Absit Omen RPG

Huck was fiercely thankful that the contents of his thoughts were- for the most part- always safely tucked away in his head and in the violent, stormy parts of his chest, although he thought that it might be nice to once in a while receive some recognition for the amount of effort he was constantly exerting to keep it that way. Huck would have delighted in being Gracie's strictly-platonic friend for the rest of his otherwise dull and meaningless life, and would have taken his pining little heart quietly with him to the grave to avoid damaging their closeness. Because Huck had known immediately after meeting her: Gracie Slant was his destiny, but there was no way in hell he would have expected to be hers.

It was quite a mature realization for a boy who spent the majority of his life swaddled in cartoon-character boxers.

Sure, he wanted to jump her bones, to grab her head every time she wasted her time on someone who would never and could never worship her the way he did, to have her belong to him the way he would always belong to her-

-but he had come to the decision long ago that it wasn't in the cards, and had been at war with the unstable fire that threatened to consume his sweet little matchstick heart every day since.

Her fingers wound through his shirt- and her warm breath fluttering across his lips-

Working in tandem, they nearly destroyed the last of his steely defenses.

He grinned his boyish, toothy grin at her, the corners of his eyes wrinkled with the crow's feet he had possessed even as a small child. "You're talkin' about my luscious backside, aren't ya? You can thank me mam more than me da for that one- arse like a clothespin, that man."

Despite the easygoing smile lighting up his face, his voice was low, fragile- the voice of a scared little boy alone in a dark room.

"Lucky for you, they love you as much as--" he caught himself quickly, and only the slightest sliver of hesitation was evident before he changed course- "--you love them."

Huck's grin when he remembered Xav's little excursion off the grounds was genuine- toothy and fond- but still heavy with the memory of the pain it had caused his best friend. "Ain't the same when you've not got a mint ride to escort you around town, is it?" he joked, taking another quick swig from his canteen and choking down a dry heave. Coughing and sputtering, he was glad his face was already red when Xavier asked him about Strellie.

He thought, briefly, stretching his palm against his chest, squeezing and pulling at the letters on his Timothy Hackworth Primary School t-shirt. At first, he couldn't help but grimace. In perfect, complete honesty, he knew that Xav and Strellie had wounded each other deeply, and that it was a wound that they would both probably carry for a long, long while, even after things got better.

"You perfect nobhead," he said with a half-giggle. "Yeah, mate, of course I have. What, you think I'm afraid of her great soppy prick of a father?" He said the last part with a fair amount of bravado, but anyone paying even perfunctory attention would have noticed the way his eyes flickered darkly for a moment.

Huck sighed, running his hands through his hair. The liquor had snuck up on the boy- as it often did- and Huck was beginning to feel the hallway churning and moving. "It- look, right, ye know that girl... is... fookin' arses and elbows in love wiv' ya, right... would... would prob'ly proper kill anybody for yis..."

There was a brief pause, while Huck swallowed a small amount of his own vomit.

"...And you're sat here, like... like you don' even..."

Huck shook his brains like a bag of marbles. "Listen, mate, 'ere... Strellie ain't... she ain't ever gonna hate you. It ain't physically possible for her. Like it ain't possible for me, neither. But that..." he gestured backwards, trying to mime 'the past.' "Mate, that... why did you do that to her?"

Huck was always glad for the empty corridors. The few times the boys did come across late night troublemakers, they had mostly just made scary noises and leapt out from behind corners trying to spook them into running back to their dorms. By the nights, anymore, Huck didn't want to see a lot of people. Fourth-year Huxley Ward would have been terribly bummed out to walk lonely hallways without coming across any fellow hooligans, but sixth-year Huxley Ward now saw the inherent value in spending time with the people he actually cared about.

And boy howdy did Huck care about Xav.

