imagine where you are [[jeremy]]

[salem]

Salem Sinclair was an intelligent girl- she did her homework, practiced her spells, and did research assignments without having to be reminded or told. She had passed all of her classes exceptionally; hell, she was a Ravenclaw. The sorting hat hadn't been wrong about that. Despite all of her heritage pointing towards Slytherin, it was her thirst for knowledge over power that had won out in the end.

But it had been this hunger for knowledge that had taken her sight; and now, she couldn't help but be worried that it was going to be much, much worse. A parcel from home had been delivered; an old, ancient artifact from the Sinclair bloodline that her parents thought she might amuse herself with. Of course, she didn't think that they would have sent her anything dangerous enough to kill her, even if they were displeased she had disgraced the family. It wasn't as if she was marrying a muggle-born or a Gryffindor. She was convinced that they hadn't known about the ancient curse placed on it. She had thought that she had successfully cracked the code to get into it, but as soon as the curse had been removed, she had begun to feel a slow change.

Her energy was very low, and she had a dull, burning pain under her skin. It wasn't normal, and she was too proud to go to the hospital wing. She didn't want to be reprimanded or, worse, for the heirloom to be confiscated from her. What would her family think then?

So she had tried to research it, to find an antidote or cure. But the symptoms had progressed severely, and as she sat in the Transfiguration classroom, she could feel that there was no more postponing it: she needed to get to the Hospital Wing immediately. But hell, like she was going to let anyone else know of her predicament. She raised her hand and was granted permission to be excused; she took her bag with her and left. Unfortunately, just a short trip down the corridor had her leaning against a wall, trying to catch her breath.

Her skin felt like it was on fire. She began to scratch at it, and as she did, she slid down the wall into a seated position. Her legs had all but collapsed under her, too weak for her to walk any further. She hissed and scratched harder until she felt a warm liquid brush against her fingers. Blood... She looked a little panicked, even if she couldn't see the sight beginning to unfold. She tried to push herself up, but to no avail.

And with class in session, she didn't know if she would be able to get the help she needed. All in the name of pride.

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TAG - Jeremy
WORDS - 559
SONG - Puddle of Mudd -- Blurry
MUSE - Amazingly great!
NOTES - :3 I can't wait to see this plot unfold!! Thank you so much for taking it!
CREDIT made by flyy~

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[jeremy]

sometimes i scrape and sink so low
i'm shocked at what you're capable of

“Cadwallader.”

Jeremy’s head immediately snapped up from the piece of parchment he’d been doodling on. He hastily covered the current masterpiece with a hand - a dragon devouring the transfiguration professor that was now looking at him with raised eyebrows. He flashed the professor a sheepish smile, and flicked his gaze back over at the blackboard, where a piece of chalk was writing rapidly. He tried to take in the information, and began taking brief, scribbled notes alongside the dragon. It was not long before his attention drifted back to his doodle, and in turn, it was not long before the professor took note.

“Jeremy.” This time, the professor spoke with a with a firm, disbelieving edge. “Why don’t you go see what’s keeping Miss. Sinclair?”

Jeremy couldn’t help but flash a grin over at the professor, and stood with a nod, grabbing his bag and stuffing his ’notes’ into a pocket. “Sure thing, Miss.” He said, brightly. Ignoring the somewhat exasperated looks he was receiving from his classmates, he headed for the door, and out into the corridors. This, for him, was a perfect excuse to get away from the boring lesson. He considered heading up to Gryffindor tower and ditching the lesson - which he was eager to do - instead of finding the blind girl who had been excused from the lesson. She was probably busying herself in the bathroom, or had maybe, similar to him, wanted to escape the lecture. He’d never liked transfiguration - perhaps she was in the same situation.

Humming lightly under his breath, he headed for the bathrooms. He figured it was the least he could do, especially since the professor likely wanted him back in class. If push came to shove, he could call out in there, see if she answered, and if not, he could return to the Gryffindor common room guilt free and operating under the assumption that she’d wandered off. Jeremy did not get that pleasure, however, because as he rounded a corner, he saw the girl he was looking for, Salem, slumped against a wall.

Bleeding.

