Beck's Daily Dose of Sarcasm

Fri, 29 Feb 2008 18:26:23 GMT

It is an odd thing to find myself here. I would have gone to Hogwarts, but I didn't think I would make it without a portkey and I don't have one. Someone flooed me to a castle. I'm told it is the Drake castle. I've heard of a library and a museum here. They are one of the great families. I'm going exploring. The Unmaking has been unleashed and it brings back memories of confusion. That was around the time Nate died. And after, Selkirk went homicidal. There has to be somewhere in this castle I can be alone, but there are so many people.

17 August 1981

Fri, 08 Feb 2008 17:09:19 GMT

What is the deal? Can I not find normal people to room with? I hope these don't end up dying too, but then Neroli is already missing, just missing without a note. I assume I won't have to take care of his cat forever upon my bosses wishes (just weird), but this morning I woke up to find Darius, on the floor. He's brought two strays in to sleep in the house and no, they aren't dogs, and no, they aren't paying rent as far as I know. He didn't even /ask/ if that was okay. We could get in trouble with the owner. I guess healers just feel the need to help everyone.

Oh, and joy, one of them is one of my bosses, at least in rank. Yes, the very one who told me to take care of Neroli's cat. I would have done it anyways, but to get a memo about it? Are you serious? Are we human? You can walk over to my cube and ask me to do it. Seriously. But now that you're here Daniel Soong, if you aren't paying rent, the least you can do is take care of the god damn cat yourself.

I really hate it when I start. I really hope Nessa isn't cycling with me or I'm going to bite her perky little head off.

Clearly, I need to brew some potions.

I'll just talk to Darius about it after work today and find out what is going on.

Tue, 22 Jan 2008 16:52:29 GMT

I will finally be moving out of the old flat, probably in the next month or two. It will be nice to finally be free of this place. Zechariah is gone. I have met Darius, but I have not met this other girl. I hope we'll be able to afford a larger place by going in on it together. Darius said he was somewhat neat. I'll wait before I rejoice. In general, neat for men is different compared to neat for women. However, if I could deal with Zech's shenanigans, I don't think this will be a problem.

OOC: Quiz

Wed, 29 Nov 2006 08:49:11 GMT

Mysteries

Thu, 09 Nov 2006 07:47:55 GMT

I have been accepted into the Ministry as a Trainee Unspeakable. Just as last year, I can always smell this persistant smokey smell that permeates things. Logan, one of my countless number of bosses, isn't the only one who smokes, but he smokes a lot. Maybe I'm just smelling myself after being around them. The more and more I see the run of things, the more I'm determined to show my potential in a broad sense, keep my options open instead of letting people's perceptions close me in.

This would help with the cash inflow problem, accept they pay us in flobberworms practically. I wasn't expecting to make money after Hogwarts, or not ever enough to actually make me rich beyond my wildest dreams. Whatever that is. But being able to live would help. As it is, money will be tight, but that's about it.

As of now, I do believe that I have accomplished all of my goals, or at least the ones that have mattered. The big ones are moving out of the house and getting into Mysteries. I suppose the next most likely goal is promotion or somehow making a significant contribution at work.

On another note, I suppose Craddock could be worse. Maybe. Maybe not. I don't know. I'm going to ride it out and see if he's at least interesting.

Also, it would be nice to run into Francis again, but I feel like maybe I'd be letting him win and so easily by calling him up. I hadn't seen him since school and in that day and age I didn't really give anyone or anything the time of day except for my studies.

Beck

Hmm...

Tue, 24 Oct 2006 23:33:13 GMT

Just checking in, as a few things have changed in my life.

First change of note, I have moved out of the parents' house and into a flat. I put an ad in the Prophet for a roommate and ended up getting a man a couple of years my senior by the name of Zechariah Craddock. He is irritable. He is many things, but there is no need to rant on and on about him. He's still a roommate. Of course Mother doesn't know about it and I can safely say that this will be the last time I'll be writing about Mum (with any luck).

Secondly, I ran into that girl, Paige, who my brother used to hang out with all the time. She was in my year, unfortunately. I think she thinks we have some kind of kinship, but I don't see it. We are opposites and it is futile to pretend we have one shred of being in common.

Even though that encounter was less than pleasant, I met someone. Two people. The first was James Drake. He brought a menagerie of woodland creatures with him into Flourish and Botts. All I have to say about that is that man is lucky those weren't my books.

Then I met his little brother, Francis. I remember "Frankie," as he likes to be called, in school. He's not too much older than me. I can't say he dresses sensibly but I can say that he has fashion sense. He's also easy on the eyes, though I didn't think much of him in general when he started hitting on Paige. "Oh, he's like every other guy," is what went through my head, and frankly, it kind of made me feel like some vein of world justice was being violated for the zillionth time; it made me sick that yet another guy would succumb to...whatever. So I did something about it. I got his attention. The thing is, I didn't expect for him to hold mine. He was vaguely vulgar, but I sensed that was more a portion of daring and...personality in him. It was fun to flirt so basely in front of Paige. Long story short, I hope I see Francis again.

I am also planning on applying to Mysteries...

Beck

Crossroads

Wed, 28 Jun 2006 20:09:58 GMT

It has been awhile since I last wrote here, but I thought it would be good to record a few of my thoughts post-graduation. Val is a gentleman as always and though I did not get best in potions or in any other subject, he got me some new equipment. I do hope he does well for himself and is able to wipe the stain from his name.

On to other things though. I have not applied to the Ministry yet and I am at a crossroads. Mother says I should make a decision promptly because ambition does not wait for the indecisive. For once, she is right and I agree with her. We spoke about it with a decent amount of civility, meaning we did not end up taking significant jibes at each other. I am currently wondering whether I should go into Healing or Mysteries. I am not sure what my specialty would be and I am perfectly capable of learning how to work in the field in either vocation. I think I will ask Healer Mayfair out for lunch to talk. I have not kept in touch enough this last year, but I do value his opinion and he is impartial compared to asking Oceania hers, even if he is a little less informed. Perhaps he might know of options I don't know. He is a Healer so in the very least he could tell me what the profession is like day to day and such.

But I think one of the pressing problems I have right now is moving out of the house. I cannot and likely will not be able to afford a flat to myself. Most of the people who were in my year I would never even have nightmares of being their flatmate. I just want someone who is responsible, focused, and considerate. I'm hoping that isn't too much to ask. I've had a suggestion or two relayed to me, but...I'll just put an ad in the Prophet or something.

One more note, my NEWT scores came back and I think that is why mother is being a little less stringent.
I didn't get enough letters to spell a word...except for maybe oooo...save for a rogue E. I thought I would get more Es and a few Os, but I'm glad I've proved myself wrong once again. Still, that one E. I could slice it off with a slip of my wand.