He was beginning to really grasp the notion that only a very select few Hogwartians could have understood the way Huck felt. Xavier being one of them. Strellie being another. He thought briefly. Maybe Schlagenweit. Being put through something of that nature-

Some things, the mundane parts of everyday life, suddenly seemed so far away and fake. Textbooks. Due dates. Small talk. Matching socks. Meal portions. The second he tried to turn one of the concepts over in his mind it was gone, like trying to squeeze quicksilver. The only things that really stuck in his head when he went to fret over them were the faces of his friends and family, and the face of Colm Quigley, and the way his bones felt when they splintered and snapped and the way they felt when they squirmed and shifted under his skin repairing themselves. How was he supposed to take essay-writing seriously after that? (If he ever took it seriously at all, that is.)

He watched with childlike admiration as Xavier took a slug of cheap swill out of his flask. The guy could do anything with a straight face. Huck was a notorious girl-drink-drunk and straight liquor always made him squeal. "Still better'n sniffin' Dizziness Draught in the bathroom stalls," he offered cheerily, his face still a bit red.

Huck watched his best friend rubbing at his face for a moment, then looked at the ground, smiling a little. He snuck fleeting looks up, but mostly just stared at the bloodstain on his favorite sneakers the way he did when he was too klutzy to make eye contact with Gracie.

"It's definitely weird, like. Bein' back here an' that. I dunno if I ever felt this antsy before this year." Squishing a silverfish under his sneaker, he grimaced.

He really wanted to ask Xavier a million questions- none of them altogether becoming for one dude to ask another dude- but he swallowed them. And they didn't go down easily.

"I just kinda wanna keep walkin', right out the front door, and go, sometimes," he said, glancing up at Xav again, waiting for his reaction. "I can't be arsed with this-" he spread his hands out- "anymore."

YEAH OK WHATEVER

youaretheloveofmylife

Huck's bones were nearly back to normal.

After his rough summer, he had actually nearly been swayed by his father's suggestion that he take a year off from school. Muggle life had been kinder to Huck. His parents were both well aware that the boy spent all his time off from school falling asleep on strangers' floors and avoiding the police. He had courted drugs, alcohol, violence, and even crime to a petty extent, but somehow none of those things had shaken his parents' confidence more than Knockturn had.

It was almost spite that fueled him going back. As far as he was concerned, taking time off just meant putting space between himself and Strellie, which was exactly what the bastard was trying to accomplish in the first place.

Nah, it wasn't the kind of decision he'd be comfortable making.

Quite the contrary. He had shown up, bloodied and bruised, with the biggest smile he could produce and he'd wasted no time in getting right down to the brazen rule breaking. Who in God's name had made the final call in assigning him Prefect? He spent most patrol nights loitering in corners, smacking the bottom of his crumpled box of cigarettes against the butt of his palm, his eyes unfocused and uncaring. The kicked-dog feeling- the fear of being beaten senseless again- had all but left him, and was replaced with a boldness that allowed him to move like a shark in deep water.

Xavier that year had been... different. He was still the same man- and Xav was the only person in their year that Huck would have referred to as a man, when push came to shove- but something fundamental inside him had shifted. Darkened. Begun to smolder. He could see it plain as the nose on his face but at the same time couldn't put a name to it. Somehow, Huck thought that he'd known it ever since Strellie had woken him up in tears at St. Mungo's.

He pondered this while taking a swig of his flask in the darkest corridor he could find. As soon as the afterburn hit him, he grimaced like an upset cat, shaking his head and letting his tongue loll out of his mouth. "Weepin' Jesus man, 'at's some battery acid shite. Get on that." He waggled the flask in Xav's direction, still squinting, tears actually forming in his eyes.

HUCK WANTS TO GIVE STRELLIE PIGGYBACK RIDES AND PULL KNUTS OUT oF HER EARS WHEN SHE IS SAD

Huck shrugged in complete earnestness from next to Gracie. "Well, 'course I would," he replied, totally serious. "A man can make anything work if it's for love." He presented this as a basic fact, and took another spoonful of soup as though he had said something akin to "the Earth revolves around the sun" or "I smoke gillyweed in broom closets when I'm supposed to be in bed".

