seb-speaks

[seb-speaks]

Sebastian, have you ever flown a tree trunk? If not or you are ever curious, I can show you how we do it in Koldovstoretz!

— Lilith

"This can't possibly mean what I'm envisioning. A tree trunk? I'm intrigued."

[seb-speaks]

Do you have a favorite constellation?

Mines Orion.

/Astronomy enthusiast

"I enjoy a stargazing session if it comes with good company. If I had to pick one, it would be Caelum, faint as it might be."

[seb-speaks]

Sebastian,

I feel I must ask, as I have always been curious.

Where did you and Anne find yourselves as young children while your parents worked?

Was there some kindly person in your hamlet who looked after you during the hours they taught?

Were the both of you curtailed to another classroom, perhaps under the watchful eye of another professor?

Or would we have seen young Sallow children scampering about the halls of Hogwarts?

"It depended on the year. Most of what I remember included terrorizing a family friend in Hogsfield. There were scant times when we were older that we accompanied them to Hogwarts itself, and in those times, we were generally told to stay within the vicinity of the library. Anne has always delighted in mischief, and I've never taken heart in staying behind.

Suffice it to say, a sharp eye might have found us sneaking through the halls at an early age."

[seb-speaks]

What's your sign?

"Our birthday is the twenty-eighth of September. Do with that what you will."

[seb-speaks]

Sebastian, hi!

I know that your parents are not around anymore but do you have a happy memory of them that stands out to you among the rest, even after all this time?

— 🌸

"I would consider it more bittersweet than happy. Being twins, Anne and I were never alone. The usual childhood fears—the dark, under-bed dwelling Boggarts, and the like—never bothered us. The only thing we were afraid of was being left out of things. Fun things.

In short, our parents had planned a one-day outing for themselves. In retrospect, it was much deserved. We were so crushed about being excluded that they brought us along instead. Coincidently, it's one of the earliest memories I have of the Muggle world.

Mum bought us chocolates from a shop. Da carried Anne around on his shoulders. It was nothing extraordinary then. It still isn't, but I think about it the most."

[seb-speaks]

The floundering doesn’t end nearly as gracefully as he wishes. The words never find him, but his teeth find his cheeks as it stops. The only thing that leaves him is a frustrated sigh.

Quitting while ahead was never a lesson he learned. It read far too near to losing.

Sebastian watches when she steps closer—she practically bounces, no doubt reveling in her victory. Her cheek presses against his, and he squeezes his teeth together. Her skin is warm, and his is burning, so if one is worse, it escapes him.

Which is ridiculous; nothing escapes him.

When she speaks, he glances at the side of her head.

A boon.

He doesn't need to know the official meaning behind lavender to get the right idea. Favourable, beneficial.

Adeline settles back to her usual height and takes her loose, heat-seeking strands of hair with her. He is perplexed. For good reason, too. She never looked for excuses to be close to him. It is not like he never misreads situations, though before this moment he would say it was rare.

It’s mostly deliberation that clouds his expression while she folds the blazer.

“Detention?” He repeats, finally, eyes on the green fabric. He doesn’t really need it returned. Instead of reaching for the outstretched item, he adjusts the book in his grasp. It’s not as easy to slip back into his arrogance while nursing defeat, but he manages.

“Keep it. You went through the trouble of stealing it, after all. Just try not to leave teeth impressions in my clothes as well.”

He is certain she doesn’t have a second victory in her, but he doesn’t wait around to find out. He has flowers to read up on, after all.

The owl drops a book, neatly wrapped in brown paper. Inside, Sebastian’s copy of "Herbology Maxima", is slightly worse for wear... marks, suspiciously close to bite-marks, have indented the leather around the spine.

Tucked in the pages is a note and a sprig of fresh Lavender. It holds Adelines scrawny script.

"Dear Sebastian,

Thank you kindly for letting me borrow your book. It had some in-depth descriptions of the mushrooms found in the local area, which I sorely needed. I am sorry to say that a chomping cabbage got too close to it as I was reading it by my pots- I tried to repair it but it seems their saliva might've resisted the magic a bit(?).

About the bookmark, I realised too late you had it dipped in silver. My nifflers just had a new litter and the bairns,.. Well. I'll get it back to you, shortly. Until then, this sprig of Lavender should suffice - I'm sure Anne will tell you what it means.

Love, Adeline"

Sebastian stares, eyes narrowed at the suspiciously book-shaped parcel.

He hesitates to even touch it. Surely it isn’t… it had not been more than a week since the witch borrowed his Herbology Maxima text, and he knew she had more care than transporting a book via owl, of all the methods.

It’s around the third increasingly loud chip of the owl waiting overhead that he finally retrieves it with mumbled irritation. The beat of retreating wings covers the sound of paper ripping, but he still winces.

The wear is obvious.

Sebastian exhales severely when he rubs his finger over the chomped spine in a futile attempt to mold the leather together again. He’s never known Tinley to be a biter, or—worse—dreadfully careless.

The letter doesn’t present itself until he checks the pages for tears. He’s borderline too cross to read it when it finds his fingers.

Chomping cabbages.

He should have expected so from someone with her interests, but with his book?

And his bookmark? Sebastian sighs.

“Really, Tinley?” He mutters to the letter as his eyes fall on the sprig and it’s slightly purple outline left on the page. It is at least more fetching than the rest of the damage.

He doesn’t remove it when he closes the book.

The love of flowers had always escaped him, as did their breadth of meaning. He hoped lavender meant the biggest of apologies. Somewhat vaguely, he recalled it had something to do with virtues and if he was being insulted then he wouldn’t ask his twin to translate. At best, Anne would laugh, and at worst, she would never let him forget it.

He’d look it up himself.