Beck

Saturday, 28 September 1977

Mon, 30 Jan 2006 10:30:53 GMT

Hmm. That was interesting. Val said he doesn't want to date me right now because he doesn't want things to change. I said okay. It wasn't like we were getting to see each other more or anything. We are both very busy this year. On another note, he certainly is an excellent scientist. Eventually I'll be able to say I told you so. He wants me to spearhead an idea he has gotten for a project. The eventual goal would be to find a counteragent for a poison. In other words, a residual substance that would act as a saboteur, armor to a poison. I am tempted to call it an obfuscator. The most obvious method for doing this would be to discover what a poison targets and confuse it in some manner. This might involve masking, misdirection, or confrontation. A confrontation seems like it would involve neutralizing the harmful aspects of a poison, and this might be the easiest way. To adapt known antidotes into residual ones. After some thinking, what if we were able to develop a substance that would be able to do its work right as any blood-traveling poison entered the stream? Is it possible to create something that will cause the poison to be encapsulated or contained until someone is able to get to an antidote? This might highly increase the chances of survival for victims. The potion's lifetime would be more important post-poison than pre-poison. Residual antidotes don't seem very useful since who would want to be pumped full of potions like that? If someone is going to be poisoned, it is more likely that the victim won't know what poison is going to enter their system. Still, that might be useful for people who handle poisonous creatures on a regular basis, especially if a residual antidote were able to endure multiple infections over its lifetime. Clearly I am not going to see actual products by the end of my Hogwarts career. We will be lucky if we are able to isolate what nightshade targets using sleeping potions. It is way too late. My thoughts are coming out in a spray. I think I will write to Healer Mayfair on this. It is his area and he might be able to provide me with some information pertaining to it, whether it has been tried before, and whether there is some research already available to work off of.

Val said he will write up some things. He wants Professor Salamander and Griffin on board with it. I told him we ought to have Professor Clarke. It would be foolish not to given her resources. It's only logical since if this is approved, and it is going to be hard getting it approved I believe, I'll probably be reporting to her and Professor Salamander anyways in excessive detail. Besides, the more the merrier, since we will need a professor present. I really hope we can get this off the ground. I could spend a lifetime isolating and if that's what it takes to actually do it, it would be worth it. Really, this could be adapted to other harmful substances such as those found in cigarettes and alcohol, assuming that it lead to a encapsulation which could be directed towards the urinary track.

Beck

Before school 1977

Mon, 16 Jan 2006 09:42:41 GMT

Val killed people. This should disturb me right? I should be afraid of him, but I only find myself worried for him, his health, his future. I now remember why I've been so grouchy towards people, because if I'm not ruthlessly grouchy, I find something admirable or salvagable in them. Nothing so romantic, just very human. This is going to be an interesting year. I think I agreed to give whatever a go with Val. How did things get to this point? Shouldn't I be a little disconcerted that I just consented to trying romance with a known killer? Heh. This is somewhat humorous in some twisted way that makes you have to laugh.

It's just that I don't think he's any different than before. I think most people have the capacity for atrocities and that most people just can't stomach themselves. Some are just too horrified by the prospect to let it ever happen. I could be wrong. I don't know why he did it. Knowing Val, him doing anything probably is necessary in some way. I am a little puzzled though. He mentioned asking me out on a date as if a dying prospect. We have never really talked about anything beyond friendship so why would he bring it up if it was already lost? I suppose he has to dream and I kept that dream alive. He thinks the possibility of a research lab is now lost because of his reputation now, but he doesn't want to let it go. Perhaps I am overstepping my boundaries, but I don't want him to let it go. I think it is good for him and for now, I think I will stand by him. We have never really had any firm loyalty attributed to our friendship on either side. It was merely symbiotic. I have to admit, in the eyes of the law, he made a grave decision, but I don't think he is inhuman; I think he hides it well. Whether that is the truth or not, it gives me reason not to give up on him. That is one thing that everyone needs. People who try to understand and people who preserve other's hope. I think that is a noble thing.

Rebecca

Some day before Valentine's Dance (backdated)

Mon, 03 Oct 2005 11:09:00 GMT

I fear that this summer will be a prison for me. Had a talk with mother. She wants to force me to only take a part time internship at the Ministry. I'm at a loss for what to do. I'm seventeen, and this isn't the only limitation she is putting on me. She has booked up every day with frivolous activities. On top of this she is not only having me attend to gentleman callers, but limiting my library time...to an hour. If I am good I get an hour.

She is going to destroy my education. I am already miserable just thinking about it. I don't think any of my professors would care and I'm pretty sure the Headmaster has more important things to do than settle a daughter's disputes with her mother. ~~I just wish I had enough nerve to fling myself off the battlements to let the gargoyles catch me so at least someone would pay attention to what I really care about~~...not that I would do such a stupid thing like that.

I wrote to Ms. Oceania Swann. She was the only one I could think of to entreat to. Now I wait for her response. I think the letter was a bit frazzled. I wrote it in such a hurry.

I don't want to be an Astin anymore. Not that I ever asked to be one, or ever wanted to be one. Father doesn't seem to help. JM just plays enough not to get hurt, and Rose has completely succumbed to bending to my mother's will despite what shy says. She's her clone, even though I love her dearly.

Beck

Log: Valentine Part One (1/3)

Thu, 29 Sep 2005 04:37:06 GMT

"A Valentine Part One"

Starring: Lots of people and Val and Beck. XD
When: February 15, 1977. Valentine Dance Night.
Where: Great Hall and then some classroom.
Synopsis: Val and Beck's date.
Chronology: Val and Beck's first date to the Valentine's Dance!

Watch for: CLEAVAGE SHOT!...ahem..and more really cracked courting.
Rating: Pg-13

Dusty Corridor

A curious smell hangs thick in the air, one of sharp mildew and aged
leather. Dust lies thick in the corners of this seldom-used corridor,
and there are no paintings or furnishings to brighten up the grey
monotony. Flagged stone floors are swept clean only by the tread of
feet, a fact which has left the traces of steps and the swishing lines
of robes and cloaks. There are strange shifts and uneven steps, which
call for caution to avoid tripping.
Most of the doors refuse to open along this corridor, no matter who
knocks upon them. Cobwebs have gathered in the corners of the doorways,
resembling nothing so much as fine, silken shrouds. They have also
formed airy canopies across the gaps between tall, narrow bookcases,
whose shelves are weighted down with obscure, forgotten tomes. Two
statues stand along the walls; one a gargoyle, the other a scholarly
Witch.
This is what the room looks like by natural daylight to creatures that
aren't blinded by bright light. Fair weather clouds drift through the
blue sky from the west, along with the wind. The sunlight on the snow
is dazzling, and it gleams on the ice.

