Mae Borowski (
thishouseishaunted) wrote in
fandomhighdorms2020-01-31 12:40 pm
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Third floor common room, Friday afternoon
Mae was determined never to do anything properly in Seivarden's class -- and was so far doing very well at that -- but the assignment today, to write poetry about someone they cared about, was actually something that got her thinking.
Something that got her interested.
So after class, she grabbed her journal and a blanket from her room and went to go curl up on a common room couch and try to write a real poem.
"This house is haunted,"
you said.
And you died.
You were right.
You said
"They feared death."
You were right.
I'm afraid all the time.
"They feared death,
So they ate the young."
I'm afraid all the time
of what's eating me.
So they eat the young.
And you died.
What's eating me?
. . .
"This house is haunted."
It was probably terrible. She was sure it was terrible. It didn't even rhyme.
She stared at the page for several long moments, idly doodling her grandfather's face next to her poem.
She wished it would snow.
[tiny emo post is open! Mae's poem is an extremely rough pantoum, aka baby-creative-writing-major!Bella's favorite poetic form. . . .]
Something that got her interested.
So after class, she grabbed her journal and a blanket from her room and went to go curl up on a common room couch and try to write a real poem.
"This house is haunted,"
you said.
And you died.
You were right.
You said
"They feared death."
You were right.
I'm afraid all the time.
"They feared death,
So they ate the young."
I'm afraid all the time
of what's eating me.
So they eat the young.
And you died.
What's eating me?
. . .
"This house is haunted."
It was probably terrible. She was sure it was terrible. It didn't even rhyme.
She stared at the page for several long moments, idly doodling her grandfather's face next to her poem.
She wished it would snow.
[tiny emo post is open! Mae's poem is an extremely rough pantoum, aka baby-creative-writing-major!Bella's favorite poetic form. . . .]
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"It didn't really make a lot of sense."
Just imagine how much weirder it would feel when she found out that there was still a recording from her doing radio that week, too.
"But what ever does, about this place?"
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"Right?! And yeah, it was that week. I got so upset when I dropped a breakfast plate. It was literally a piece of plastic with a breakfast sticker on it." She shuddered. "I liked the vampires better."
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That she would have jumped on in a heartbeat.
All the more reason to just ask, "What happened with the vampires?"
She would have thought that you knew it was bad if the vampires were better, but she also figured Mae would have thought vampires were better in a lot of cases.
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"I hit them with a stick."
Her toy-hands had been all soft and squishy and squeaked when she hit things. And she'd barely even managed to hold a plastic plate, much less a stick!
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Well. It caused her to let out an amused snort that was as close to a laugh as she'd had in a long time. When even was the last time? Fishing in Mexico. Moments before Claire begged her not to kill the fish.
But she killed it anyway.
So the mirth softened, just a bit, but Astrid tried to keep it there, practically clinging.
"You're pretty good at that, huh?" she said.
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"Oh yeah. I can beat the shit out of anything."
To a fault, sometimes, but Astrid didn't need to know that part.
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Because she remembered, all of a sudden, that she'd once learned how to use a sword. At least, she thought she remembered, and she just wanted to make sure, because reality seemed a particularly fragile thing right now.
"Well, the practice swords, but those are pretty much just glorified sticks."
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Mae had no idea what a "salle" was, no.
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Then she hesitated. It seemed a pretty safe bet, really, as far as gambled went, to ask Mae to go hit things with glorified sticks with her, but that also meant it would feel even worse in the event that she said no.
Then again, nothing could hurt worse than what she'd been through. Not even the volcano had been worse.
So she asked. "Want to come with me?"
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"Um, yeah," Mae said, still too excited to learn there was a whole room of practice swords to notice her hesitation. "After your lunch?"
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Mae looked at her sideways. Astrid had been extra weird since getting back, enough for Mae to notice and start to worry about. "Are you sure? Hitting things is less fun if you're hungry."
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"Oh, totally." Mae could eat pretty much any time that wasn't right after she'd just eaten too many things, so she had no real idea. "That sounds legit to me."