The silence in which they ate the rest of their meal didn't feel awkward to Huck at all. Certainly he felt a far sight more comfortable since Eamon had granted him one tiny victory. There were several moments when Huck would catch the older man's eyes for a split second, but both would scramble to drop eye contact before any sort of emotions could be exchanged.

Still, the transition away from the table (he'd insisted on at least clearing his own plate before Heppie had chased him out with yet another laser-targeted swat to his bottom) was welcome, and he found their new settings infinitely preferable. With their arms comfortably pressed together, the boy could feel goosebumps forming with the cool breeze but couldn't quite make out whether they were Gracie's or his own.

He had never been more comfortable or more terrified.

Forgetting where he was and what he was doing, he behaved as he usually did with a cold beer in his hand- he popped the top off with his belt buckle and chugged it. He had long since mastered the correct influx of air through the nose to make it easy to chug the entire bottle without coming up for a breath, and at that point he didn't even have to think about it.

When the last drops of the brew clung to the neck of the bottle he licked them free out of habit and then tossed the empty bottle behind himself, belching. The force of his burp made him grimace- ow- and he hit his chest several times with his fist to knock the aftershock burp loose. 

"Narrh," he said finally. "She ain't crazy... not in a bad way, anyways."

He turned the bottle cap over and over in his fingers, watching it reflect the warm melon colors of the setting sun. "She sure seems to love the bejeezus outta you," he mentioned, waiting a moment before adding, with a little nudge, "for whatever reason."

He thought for a moment about Gracie's family, and then thought about his own. They were essentially polar opposites- Gracie's family, for all their insanity, was always full of a strange, unseen class. Poise. Upbringing. Even the house itself reflected them.

The thought of his own family made him grin. There was always crayon on the walls, and nine times out of ten, he was the one responsible. His mam had, on more than one occasion, had to step over the passed-out strung-out hung-over bodies of himself, Veronica, and all of their townie friends to stumble into the kitchen and fix herself breakfast. But the childishness of it all- it seemed more sane to him. So he had to agree.

"They're a part of you, Grace," he said, shaking his head. "I couldn't very well feel the way I do about you if I were hatin' them on the side. I love 'em." After a beat, he giggled. "Well... I like 'em."

sly- U WILL GET URS

damien- i am SO ON BOARD for this happening omg. huck needs some party bros.

chloe- HUCK LOVES ARTSY LADIES he would be so excited to be her friend!

zira- I DONT EVEN CARE ILL CAUSE TROUBLE SO LANDIS CAN YELL AT HIM I DONT EVEN CARE AAAHHH let's do a thousand threads

amberlee- can we seriously for real do a thread of xav and huck like... right now?? i want them to be saddies and yell at each other

will- YES on huck and ligeia being prefects, even though i think it'd be mostly huck staring sideways at her because he is kind of a little afraid of her. and also HUGE YES to ronnie and casey because i love love love their dynamic <3 PM ME

Huck's face flushed uncomfortably hot and he could feel his ears tingling as he fought to keep his smile back. "Narrh," he objected, his voice oozing with giddiness. Art was something Huck only shared with a few people; he limited it to the people that he truly cared about. Gracie had seen every stupid doodle and every painstaking finished piece he had concocted. Even if she was flattering him only to piss off Eamon-

-well, he just couldn't keep the sunshine from coming through his pores.

And then, when the man conceded to Huck's point, his face broke into a surprised stare. "I- yeah?" he asked hopefully, his dull blue eyes glittering. "Well- oh, that's-" his face fell when the point came around that Eamon thought he ought to be an Auror. "Christ," he said softly, slugging back the remainder of his water as though it were a stiff drink. "N-n- ....well, I'd hate to, ah-"

His eyes shifted across the table to where Gracie sat, and his gaze searched her face. "I'd hate to make a... a mockery of such a respectable... ...respectable..."