Humans:
Val Beck
Obvious Exits:

+view is in effect in this room. Type '+view here' to get a list of the
items you can get a closer look at. For more help type '+help view'.

Beck steps out of the Ravenclaw common room and takes a deep breath,
letting it out in a small, long sigh. She looks down at her robes. Well
this is as much as she could get from her mother. At least she was able
to talk the woman down from the more "bold" styles. Beck seems pleased
enough though and waits for Val, since this is where they said they'd
meet before going down.

Valentine Selkirk is a pale boy of perhaps twelve or thirteen,
possessing a slender build that falls just short of being scrawny.
Despite being all arms and legs, it is not easy to dismiss him as one
more boy in the throes of transitional adolescence. His luxurious hair,
always distinctive, has grown thicker and more vividly colored...but
darker. It is still an almost obscenely brilliant gold, but the first
hints of bronze have begun to encroach upon its glittering depths. A
pair of ocean-blue eyes, in past years a trifle absent, have now given
themselves almost entirely over to a heavily-lidded murkiness...an
impenetrable, hollow gaze, an empty attic long since abandoned to
cobwebs in which anything might be imagined. Though fine, his pale skin
is quite translucent save for the smallest trace of ashiness and an
almost unhealthy flush along his cheekbones. Like the rest of him, his
chin and jaw are finely formed and, while determined, add to a general
ambiance of unconscious elegance that shows no sign of fading even as
childhood slowly slinks away.
Concerto in blue and grey minor.
Val has many faults. His choice of a well-cut grey vest and trousers,
coupled with a loosely cut light blue dress shirt do nothing to bulk
the slight boy out. The trio only really serve to emphasize his
slenderness, to a degree where it might almost be termed 'twigginess'.
By contrast, his dress robes are too large, almost laughably
voluminous, and their thick folds fall in an almost painfully
melodramatic waterfall of black fabric. His shoes are a bit too dull,
though not scuffed, his posture too imperious, and his unbuttoned
collar dips too low, allowing a glimpse of his gracefully arched
collarbone.
And yet, while each individual article of clothing, taken by itself,
might be thin...reedy...overdone or melodramatic by turns, taken
together they form an inseparable coupling of melody and harmony, with
just enough dissonance to make things interesting. Misplace a button,
and he loses substance, alter his vest and the whole structure falls.
Like an castle built of poorly cut cards, Val is an exercise in
balance, a brilliantly crafted blend of imperfections.

"Was that sigh for me?" a familiar voice observes, its tones tinged
with amusement. Val straightens from where he's been leaning against
the wall some ways down the corridor, and there's a sudden flash of
white that streams forth from his right hand, tumbling elegantly
through the air as it arcs its way towards Beck. "Here. Catch." Of
course, they're roses...but he wouldn't be so daft as to try for red.
No, they're white. Friendship is -quite- enough for him, at this point.

"No. It was for me," Beck says nonchalantly and casts a smile Val's
way. She catches the roses easily and then inspects them. "White.
Excellent." Friendship is enough for her too. "A painting of elegant
balance." She sniffs the roses and grins. "One moment." She ducks back
into the common room to put the roses away. No sense in carrying them
all night. When she steps out she gestures, "Shall we?"

Val pretends he doesn't know -what- the heck Beck is talking about
(even though this getup -obviously- took him hours), and simply offers
her a vaguely mistified look. "Your mother would be proud" he comments,
softly. Already starting with the barbs, are we Val? Nevertheless, the
smile he offers her is calculated to be soft enough to take most of the
edge off his words, and he steps closer, offering the girl one
unusually bare hand, palm-up. "Whenever you're ready."

"She was..unfortunately," Beck says with a shrug and a tilt of her
head. "I'll have plenty of times to undermine her influence on me." She
takes Val's hand with a pleasant smile. She falls into step with him as
they head on down to the dance.

"Do you -really- dislike her all that much?" Val wonders, keeping his
touch on her hand light, aloof, simply there for formality's sake. They
might as well simply be walking along companionably, with their hands
shoved in their pockets. Not that Beck would ever do that, of course.
"For what it's worth, -I- think you look gorgeous." He shrugs,
enigmatically. "And I'm certain she ca...likes you, in her own way."

"No, but it is fun to undermine her. I can say that I'm not too happy
about the way she thinks of me ninety percent of the time, and that is
what I could be for her instead of what I am." Rebecca smiles softly
and says, "Let's just...not talk about her. And thank you."

For a moment, something goes...horribly wrong, as though the very
planes of existance were breaking into sharp angles, wrenching,
twisting...and the reason is soon abundantly clear. Val has swung
around from his position by her side, with nary a warning, and has
lifted his hand to Beck's chin, his second finger gently pressing
against the line of her jaw and, for all the lightness of his touch,
seems fairly insistant when it comes to tilting her gaze upwards. For a
few moments, his gaze flickers over her features, scrutinizing,
analyzing, concluding, and then his head tilts to one side as his
expression becomes puzzled. "Huh." he manages, at length, evidently not
understanding something /what/soever.

Beck was not expecting this. No. This was not even within the realm of
possibility. Was it just that it was too much horror for her
nightmare's or just simply not following laws of the natural and
magical world. Either way, Beck is taken by complete surprise by Val's
move. He's by her side and then his hand is /where/?! So bold for their
roughly Victorian sense of friendship. Her chin lifts at his touch,
guided so her eyes rise after a surprised flutter of her eyelashes. Her
expression is mostly blank. She says nothing, only drawing a deep
breath and finally slipping away from his touch by shifting her
position.

Val just watches her retreat with pursed lips for a few moments until
the pounding of hundreds of feet brings him back to his senses. Yes, of
course, the dance is about to start. He stays where he is until the
pounding passes them by, fading into the darkened depths of the castle
before pivoting back to his original position. "We should go," he
remarks, lucidly, as though Beck's little experience was indeed little
more than a nightmare that only she was aware of. "The music gets
steadily worse as the night goes on, after all."

Beck swallows. Her mind? It's bloody blank! For the first time she
doesn't know what to make of something. Congratulations Val, you've
left her speechless. She nods at his worlds and as he takes his
original position, an expression of soft perplexity falls on her
features. In the wake of this event, her appearance, her expression,
her manner has softened, no longer the harsh, stern air that she
usually has when in Val's presence. He's disarmed her. "Yes," she
finally says.