His natural reaction was panic, mingled with a vague distaste for blood. He quickened his pace toward her, determined to keep calm, though he was having a hard time refraining from panicking. “Hey… hey, Sinclair,” It was, perhaps, a little awkward, the way he approached her, but he felt that she needed to know that he was there - considering the fact that she was blind. He didn’t particularly want to scare her, or confuse her, though he was sure she must’ve heard his approaching footsteps. He came as close as he dared, and crouched down slightly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “What the hell happened?” He asked, in a cautious, but urgent tone. He was trying to figure, in his head, what might be a good idea. He could go fetch the nurse, but he couldn’t, in good conscience, leave her there while he went to tell the healer about what was going on.

He had one option, if he didn’t want to leave her there, on the floor, bleeding. “Shit…” He swore under his breath, then tentatively reached his arms out to position himself to scoop her up off of the floor. “Sinclair, I’m going to pick you up, and we’re going to the hospital wing, all right? All right.” He didn’t wait for an answer because the panicky voice in his head was telling him that time was of the essence. Merlin, she was bleeding, he didn‘t have time to get her permission. Instead, with a grimace, Jeremy lifted her, one arm supporting her back, the other hooked behind her knees.

tag; Salem/Chii
words; 614
muse; Black Sabbath. Lots and lots of Black Sabbath.
lyrics; Famous Last Words - MCR
notes; Shit post, if you want anything changed, lemme know, and I'll happily fix it. ^^

[salem]

The itching had spread into her face and neck. Her nails dug at her skin, trying to find some release from the pain. The scratching helped- but not for long.

Her head snapped up, and she looked towards the voice, not seeing the boy standing there, but familiar with him all the same. Cadwallader, of course- a Gryffindor boy, in the same year as she, a quidditch player, and in her Transfiguration class. Had she been gone so long that the teacher had sent for help? She may have been insulted, but more than that she was grateful for her teacher's thoroughness. After all, she didn't believe that this boy was helping her just to help her. He had to have been sent by someone else.

Briefly, she wondered what she must have looked like to him; she could feel the blood running down her neck and arms from the superficial wounds she had created. Her unfocused eyes stared straight past him, not blinking and not seeing.

Had she thought she had the situation under control, she might have told him to bugger off. But she was intelligent enough to recognize when she had been defeated. This was one of those times. Begrudgingly, she allowed him to pick her up and tried her best to make it easier on him- using what little strength she did have to push herself weakly off of the floor. Damn it all, she thought as she was lifted from the floor. If they could only see her now... it was times like these she was grateful that she didn't have to look at people's faces.

At least it was Cadwallader taking her there; true, she didn't know the boy well (and what she did know of him, she thought him to be an annoying prat), but she also didn't think he was going to be the type to run and gossip to his little friends. Annoying or not, she thought he may have a shred of decency. And if he didn't? Well, she'd have to figure out how to take care of that once she was better now wouldn't she?

As they arrived at the hospital wing, one of the healers came forward, instructing for the girl to be laid down on one of the beds. And when that was complete, the symptoms were gone over. It wasn't going to be an easy, pleasant recovery due to the nature of the curse, but she wasn't beyond repair.

"Hey, Cadwallader," Salem finally said once the nurse had left to get the remedies. "Thanks."

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TAG - Jeremy
WORDS - 552
SONG - None
MUSE - Awesome
NOTES - :What are you talking about? THE POST WAS AMAZING. ahs;djlasd Now I feel all inadequate. XD Also, if you would like, we can start up a different thread for them, too. It never crossed my mind that this one might be so short!
CREDIT made by flyy~

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[jeremy]

sometimes i scrape and sink so low
i'm shocked at what you're capable of

Jeremy wondered, while he headed for the hospital wing with Salem in his arms, what it was he did to get himself into these messes. Had he been paying attention, this would have been someone else’s responsibility. It wasn’t that he minded it, really. As bad as it would sound, he almost preferred escorting her to the Hospital Wing to the Transfiguration lesson. Maybe it was a selfish thought. Then, there was the fact that this was something to occupy himself with… which was also a selfish thought, thinking about it. In any case, he didn’t mind.

He looked down at her and screwed up his face in mild distaste at the sight of the blood, the wounds and scratches she’d covered herself in. He was not squeamish by any means, but… well, it still wasn’t exactly a pleasant sight. No one could exactly blame him for not liking blood. It was why he was trying to keep his gaze focused ahead of him as he walked. He didn’t speak, as he was afraid his voice might betray how panicked and concerned he was for her, despite the fact that they’d never so much as said a word to each other. He usually prided himself in being good in a crisis, and was now… sort of rethinking it. He was a Gryffindor, and a typical Gryffindor at that. He honestly shouldn’t have been having problems with this, and the fact that he was was mildly unsettling.