SO

I wanna get back into doing things especially with Hucky and Ronnie. SO I WANTED TO WHIP UP THIS HANDY INFO THING HERE because probably nobody knows who the hell they are anyway.

HUXLEY SCOUT WARD is a 6th year Slytherin. He's a prefect, but dear God he should not be one. Huck means well, but he is a lout, a pervert, a dunce, and a troublemaker. People are probably annoyed by him all the time because he messes things up and has trouble taking things seriously, but he genuinely wants everybody to like him. Also, he is pretty vain and shallow.. mostly about himself. He is loyal in the way that a big dumb golden retriever is loyal, and in his eyes his friends and family can do no wrong. Likely to throw elbows if you insult them (or touch his sisters).
What I would want for Huck would be friends, enemies, and teachers.. I don't need a love interest for him (though if you wanna have an unrequited crush on him he'd be ALL ABOUT THAT.) because he is madly madly in love with a certain someone. (He thinks it's a secret but it's totally not.)

VERONICA DANIELLE WARD is a 4th year Slytherin, and Huck's little sister. Ronnie is crafty and sly in all the ways that Huck is bumbling and earnest. She is the kind of girl who sizes everyone up when she looks at them- even her closest friends. She has a bit of a reputation as a strumpet, which she would vocally deny while at the same making extremely suggestive eye contact.
What I need for Ronnie is probably mostly boys to have flings with, teachers, and also girls to butt heads with.


ILU GUYS

If evolution were real, Huck thought miserably, I'd have evolved a protective shell over my nads.

Huck had been kneed, kicked, hexed, and hell, even punched in the nether regions before. But that time had been the worst yet by far. Even during his encounter in the alleyway his precious bits had been saved such a bruising.

Oh, and bruising there was. Bruising. On his plums.

Oddly, in general, Huck would have blamed the discomfort on the person whose foot had done the crime, but Cassie was about the sweetest li'l thing in the entire world and he would deny the ache for days before he would let a girl know that he had hurt him. (Well, except for his very close friends. He would have never let them hear the end of it.)

It was that thought which was, oddly enough, running through his brain when a pair of little elbows smashed directly into his nipples.

"For fu-- oh!" he recovered, folding his arms tightly across his chest to try and distract himself from the pain. Smirking broadly, he leaned forward. "Oh, I don't believe that for a second," he joked. "You've had it in for me since day one. I've had to look over me shoulder all the time- always expectin' to see ye stalkin' behind me swingin' a sock full 'o sickles."

Huck was- needless to say- very surprised. The intricacies of the blood concentrations became fuzzy as soon as she started elaborating but the point was not lost on him. Being a guardian of such information had always made Huck feel both powerful and extremely nervous. He felt as though he were holding a very deadly weapon- he liked having it because he knew he would never use it the wrong way, but Huxley Ward had always been painfully aware of the fact that he was a bit of a knucklehead. And such people should, in truth, never be trusted with things of great gravity.

Another part of him felt sheepish because he had never understood the whole importance of being pureblood. To tell her that he understood and that it would be okay no matter what would be a lie. He knew what some members of the Aristocracy could be like, though he also knew they had as many metaphorical holes in their stockings as anybody else. "Hey, shut up," he said finally, his voice more clear and firm than it had been in his addled state. "I wouldn't let somebody else talk about you like that, and I'm sure as shit not gonna let you do it to yourself."

"I know I'm not... I mean, I know I can't ever really get it and I know Xav is... he's..." Huck fumbled in his mind, his eyes focused to a spot across the room. "I know sometimes he can get wrapped up in that kinda stuff..."