Only in disarming her, Val's somehow managed to disarm himself as well,
and there's the barest moment of concern as his own expression softens.
Not much, it is true, but enough to reveal a chink. Enough for him to
be shocked back, possibly hurt. "Sorry" comes the feather-light
apology, as he attempts to take her by the arm." And then his lips
twitch, almost grinning. "I can put you in a wheelbarrow and roll you
on down, if you like."

Beck takes this moment to straighten up and straighten herself out, but
the guardedness does not quite return wholly. "Don't apologize unless
you regret it yourself," she says, a light smile settling on her lips.
"I think my legs have remained intact, and a wheelbarrow isn't exactly
my idea of an opulent entrance," her smile widens graciously.

"There's only one thing that might cause me to outright regret it"
comes the faintly teasing response, accompanied by an eloquent, somehow
fluid arch of his eyebrow. Again, there's that enigmatic little smile
that, from anyone else, might not be considered -entirely- appropriate;
there's no telling -what- it might be hinting at. "I could decorate the
wheelbarrow" he suggests. "And have you hold a Monet on the way down."

Beck looks at Val with a devious smile, "That might be a little too
flashy, but just garish enough to be uproariously funny. Too bad I'm no
class clown. Would I be prying if asked what would make you regret it?"
And they are on their way! Woo!

Val waits until the sound of his shoe-clicks changes, indicating the
transition from hallway to stairwell before replying. "Yes, you would
be prying" he murmurs, risking a glance at her out of the corner of his
eyes though he's still smiling. "But I -suppose- I -could- let you
know." Augh, he's being -insufferably- -excruciating- again, and
yet...it isn't so very long before he relents. "Oh, well, why not. I'd
regret it if it made you too uncomfortable. Obviously, it hasn't. Has
it?"

Log: Valentine Part One (3/3)

Thu, 29 Sep 2005 04:32:56 GMT

oOo Anywhere #7 oOo

This is an anywhere room. Using the commands available here, you can
convert this room into whatever you need on a temporary basis. The room
is set Abode so you can link here for as long as you need the room for
your plot and it is also set up so that the person who is assigned as
'renter' of the room can lock the exits so that others can't enter in
the middle of a scene.

DISCLAIMER: If we catch you abusing this room punishment WILL be
severe... potentially including site-locking.

Humans:
Beck
Obvious Exits:

Commands:
+checkout +lock/list
+renter

There's a soft giggle as Val slips into the potions laboratory,
unwinding his robes from his shoulders and neatly tossing them through
the air. The black fabric arcs, almost seeming to pause in mid-air
before snagging upon one of the many cloak-hooks that decorate the wall
beside the door. "Oh, that was -delightful-!" he breathes,
enthusiastically beginning to roll up his shirt-sleeves. Gods, he's
skinny, and that vest only emphasizes it. As usual, he's already
prepared for one of their sessions. Beck's worn off on him a little;
there's no trace of the protective clothing he used to wear, but the
pile of books that's been left on one of the lab tables is certainly
his, as is the cauldron which now occupies the center of the room, and
there's no doubt as to who's set up the ingredients. Three-quarters of
a circle style, unique to Val.

"But, I must say, I don't think we got out a moment too soon."

And Beck has gotten used to coming down and chatting...and assisting
when he'll let her. She's even gotten used to his three-quarters style.
Her stuff is already here too. She would /not/ come unprepared, and
naturally she doesn't like the protective gear if she can get by,
because at some point she believes that increases her chances of being
clumsy. Her kit lies off to the side just in case they need it. She
beams at him and says, "It was indeed." She takes off her cloak and
hangs it up next to Val's, so it takes her a few moments longer since
she walks over to do it, balancing on one leg as she reaches. Then she
comes back. "I must admit it was more than I had hoped for," which is
actually good! if he's looking at her smile.

Val whistles a little under his breath as Beck removes her cloak, and
barely hesitates whatsoever before briskly crossing the room and
retrieving what appears to be a camera from his bag. "I know you told
me not to mention your mum, but I think it might get her off your back
if you were to send her something." The boy's head tilts to one side,
experimentally, his gaze mildly laughing. "But then, you know her best.
What do you think? Should we? Don't worry, I wouldn't keep a copy for
myself, and it certainly wouldn't be spread around the school or
anything. Just one copy, to your mum."

Beck blinks when she turns and sees the camera. "No way. Not for her. I
don't want to encourage it. But I will take one for myself...just to
save for when I'm really in trouble. You can have one if you want. And
it isn't like the school hasn't /already/ seen us dancing together,"
she does have a point. She smiles and bends down a little, hand on a
desk for balance as she reaches down to slip off her shoes. DON'T PEEK
AT THE CLEAVAGE!....because Beck isn't lacking.

[Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<_<>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.]

<lj-cut text="Back in the classroom...">
oOo Anywhere #7 oOo

This is an anywhere room. Using the commands available here, you can
convert this room into whatever you need on a temporary basis. The room
is set Abode so you can link here for as long as you need the room for
your plot and it is also set up so that the person who is assigned as
'renter' of the room can lock the exits so that others can't enter in
the middle of a scene.

DISCLAIMER: If we catch you abusing this room punishment WILL be
severe... potentially including site-locking.

Humans:
Beck
Obvious Exits:

Commands:
+checkout +lock/list
+renter

There's a soft giggle as Val slips into the potions laboratory,
unwinding his robes from his shoulders and neatly tossing them through
the air. The black fabric arcs, almost seeming to pause in mid-air
before snagging upon one of the many cloak-hooks that decorate the wall
beside the door. "Oh, that was -delightful-!" he breathes,
enthusiastically beginning to roll up his shirt-sleeves. Gods, he's
skinny, and that vest only emphasizes it. As usual, he's already
prepared for one of their sessions. Beck's worn off on him a little;
there's no trace of the protective clothing he used to wear, but the
pile of books that's been left on one of the lab tables is certainly
his, as is the cauldron which now occupies the center of the room, and
there's no doubt as to who's set up the ingredients. Three-quarters of
a circle style, unique to Val.

"But, I must say, I don't think we got out a moment too soon."

And Beck has gotten used to coming down and chatting...and assisting
when he'll let her. She's even gotten used to his three-quarters style.
Her stuff is already here too. She would /not/ come unprepared, and
naturally she doesn't like the protective gear if she can get by,
because at some point she believes that increases her chances of being
clumsy. Her kit lies off to the side just in case they need it. She
beams at him and says, "It was indeed." She takes off her cloak and
hangs it up next to Val's, so it takes her a few moments longer since
she walks over to do it, balancing on one leg as she reaches. Then she
comes back. "I must admit it was more than I had hoped for," which is
actually good! if he's looking at her smile.