Jeremy walked into the Hospital Wing and glanced around for a healer until one came forward. As instructed, he set Salem down on one of the free beds and watched as the healer went over her injuries. He wasn’t sure what the protocol was, here. He was half tempted to leave and let the healers handle it, but he stayed rooted in spot anyway. His gaze followed the healer as he went to fetch the needed… er, supplies, hell, he didn’t know. Remedies? Whatever, he wasn’t about to dwell on that. After a brief moment standing there awkwardly and trying to decide whether to stay or go, he turned to leave, only to hear his name. He looked back over his shoulder at her and shrugged, flicking his eyes up at the ceiling. “No problem, Sinclair.” He said, trying to sound genuinely pleased to have helped her, though still coming off with that same, cocky, confident air. He hesitated for a moment, before turning back to look at her.

He wasn’t sure whether or not to bring it up, honestly, but he wanted to know what the hell had happened. Why had she lost most of her strength, why had she be sitting on the ground picking away at her skin? It was the part of him that had that natural, but innocent curiosity that wanted to know. Or maybe he was just nosy. His sister would call him a busy-body. He didn’t really know if there was a distinction between ’curious’ and ’prying’, anyway. He didn’t particularly care, either.

After a few moments silence, he cleared his throat and rubbed a hand at the back of his head. “What happened back there, anyway?” He asked, cocking his head slightly to the side as he did. “Just out of curiosity. I don’t mean to pry,” He said, with a nonchalant air and a light shrug of his shoulders.

tag; Salem/Chii
words; 564
muse; Nirvana!
lyrics; Famous Last Words - MCR
notes; SORRY THIS TOOK ME MONTHS xDD But yush, we ought to go ahead and start another. ^^

[salem]

If he hadn't just potentially saved her life, she would have rolled her eyes at the tone of his voice. She appreciated his attempts to be sincere in a way. It was commonplace courtesy, and he was just following how he had been raised more than likely. But even if he was making the effort to spare her feelings, she appreciated the sentiment all the same. She knew that she wouldn't have been pleased to have to help someone who nearly killed themselves, even if it was accidental.

When he asked her about what had happened, she raised an eyebrow. Of course, to onlookers, this might appear rather strange. Though the reddish color the curse had given her skin was beginning to fade with the first round of remedies and despite the fact she was no longer bleeding, she wasn't looking at him at all. Her gaze and expressions were all fixated on a point slightly to the left of him. It was true that she could cast spells to improve her hearing so that she could get a better idea of where a person was, but she liked to attempt to train her own body to do it... unfortunately, since she didn't tell anyone, she was never quite sure if she was getting better or not.

"Of course you're meaning to pry, you don't have to act polite to save face. If you want to know something because you're curious, ask it with no apologies," that was the Ravenclaw in her speaking. She never felt regret for gaining more knowledge on a subject- even if that subject happened to be a person.

She debated on whether or not to tell him- on one hand, she felt she owed it to him. He had saved her life. And it wasn't exactly secret that she liked to play with ancient artifacts. But then there was the fact that she didn't know him, and she would feel awkward explaining such a thing to someone who might judge her as crazy, insane, or self-absorbed. Who was she to think that she was so powerful that she could defy ancient wizards?

"I messed with the wrong spell," she stated, and that was as in to it as she intended to get. "But it's a habit of mine, I suppose..." now that the remedies were taking more effect, she was beginning to feel a bit better... and sleepy.

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TAG - Jeremy
WORDS - 500
SONG - None
MUSE - Excellent
NOTES - I will post a new thread tomorrow, but go ahead and reply to this one if you want! If you don't want to, then it's okay! Loved the post!
CREDIT made by flyy~

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[jeremy]

sometimes i scrape and sink so low
i'm shocked at what you're capable of

Jeremy was a little bit taken aback by her short, matter-of-fact response. He blinked, cocked his head over at her, and offered a smile. It was in his nature to recover from being told off with a grin, a smile, a shrug of the shoulders. He wasn't really sure whether she meant it in a negative way or if she just meant it as a correction, like you'd correct a child. That was an unsettling thought. He hadn't thought about it, but it was useless, giving her these charming smiles to try to win her over. The realization that she wasn't seeing any of this made him slightly uncomfortable, and was only added to by the fact that she wasn't looking at him, but rather to the left of him. Subconsciously, he shifted to be more in her nonexistent line of vision, just for his own comfort.