"But do you really think this changes anything? You've been who you were since day-bleedin'-one and you've shone brighter than anybody here- and- and- and you did it with 'dirty blood.' I mean, Chrissakes, Demitria," he sputtered, trying to find his mental footing again. He was acutely aware of the fact that he sounded angrier than he was, but he wasn't sure he would be able to explain himself rationally. The fact that he had used her full name for the first time in- well.... he wasn't even sure, but it had certainly been a long while- escaped him. "If I knew that he would chuck you based on that... I'd... I mean... I'd have to give some serious thought to... I dunno... ripping out his still-beating heart and showing it to him!"

"So modest," Huck teased lightly, smiling into his soup bowl. He was fairly certain Gracie could have been a secret agent or something in another life. And not just because he found it easy to imagine her in a tight black outfit. "If that's true, maybe I should hire myself a different bodyguard."

When she brought up his artistic ability, he froze mid-slurp. His eyes darted to Eamon, and then back to Gracie. He wasn't sure what kind of reaction that would elicit from the man... but he had a hunch he wouldn't be impressed by it.
"Oh, ah, well..." he fumbled, lowering his spoon back to the bowl. "Y'know, not much, like. I guess... it's... just a hobby, and that."

The tips of his ears were red. "I mean, I sure don't plan on makin' a livin' off it or nothin'. I'd much rather get a decent trade."

What? He was babbling incoherently then. Why had he felt the need to mention that? A decent trade? What??

"...To provide for a family, an' all."

Huck realized where he was and what was going on once the professors started getting involved. Ah, sugar. When the booming shout rang out over the brawl, he had frozen like a panicked deer atop the Hufflepuff table, one knee plunged into a cake and his hand clenched on the face of a seventh year who had been doing his damnedest to rearrange Huck's facial features.

As soon as the chaos outside him stopped, the chaos in his pants started back up again. He shoved the kid away- trying to get his last dig in- and laid down on his back on the table briefly, taking deep breaths to try and ride out the sickening ache.

Rolling over, he managed to squash several dinners before finally reaching the edge of the table and letting his feet touch the floor. What a shit show. Huxley Ward was certainly not the fang on the basilisk, but he generally didn't see himself as being quite this stupid. A special kind of stupid. Hard stupid.

Obediently, he held onto his family jewels and began limping from the hall in the damaged herd heading to the hospital hut.

When he felt Gracie beside him, he managed a subdued but somewhat genuinely amused smirk. "Come to check on the damage to your property?" he asked, his eyes twinkling. "No worries, love, I expect he'll be in working order before the night's up. Not his first rodeo, if you catch my drift."

Huck clicked his tongue gently. The surprise of seeing Strellie in the place was wearing off a little, and was being replaced by the reality of it all. People didn't run into each other in St. Mungos because of silly coincidences. They had both come fairly close to death, as far as Huck could piece together. His hand became a little steadier with that knowledge, and he gripped her shoulder more firmly. "C'mon, darlin', c'mon now," he cooed to her.

She was so wound up. Huck felt badly- he wanted his brain to keep up, but it was just not doing a good enough job. "Sweet'eart, ev'rything's peaches and cream," he insisted. "C'mon. Xav's a thorny ol' bastard, I highly doubt one mangy mutt would be enough to take him down, right?" he grinned a little, giving her an extra tight squeeze. "Yeah, not to worry, dearheart." He paused while she continued to rant, gearing up to speak several times and each time deciding against it.

One phrase stood out-

"-I know he can never be with me because I'm not a pureblood, I'm hardly even human, and it was fine when we were just friends, but he's a pureblood and can't be with me even though no one knows and-"

Once again, Huck's brain was chugging along as fast as it could go, which was even slower than usual. Wait a minute...

He knit his brows. "Hardly even human? C'mon, don't be a goof," he smiled lopsidedly, giving her a little playful shake. "I'm lookin' right at you. ...Or I would be, if I could crane me damn neck. Can see you in my head perfect, though, ya little matryoshka doll. Nothin' not-human doin', there."