Val whistles a little under his breath as Beck removes her cloak, and
barely hesitates whatsoever before briskly crossing the room and
retrieving what appears to be a camera from his bag. "I know you told
me not to mention your mum, but I think it might get her off your back
if you were to send her something." The boy's head tilts to one side,
experimentally, his gaze mildly laughing. "But then, you know her best.
What do you think? Should we? Don't worry, I wouldn't keep a copy for
myself, and it certainly wouldn't be spread around the school or
anything. Just one copy, to your mum."

Beck blinks when she turns and sees the camera. "No way. Not for her. I
don't want to encourage it. But I will take one for myself...just to
save for when I'm really in trouble. You can have one if you want. And
it isn't like the school hasn't /already/ seen us dancing together,"
she does have a point. She smiles and bends down a little, hand on a
desk for balance as she reaches down to slip off her shoes. DON'T PEEK
AT THE CLEAVAGE!....because Beck isn't lacking. <_< >_>

And yet, Val turns away just a little, allowing his gaze to roam
upwards towards the ceiling. Just because it's there? Doesn't mean he's
going to offend her by -looking-. "I've already gotten pictures" the
boy remarks, softly, absently, taking great care -not- to point out
that the school didn't see her cloakless. "But you're welcome to keep
them if you like. I still think that it might be better if you send one
to your m...ahh...d'you need help balancing there, Rebecca? You look
like you're about ready to fall over."

Thank you Val...You did the right thing. No hemlock for you. "Since
when do /you/ have pictures of me like this?" She arches her brow at
Val and smiles when she straightens up. "I'm fine. I have excellent
balance except when I'm sabotaged on the dance floor," she teases with
a small smile. "I told you. I want one. I'll give it to her, when the
time is right. Maybe for her birthday or something." See? There is love
there...it's just cloudy.

Val raises one hand to brush a stray bit of gold behind one ear,
simultaneously indicating his head. "Right here, and since now" he
replies, with a shy sort of grin. "By the way, sorry about that. I
suppose I should've saved a -different- tune for us to try. That one
-was- awfully cruel." But fun, and Val doesn't look at all sorry that
it happened. Come to think of it, he doesn't even look mildly ashamed
that he isn't sorry. "Alright, c'mon. Let's get this shot done.
Palmer's getting jealous, you know."

"Are you going to be in it with me or no?" Beck asks. "I think you
should, just for tripping me up on the dance floor." She tilts her head
to the side slightly, amber eyes sparkling softly in the light,
something mischievous to them yet kind. She says, "Well I'm ready when
you are. Where do you want me Maestro?" She winks softly.

"If it's going to your mother" Val observes mildly, as though this were
the most natural and obvious conclusion in the world, "I imagine it
-would- be best to have me in the shot, wouldn't it." For all the
seeming carelessness with which he delivers this line, his eyes
continue to dance, playfully, teasingly. "Oh, I'd like you -anywhere-.
Seriously." The camera is sent aloft with a flick of Val's wand, and
there it hangs, oscillating from side to side, very slightly. "It's
your photograph, after all. Select a spot and I'll set the camera to a
time-delay."

Beck just smirks at Val's comments. "I don't know if I should be
slapping you or what. Come on." She grins and gets into position in
front of the camera, the potions setup kind of off to the side and in
the background. What a lovely telling picture. She waits for Val but
hasn't really thought of how they would pose or anything. She just
clasps her hands in front of her like a good society girl. Val can do
what he wants.

Oh, that won't do at all. Hopefully not for something -she- wants to
keep, at least. Val sights through the camera, steadying it so it is
pointed just to Beck's left, leaving room for one more person in the
picture. That spot is soon filled by Val himself, as he, too, adopts a
pose. While it's not -quite- so formal as Beck's, there's definitely
very little intimacy, or even familiarity about it. He stands, perhaps,
one foot away, his left arm lightly resting upon his waist with his
right hand hanging down by his side, loosely. It might be noted that
he's making certain the potions ingredients are blocked out. "Alright.
For your mother, then." the boy announces, softly. And his smile? Yup,
it's -the- smile. The one he used on Beck, which failed, but he's
betting it'll certainly work on her mumsie dearest.

Probably will...anything would work for mumsie dearest...Beck's in a
dress...with a pureblood. Mum will be so proud. Beck offers the camera
a smile. It's a real smile and it's happy. She's having a fun time with
Val, but she looks over at him out of the corner of her eyes right
before the camera clicks and him pulling his innocent smile on her
mother makes the girl just /laugh/ through her smile, the smile
blossoming more and *CLICK* What a great picture. "Oops! I wasn't
looking!"

There's a slight whirring noise as the picture flows out of the camera,
and Val summons it with a quick snap of his wand-wrist. Heavy on the
spell-usage, isn't he. "You can only barely tell" he points out, after
a few seconds of his blue-gaze sweeping over the picture's surface,
then hands it over to her for inspection. "We can get another one for
your mum, then something a little less -stifling- for you, I should
think." A wicked little grin spreads over his lips, and his eyebrows
climb a fraction of an inch. "One with our potions in the -foreground-,
I think. Your mum would have a fit if she saw -that- one."

Subsequent peeking, over Beck's shoulder, earns a laugh. "You look all
cross-eyed, like a beaver suddenly jumped out of the floor in front of
you."

"She'd put rings on our fingers and shove us off and say, 'Go make some
heirs,'" Beck says evenly with a smirk as she looks at the picture. "I
like this one, but I agree. Another one for Mum. We'll just take a
few." and then at the peanut gallery comment Beck elbows Val. It isn't
too hard. It's playful.

Maybe it isn't hard, but Val's horribly ticklish, and he's just emitted
a high-pitched squeak as the camera flashes -again-. Oops, looks like
someone neglected to use a termination charm on that thing. "Eguuuh"
Val mutters, turning a brilliant shade of red, foregoing spellcasting
as he just -lunges- at the photo which has begun to be spat out. "The
world? Is -never- going to see this one."

Beck is /also/ lunging for the photo. MINE! She's /quick/ for such a
bookish thing. Must be the Quidditch blood in her. Mwahaha! She gets to
the camera before Val and snatches the photo. "Yeah maybe not but it's
mine now," she says in a sing songy voice with a smile. Jackpot. And if
she doesn't get away from the camera it's going to have a cleavage
shot. Well not quite...but yeah. XD

"Not fair!" Val has time to wail, before the camera snaps a third time,
right on cue. Of course, Val's right there to nab the photo as it comes
out, and a quick glance is quite enough to reassure him that it is,
indeed, a photo of what he'd hoped. "Darling" he fairly coos, his lips
quirking into a grin. "I've got something worse than what you've got,
but I -might- be willing to make a trade. -Possibly-." He pretends to
take another look at the photograph, feigning admiration though his
gaze is, in fact, fixed on a shred of bicorn horn some six feet further
out beyond the picture.

