noctis.

“Arguably summer is my favorite time of year, but there is something about autumn that is magical, don’t you think? The colors are so vibrant and ironically seem so alive even though they’re dying. It’s cool enough to wear a jacket but not so cold that you feel like your toes are going to fall off. There’s a great ambiance around. Even with the kickoff of school and being in the thick of assignments and exams, I feel calm.” 

“Talking about school, assignments, and exams is making me feel old.” Said with a calm smile, she has her sketchbook in her hands, and it’s flipped open to a vacant page. Well, it’s not that vacant anymore. “I think it’s kind of strange, how everything passes on but that’s where there’s the most beauty to be found. Magic in decay and all that kind of thing. No spells required. And even when it gets that cold? Can’t bring myself to put on much more than a jumper. That chill -- I dunno, kind of reminds you to be alive.”

“Unicorn Lovers! Get your flyer! It’s now or never, kids! If you don’t help them now, they’re gonna be extinct before you can do a thing! Get your flyers!”

“I don’t know which I like more. Your gumption at standing in the street and just shouting, or the fact that the posters have, indeed, moving unicorns on them. A true pulling of sympathy from the passers-by; it seems very successful.” 

“‘M sorry, I really wasn’t taking a picture of you. I was trying to get a few shots for the Prophet. I don’t take photos of people without their permission. Sort of one of those codes or something.”

“Oh! No, don’t worry about it. It happens. Although I’ve got to say, you probably got me with my mouth open, considering I didn’t even see you there. Way too involved in these upcoming deadlines of my own.”

“Public service announcement, Cerberus is the cutest dog in the world – but don’t tell my other dogs I said that, they’ll get jealous.”

“By bloody Merlin, I think I’m the one who’s jealous. Look at that face! Tsk. It’s no wonder he won the prize. You should let him just rub it in with the others, come on!”

          “ —- Oh, absolutely! I’m certain there will be more events like this,” Tamsin continued, soft-spoken but earnest. “Bringing in more artists, performers, musicians, writers—I think it’s an amazing way to bridge the gap, so to speak.”

“You think so? Honestly, that’d be the best thing for especially budding artists. Having a place to just sort of come and mingle. As an illustrator, I can say it’s just so difficult sometimes to find those outlets, ones that you’re comfortable going to.”

“That shoelace is untied, you’ll— Oh. Yeah, that.”

“Oh, dear. That was quite a terrible fall.” No emotion colours his voice, nor is there an expression flitting across his face. “You think we should assign points out of ten for it?”

“Have you ever seen a more beautiful sunset? All these magnificent hues from the softest orange, remnants of a fading daylight, the reds and the yellows and the oranges like flowers heading into winter, clinging on for as long as they can to a vibrant mauve spreading into the deepest of blues as the day finally kisses the night goodbye. Isn’t it just glorious?” 

“Oh, Merlin. I hear talking about colours. That sounds really nice. Are you trying to encourage me to stop and smell the roses? It might work, this rambling’s pretty keen. Kissing the night goodbye. Ever thought about being a writer? I’d read a book with something like that in it. Talk about glorious! I can’t say I’ve ever stopped to really look at the bleeding sunset -- wait, I think that’s a pun!”  

“Training for a marathon is rough,” Gabby heaved out, face flushed. “I thought I’d run out here in the open air, you know, to prepare for the real thing and learn how to pace myself because I heard it’s better than a treadmill, but these hills may be the death of me. And my calves.”

“I do think, for myself, ma’am, that I’m quite allergic to running.” He even sniffed to further oust his point. “Although if I’m going to do it, I’d much rather do it outside. There’s something far too pungent about doing it inside, smelling the same smells. Being unable to run away from them. It makes me shudder to think of.”

“Look here, I’m hearin’ ya, but Wayne Rooney is the devil’s tit and his own ma knows that. I don’t reckon even one of those quidditch dudes turn out that vile.”

“He’s got the seventh-most scored goals in a bloody world cup. I mean, people aren’t just going to let that go, no matter how awful of a person he is. The kind of thing where you hate the sin but y’just can’t help but support what he’s doing.”

“Have you been taking lessons from a distressingly dull brother of mine? Because last I checked, that’s exactly what friends do. Can’t possibly let each other be bored, Cassiopeia. It’d be a bleeding shame.”

“The fact that you even thought that gives me the heebie-jeebies. Come on, then, hand it over. Don’t want to fall down on the job of not being bored. ‘Cause it’d absolutely be a right shame, and if there’s one walk of shame I’m doing, it’s not going to be that one. You joining?”

“It’s a Margarita or move on, buddy.”

“A margarita -- at this time of the day? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to drag me into some trouble. Friends don’t do that to friends -- on accident, that is.”