It was how he made his friends, how he won over girls that thought he was obnoxious. That charming smile, that attitude that said 'frankly, I don't give a fuck what you think about me.' But it was all in his actions, his movements, a well placed eyeroll. He was probably just coming off as a prat to her. Not that he cared. And he didn't. Honestly. He'd never cared much for how others saw him. He had his friends, and that was all he needed. Well... his friends and an occasional girl wrapped around his finger.

"I wasn't trying to save face," Whatever that meant, anyway... He was fairly sure whatever she did mean by it, it wasn't great. It sounded bad, anyway. "'Cause honestly, I'm not really concerned about what you think of me," He had that same careless, unconcerned air to his voice. He pushed a hand back through his hair, messing it up a bit, before mentally reprimanding himself. It wasn't making any difference with her, anyway... why make the effort? "But if you prefer, fine, I'm being a nosy twat. Either way, you ought to just tell me." Accompanied by yet another charming grin. It was force of habit, honestly.

He listened to her vague reply with a nod here and there. He bought it. Honestly, it didn't sound that far-fetched. He wasn't one to play with spells, but that was only for the fact that he didn't particularly need to. He got by a lot of the time without magic, and, facing facts, he just wasn't clever or skilled enough to justify playing with spells he wasn't well acquainted with. He used what was on the curriculum, no more, no less. Some might call it lazy, but he wasn't sure you could show him a Gryffindor who wasn't at least a little bit lazy.

"Seems like a valid excuse." He said, with a nod. "What spell, if you don't mind my being a nosy twat...?" He quirked an eyebrow over at her. "Do you also make a habit of collapsing in the corridors? 'Cause... you know... I wouldn't recommend that..." ... Okay, that sentence had started out clever, really, it had. He was just making himself come off like an idiot... it was a common thing, he'd try to sound smart and just finish off sounding ridiculous. He debated leaving, again, but that would mean going back to class, and he wasn't sure if that was what he wanted to do...

Class had been dreadfully boring that day... He glanced around for a chair near her bed, and made the snap decision to cross the few foot's distance. He dropped himself onto the chair, crossed his legs, and looked at her with a vague smile. "You don't mind my waiting out the period here, do you?" It was a polite request - he wouldn't force his company on her, of course, but he certainly wasn't returning to Transfiguration, either. Professor Whatserface would have to deal with his absence either way.

tag; Salem/Chii
words; 696
muse; Marilyn Manson makes for fantastic muse
lyrics; Famous Last Words - MCR
notes; Woo post!

[salem]

Listening to this boy speak was interesting. It was rare that she actually found someone worth listening to. Most people annoyed her; and, she suspected that Jeremy would have, too, had it not been in the context of the situation. As such, she just started laughing when he called himself 'a nosy twat'.

"Well, at least you're admitting it," her amusement was showing in her voice, but she wasn't mocking him. However, it quickly faded, and she was back to her stoic self. Salem wasn't great with emotion. It wasn't as if she didn't allow herself to show it or have it, but she was very internalized, and it was rare that she did. Of course, it was rare that she had conversations with her peers as well. Most found her strange or were uncomfortable due to her lack of sight. They pitied her, and she knew it.

She didn't read into the situation, though. This was just a pleasant conversation between herself and the person who happened to save her life.

"To recite the incantation would be unproductive at this moment; but it is also known as the Fire Flesh Curse. It's illegal now, but ancient wizards would use it a lot on their prized possessions to keep others from stealing them. Without the right counter-curse, it is impossible to be removed." she paused, unable to tell if he was lost or not because she couldn't read his face or body language.

"Long story short; each counter curse is different depending on the name of the spell caster and the artifact it has been cast on." Salem wondered if he knew where she was going with this. "I thought I had traced it back to it's original owner, but apparently I was wrong, and this is what happened." She was certain he would find her crazy now. Who went around at sixteen years old trying to break dangerous, life-threatening spells of ancient wizards? Apparently she did.

Now that she was done with her story, she turned to his question. "No, the most I do is walk into walls and doors" it was a rare occurrence, but it did happen. His delivery wasn't as witty as she had been expecting, and she briefly wondered if he had something on his mind. She decided not to ask. For now.

"It doesn't bother me. If the nurses don't kick you out, I won't." It was his loss for missing out on a great lesson.

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TAG - Jeremy
WORDS - 551
SONG - None.
MUSE - Excellent
NOTES - <3 Hope this post is okay!! D: I worked hard on it, but I still feel like it sucks.
CREDIT made by flyy~

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