Beck is gazing admirably at her Val blackmail picture and then damnit!
She looks up, "Huh? What?" She looks over his shoulder and shrugs.
"Keep it. I'm not giving this up for the world. Well not to you."
She'll suffer with a stalemate and returns to her kit to grab her wand
and safely stow it away in a secret compartment, warding it afterwards.

"Accio!" But, no, it's too late. Beck's already got the picture warded.
Val looks nothing less than disgruntled. "What'm I supposed to do with
-this-?" he inquires of the ceiling, before shaking his head and
tossing the cleavage shot in Beck's direction. Truth is, he didn't want
it at all, and was just going to use it for leverage. But, whether
she's bluffing or not, he simply hasn't got the heart to continue.
Besides, it's not -that- bad of a photo, right?" Click. Just empty air,
this time, with Beck facing away from the camera way off to the left
side. "I don't suppose you believe in fair play, and would consider
giving me a free photo?"

"Sure. Why not. One you actually want and I don't want you to have? I
like upping the stakes every once in awhile." Beck says with a smile as
she turns around. She zaps the cleavage shot with a an incendio and it
bursts up in flames on the stone floor and promptly becomes a small
pile of ash.

"I'm not using it for blackmail" Val replies, with a quirk of a grin.
"Honestly, Clara's got shots of me doing Elvis impersonations, so
-your- shot doesn't have very high stakes associated with it. You're
welcome to it, though, if you want to keep it for some reason." The
Gryffindor is momentarily distracted by the incendio (oooooh,
fiiiiire), but his interest in it vanishes along with the flames, and
he turns his attentions back to Beck. "No, it's just a picture I think
I might like to have. Perhaps. We'll have to see." His movements are
almost alarmingly fast; there's a sudden burst of cat-like energy, and
then he's got her by her waist and is insistently tugging her off to a
place just behind the cauldron, so close that his pant-leg brushes
against the metallic belly. Once in position he steps towards her, just
enough for his arms to fully encircle her with hands linking against
the small of her back though he still keeps a few inches of separation;
his smile is soft, even a little shy, despite the laughter that plays
along its edges. All in all, the picture is quite suitable. The pair
are framed by their beloved texts and ingredients, and just in front of
them is the cauldron, from which a few, limp trails of steam emerge at
irregular intervals.

Beck blinks as she is being pulled towards the cauldron, "This doesn't
involve me being cooked does it?" comes her reply and then wham! His
arms are about her waist and she's facing towards him. Beck? Well she
just laughs and said, "If I didn't know better I'd think you were
trying to suggest something." The cauldron being so sacred to them it's
practically like an altar! She humors him and then *SNAP!* Then she
gets up on her tippy toes to get him back for it. She's an Astin. He's
going to find out this side of her at some point. She gives him a quick
little playful kiss on the cheek, giving him just enough time to react
and recover if he wishes.

Well, at least the photo was as he wished it, though the low humming of
its being ejected is ignored by the boy, who is simply offering Beck a
curious, curious little look. Amusement, mild confusion, impishness,
even a little streak of 'how can I get her back'? But he doesn't try to
do so, and instead remains where he is, answering her teasing with an
impenetrable silence. "So," he murmurs at length, softly, ever so
softly. "Palmer?" How odd he looks, when his features suddenly go as
soft as they have...soft, save for one thing, those eyes of his, which
glitter as sharply as ever. Cool, collected, though even -they- are not
so harsh as usual. Is that a small amount of fondness that leaks
through?

Beck's head tilts up and to the side, a charming smile coming to her
lips. Hee hee. He'll have to get her back later. She watches him, her
eyes calculating the circumstance lightly, him lightly. She taps her
fingers on the back of his neck and her eyes travel upwards as if she's
thinking. "Palmer." SNAP. Such adorable photos. No one ever has to see
them but them. She doesn't seem to care really. She's forgotten about
the camera. "He /has/ been waiting," she says with a smirk.

Val smiles in return, teasingly. The expression isn't a blaze of light,
nor is it expansive and reassuring. It almost borders on mocking,
though it is not quite sharp enough for that. It is almost sweet,
though there's too much mockery for -that-. There is an element of
vulnerability, tempered by willful resilience, and as always, a
calculation. His hands disengage from about her, just long enough for
his right hand to rise to her face, the pad of his second finger gently
trailing over her cheekbone in concert with yet another SNAP.

And then his expression falls. It is no less enthusiastic, but Beck is
clearly no longer the first thing on the boy's mind as he paces over to
where his secondary references have been strewn. "Page two hundred and
seventy three" he raps out, his tones brisk, clean, efficient. He
always reminds her of the page number, even though he knows full well
she'd never, ever forget it. "Dynamic Reaction Termination."
<lj-cut>

February 9, 1977. Later that evening.

Mon, 26 Sep 2005 13:08:31 GMT

It has occurred to me, after all of that explication, I failed to attain any clarity. However, in constant review of what happened since I wrote on it, I now realize I have committed a dreadful act. I have done something to Val I would not have wished on myself; I treated him like my mother. Of all the people to start taking after...This is something I must extinguish immediately and I do owe Val an apology. I will try and find him tomorrow.

Beck

Mon, 26 Sep 2005 11:10:52 GMT

It was done freehand with pencil. Sadly it wasn't scanned so I had to go in and adjust contrast and little junk like that...still too blurry for my tastes...man I haven't drawn in years...and even then not much at all.

February 9, 1977.

Mon, 26 Sep 2005 00:59:49 GMT

As always, Val has proven to be most agreeable company. In a sense he has lightened my mood. In the least, he is intellectually engaging, and that is saying a lot for a fourteen year old if one is to judge in comparison. It says even more when, up to this point in my life, I have yet to encounter someone smart enough to engage me in such a way, bold enough to try it, and stupid enough to suffer through it. It is the combination of all three which wins my ongoing attention. He is a good three years younger than I am which is something I continue to refer to in my ongoing study of his character, for I admit that sometimes I find myself forgetting it.

If comparison is once again used as a means of gauging my particular relationships over the years at this institution I am forced to admit that Val is the closest thing to a friend that I have found. I will always have Elaine, and while she is most amusing, has her own brand of intelligence, and shares my own detestment of garish, emptyheaded girls, she has not engaged me in such a way that demands my entire attention. In a different way, Nate was extremely intelligent and I am inclined to say he far surpassed Val, but yet again it was about him not being annoying. Nate was someone I got along with and someone I felt comfortable with. He may have truly loved me. His words may have been true, but I have never seen comfort as necessarily one of the essential traits of a relationship for me.

