a moment. "What is with him anyway?" she asked, giving his knee a slight nudge as she brought up her foot to rub it idly, "He's a weird one. I thought good looking people weren't supposed to be... dorky like that. You don't see me acting like that, do you?" She gave him a wide smile before looking down at her foot with a sigh, "I hate that these shoes are comfortable for the first hour I put them on, but the second I get to really walking around... ugh." Gradually she sat, draping her foot over her slanted knee, her leg stretched out at a strange angle away from the window, her fingers working their way between her toes to give them the nice spreading they had very much needed. "You're so damn lucky you're not a girl."

words 1190