Up until now, I feel as if Val has been fun to toy with. It is an ugly thing to say, but I don't claim to be without faults in the end. I do not feel a bit of remorse for I know he knows it, I know it, and the banter we exchange has usually wrought a mutual produce of amusement. In saying all of this I am not meaning to imply that there is, was, or ever would be romantic feelings between us, nor that our periodic jaunts into similar pasttimes has stimulated affection. It is extremely complicated and I suppose recording the facts would be more conducive than spouting undirected, muddled observations.

Val asked me to save him a dance at the next upcoming display of social squalor. While I have just stated that his presence is more agreeable than most I have met from this school, this does not constitute enough reason to subject myself to the prattling of bubbly girls or waste my time sniping with Elaine, even if it does have its moments. I can snipe at braindead birds all week long; they infest the hallways enough that I don't need to merit them with a special occasion for the pasttime. So I kindly pointed it out to him that given the rest of the evening, and despite the endless joy it would bring me to dance in front of my peers and step on their toes, it simply would not be worth it. The time could be put to much better use by spending it on preparing for NEWTs, no matter how much him tossing in a palmsized portrait of his insane Great Great Grand Aunt Martha for the night and a ball of string sweetens the deal.

So I offered that he lend me his arm as his date for the night barring that he doesn't leave me to the vultures of borish conversation and in the company of unintelligent signs of life in this universe. In turn, he proposed that we cut the night short and spend the other half brewing in the lab, which I must admit, was an excellent idea. We both agreed to it and to our preferences of not looking like mismatching fools; I think the desire to not look like the hordes of matching clone couples was an unspoken given.

The next moment of importance was his abrupt departure and an indirect exclusion of my presence from something he had allowed to me earlier in the conversation. I do not know what prompted his playful ploy of feigned innocence. To me it was a distasteful slap in the face to my intelligence. But it wasn't just the meer offering of it that insulted me. The offering I could simply write off as a knowing tease. He wanted to play hardball and took our interaction to a new level, so I quipped derisively. A simple indirect mock of a dismissive mother. I knew I was likely striking a nerve, but he so clearly upped the stakes and pointed me in that direction with his own ploy. I'm not so ignorant of him as to not realize he reserves that ploy for dullwitted adults. He failed, but not in his attempt to outwit me. He failed in falling prey to my ploy, which only leads me to conclude that he most likely believed that I would fall for his. It left me feeling dissappointed and oddly insulted. In my analysis I might be completely off, however considering a miscalculation does nothing to wash away the unpleasant taste it left in my mouth.

His departing smile suggested so many things, but I believe I stimulated some uncharacteristic cowardice in him.

Regardless of all possibilities, one thing was clear, we both stung each other's pride. I misjudged him in the moment and rubbed it in. This certainly is nothing to be proud of.

Beck

Reflection from Hogwarts after the DA Attack

Wed, 21 Sep 2005 17:43:09 GMT

There was another attack and it was horrid from the casualties I've heard. Of course the rumors are bound to be worse, but at what point to the rumors start being better than the fodder? This might be one of those unfortunate times. Nate, well I try not to think of what he'd be doing right now. He was a nice guy, but I suppose it is simply a matter of accepting that it was his time. It was him or someone else. Should I be glad it wasn't me? Not to say I don't feel bad, but I've been thinking about it and I'm glad I'm still alive. Survivor's guilt. It's a valid reaction. If we all succumbed to it there would be no one left. So some of us have to be selfish for the betterment of everyone and bury the guilt, the fear, and the terror with dead as much as possible. But in the end, who will take care of these cracked vessels who empty themselves to absorb others' burdens?

Beck

I'm going to dye and cut my hair. I need a change. Besides, it's getting too long.

January 1, 1977.

Wed, 07 Sep 2005 03:48:43 GMT

He took me to go iceskating. It was my first time. He said he would protect me. He kissed me and held me as we slipped and slid all over the ice. He said he loved me and then he died. I closed his eyes for him. We were young, but that’s all gone now. He showed me that seemingly purposeless things have value. Now he’s dead. I laid there trapped by his cold arms. Life goes on whether you get over it or not....

Hogsmeade weekend, just before the Christmas of 76.

Thu, 01 Sep 2005 16:23:49 GMT

Nate and I went...well I don't know what to call it. I guess it was a date. He managed to get me to make snow angels. Snow angels. There isn't a real purpose for them besides misplaced nostalgia...or rather manufactured nostalgia, but it was fun. I'm glad I did it. Now it isn't manufactured for me anymore. We had fun, the content kind of fun. Not fleeting elation. He held my hand and kissed me again. I think I'm going to give him one of my books. I could get him one, but I think this means more. It's a well loved gift. I'm going to write him and see if we can meet up over the holidays. I don't care if mum locks me up in a tower, this is a person who doesn't get on my nerves and I feel...just fine around him. I think that's the only way to describe it without attaching unwanted connotations.

Beck

OOC: The Christmas List

Thu, 25 Aug 2005 19:43:43 GMT

Leave a comment if your char is listed on what they might want for Christmas.

Val
Nate
Izzy
Elaine
JM

Anyone you think should be on here that I just fizzed out and forgot? Just let me know.

Heaven knows when I'll fill this in later...BECK'S FIRST KISS! XD

Fri, 19 Aug 2005 15:26:07 GMT

That was the cutest disaster ever. Oddly enough, on a whim, I went out for a walk tonight. Unfortunately I grabbed the wrong cloak and ended up suffering against the wind for it, but it wasn't for long. Nate was sitting on a bench in the gardens reading. He let me sit by him in the shelter created by a bush that was blocking some of the wind where he was sitting. He had thought things through and had a nice thick cloak on. Well, once I had sat down he did the most curious thing. He took off his glasses and gave them to me. I don't know why, but I liked that. It was cute but not sugary and that was fine with me.

I didn't really have anything planned for this encounter because I wasn't expecting it at all. He saw me shivering somehow and offered to share his cloak. I knew he didn't mean anything by it but kindness. He's just that sort of guy. So, after a moment's thought, I took him up on the offer.

This is when things started going downhill because being the gentleman he is, he reached to pull the cloak about me, only in his blindness, he missed and...well it was only a brush. He immediately began to fumble his apology, but I'm glad he did something instead of just saying he was sorry a billion times. It shows good character. Well what he did was with good intentions, but it didn't exactly pan out so well. Now I know not to be in such close proximity with him when he's sans spectacles unless I'm for the completely unintended advances. He was going to accidentally kiss my cheek. In hopes of restoring some of his confidence...and besides, he's not a bad looking guy at all...I turned my head to kiss him.

Well, at first, it didn't seem to turn out spectacular results. Basically, the result was us with our lips pressed together and that was about it. He looked like he wanted to flee afterwards but was too afraid he might end up running into the lake at some point or a wall..or maybe even some sinister carnivorous plant in the Forbidden Forest. I offered him back his glasses and said he could leave if he wanted-I wasn't there to torment him. He put them on and then did something unexpected. I was wrong when I had thought my move had failed to do him good. He then asked me if I would mind him kissing me again, but this time on purpose. The boy is so charmingly innocent and sincere. I couldn't help but at least feel the same way around him. I simply told him that I had turned my head. Looking back, I do not regret my words. I don't just like giving things away and fortunately, he was intelligent enough, and more importantly, gutsy enough to rise to the challenge and take a chance. This I count as my first kiss. It was sweet, sincere, and precise...everything I have hoped it would be.

Beck

(Date to be added later)

Thu, 18 Aug 2005 14:48:27 GMT

So I kind of have a new experiment. Let's just call it Val. It's a social experiment and by those standards I actually have two. I've also come to like leading Nate around without his glasses. It's probably cruel but I enjoy watching him wandering about, groping the air as if it had handles. He's a sweet guy and he's really intelligent even if he's not the best at showing it sometimes. Blind as a bat but that doesn't really matter does it? We keep hanging out in the common room together and he asked me about my lab book. There is no way in hell I'm showing anyone that.

Well I got some useful information out of Val, although I must admit, fairly predictable and nothing new. I recorded it all down anyways. I think I might have scared him a little. It's funny. Just because I are quiet or avoid people, people seem to generally think I am harmless I guess. I think I'll use that to my advantage in my observations. Maybe they just think I'm weak. I'm not sure.

I got a letter from Healer Mayfair the other day oddly enough. I hadn't heard from him since he was instructing me how to save his kidney and his life. It was a thank you letter. He also offered a general invitation of service in any matter if I should need it. So I took him up on it. I asked him to get me in touch with some Mindhealers, and Unspeakable, and then asked him if he had come across any toxins which induce psychosis. I could tell in his response that he was trying to deter me from investigating and further study of this area. I don't think it made him comfortable that a sixth year was asking about such dangerous types of poisons. Granted this is all ungrounded speculation. He did list a few of them though sadly, I doubt that I would be given permission to do a project on them. They are probably way too dangerous. I will still ask Professor Clarke and Salmander though just in case I might be wrong.

What I've found out about my two newest subjects:
Val
-Rash
-Foolish
-Judgmental
-And everything else I already knew but he confirmed

Nate
-Seemingly kind
-Extremely intelligent
-Humble
-Probably legally blind without his glasses on
-Naive

Beck

OOC: Taken as Beck.

Tue, 16 Aug 2005 19:13:57 GMT

RAVENCLAW!
You scored 32% Slytherin, 52% Ravenclaw, 20% Gryffindor, and 20% Hufflepuff!

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind.

Ravenclaws are known for their intelligence, ingenuity, and lifelong thirst for knowledge.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 72% on Slytherin

You scored higher than 91% on Ravenclaw

You scored higher than 3% on Gryffindor

You scored higher than 11% on Hufflepuff

Link: The Sorting Hat Test written by leeannslytherin on Ok Cupid

X Survey

Thu, 04 Aug 2005 22:46:02 GMT

[ ] Kiss me As A Friend
[ ] Kiss Me As Lovers
[ ] Hug me
[ ] Lick me
[ ] Kill me
[ ] Love me For Me
[ ] Hate me
[ ] Hold me If I Was Upset
[ ] Lie to me
[ ] Be true to me
[ ] Hurt me
[ ] Sing with me
[ ] Dance with me
[ ] Cuddle with me
[ ] Let me make a move on you
[ ] Make a move on me
[ ] Caress me
[ ] Date me
[ ] Go out with me
[ ] Please me in more ways then 1
[ ] Let me kiss you up and down
[ ] Watch a movie with me
[ ] Get me a birthday gift
[ ] Let me borrow your car
[ ] Take a shower with me
[ ] Be my bf/gf
[ ] Be there for me
[ ] Buy me a drink
[ ] Bring me around your friends
[ ] Give me a massage
[ ] Take me to the club
[ ] Have sex with me
[ ] Go to sleep with me
[ ] Let me be your first for something
[ ] Skinny dip with me
[ ] Get drunk with me
[ ] Get drunk and make fun of me
[ ] Let me get drunk and make fun of you?
[ ] Be kinky with me
[ ] Take care of me if i wasn't feeling good
[ ] Let me take care of you
[ ] Re-post this for me to answer your questions

(Date to be added later)

Tue, 02 Aug 2005 23:11:25 GMT

Today I ran across Val in a classroom. I was looking for a quiet place to read. Apparently, so was he. I had Palmer with me and he had all these Muggle magazines. He made some room with me and I sat down with him. I let him look at Palmer and he let me look at this incredibly intriguing medical magazine. It was just...wow. I couldn't get enough of it. I have a whole scroll on it so far and I didn't even get through it. That's not even counting my own thoughts on it. I especially liked the passages on emerging mental illnesses. Just fascinating. I think that there might be something to this. He said he would let me see the ones his father sends him each month. I can't wait.

Beck

Hellllo...quiz

Thu, 28 Jul 2005 04:24:35 GMT

WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF:
» I committed suicide:
» I said I liked you:
» I kissed you:
» I lived next door to you:
» I started smoking:
» I stole something:
» I was hospitalized:
» I ran away from home:
» I got into a fight and you weren't there:

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT MY:
» Personality:
» Eyes:
» Face:
» Hair:
» Clothes:
» Mannerisms:

[1] Who are you?
[2] Are we friends?
[3] When and how did we meet?
[4] How have I affected you?
[5] What do you think of me?
[6] What's the fondest memory you have of me?
[7] How long do you think we will be friends or enemies?
[8] Do you love me?
[9] Have I ever hurt you?
[10] Would you hug me?
[11] Would you kiss me?
[12] Are we close?
[13] Emotionally, what stands out?
[14] Do you wish I was cooler?
[15] On a scale of 1-10, how attractive am I?
[16] Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it.
[17] Am I loveable?
[18] How long have you known me?
[19] Describe me in one word.
[20] What was your first impression?
[21] Do you still think that way about me now?
[22] What do you think my weakness is?
[23] Do you think I'll get married?
[24] What about me makes you happy?
[25] What about me makes you sad?
[26] What reminds you of me?
[27] What's something you would change about me?
[28] How well do you know me?
[29] Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn't?
[30] Do you think I would kill someone?
[31] Are you going to put this on your journal and see what I say about you?