[seb-speaks]

If you hadn't been sorted into Slytherin - where do you believe you would've ended up? The same house as your uncle, or somewhere else entirely??

"If you insisted on draining all the ambition and cunning out of me, what's left would still have its nose in a book. Albeit frighteningly less charming, and still unlikely to hold bravery--or its near cousin--on a high pedestal."

[seb-speaks]

It isn’t very sporting to hold it over her head—not for someone as honest as she. Sporting or not, it’s hard not to be smug when a target is hit so easily.

He watches the carnelian spread across her face. The mark of an assured victory.

It only impresses him when the book lands in her hand. He wouldn’t call it surprise that forces the posture change—he’d most assuredly deserves being whacked with a text or two.

Despite how he braced for it, the assault doesn’t come.

Instead, something much worse follows. Something much more convoluted than simply smacking him with a fairly light book a few times.

Adeline stares at the purple as if the flower were dipped in secrets and snuck there, and not like she’d placed it there hours before.

So, Sebastian does what he does best.

He overthinks it.

Was it not a flower to keep? Did it actually mean something unsavory? Was she mocking him? Was keeping it mocking himself? He should have just asked Anne and suffered through the jokes.

He’s in the middle of looking for clues in her shocked expression when it abruptly twists into a smirk. There’s the faintest, possibly imagined echo of every table in the library turning on him.

Love letter? She’d given it to him, not the other way around.

He opens his mouth to shoot back his usual brand of smartassery, but finds himself only grasping at untethered strings. Nothing to toss back at her even when she shoves the book into his chest.

Perhaps he’s the fool. He definitely looks like one, standing there while his mouth moves around the ghosts of words he can’t find.

The owl drops a book, neatly wrapped in brown paper. Inside, Sebastian’s copy of "Herbology Maxima", is slightly worse for wear... marks, suspiciously close to bite-marks, have indented the leather around the spine.

Tucked in the pages is a note and a sprig of fresh Lavender. It holds Adelines scrawny script.

"Dear Sebastian,

Thank you kindly for letting me borrow your book. It had some in-depth descriptions of the mushrooms found in the local area, which I sorely needed. I am sorry to say that a chomping cabbage got too close to it as I was reading it by my pots- I tried to repair it but it seems their saliva might've resisted the magic a bit(?).

About the bookmark, I realised too late you had it dipped in silver. My nifflers just had a new litter and the bairns,.. Well. I'll get it back to you, shortly. Until then, this sprig of Lavender should suffice - I'm sure Anne will tell you what it means.

Love, Adeline"

Sebastian stares, eyes narrowed at the suspiciously book-shaped parcel.

He hesitates to even touch it. Surely it isn’t… it had not been more than a week since the witch borrowed his Herbology Maxima text, and he knew she had more care than transporting a book via owl, of all the methods.

It’s around the third increasingly loud chip of the owl waiting overhead that he finally retrieves it with mumbled irritation. The beat of retreating wings covers the sound of paper ripping, but he still winces.

The wear is obvious.

Sebastian exhales severely when he rubs his finger over the chomped spine in a futile attempt to mold the leather together again. He’s never known Tinley to be a biter, or—worse—dreadfully careless.

The letter doesn’t present itself until he checks the pages for tears. He’s borderline too cross to read it when it finds his fingers.

Chomping cabbages.

He should have expected so from someone with her interests, but with his book?

And his bookmark? Sebastian sighs.

“Really, Tinley?” He mutters to the letter as his eyes fall on the sprig and it’s slightly purple outline left on the page. It is at least more fetching than the rest of the damage.

He doesn’t remove it when he closes the book.

The love of flowers had always escaped him, as did their breadth of meaning. He hoped lavender meant the biggest of apologies. Somewhat vaguely, he recalled it had something to do with virtues and if he was being insulted then he wouldn’t ask his twin to translate. At best, Anne would laugh, and at worst, she would never let him forget it.

He’d look it up himself.

[seb-speaks]

Sebastian! I just found out that Slytherin is playing against Gryffindor next week, first match of the year! Remind me, do you play Quidditch? There is always so much happening on the field that I have a hard time keeping track of who does what, not to mention teams changing a little every year.

— C.

"Only if forced, and yes, before you ask, it has happened. Imelda has a way of bending me to her will. It's good fun. Just never been all that fond of working up a sweat for little gain."

[seb-speaks]

Hello Sebastian,

Do you have a favorite quote?

"Doesn't everyone? I shall leave you with my most favourite of the year:"

“I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched.”

- Edgar Allan Poe, 1849

[seb-speaks]

The silver is warm in his fingers. He fidgets with the metal despite the calm exterior he’s opted for. There’s definite correlation in how her averted gaze pushes his brows higher.

Couldn’t replicate his notes? He snorts, though the moment has already passed.

He wonders if his jacket has fallen victim to the same treatment as his book. He wouldn’t care nearly as much. But, like most things, the absence of questioning is often felt significantly more than the impact the question itself could have commanded.

So, he only tilts his head while she explains everything and nothing.

When she abruptly ceases and turns her attention to the floor, Sebastian can’t help being amused.

“Careful, Tinley, that was almost a challenge,” he says through a lazy grin, pushing the surprise down. Maybe she’s been around him too much; flattery is far more his well-trodden route than hers.

He’s not sure she means it. He’s not sure he would mean it.

Still, he will not call her compliments a charade any faster than he will call himself a charlatan.

“Do you have your quill?” Sebastian asks with feigned curiosity. He crosses his arms. “Because I would have that written for the next time you argue absurd hypotheticals with me. My acceptance of your apology may be hinging on your willingness to do so.”

He shrugs before he continues. “Nothing knavish. I’m thinking along the lines of ‘Sebastian Sallow takes the best notes and would absolutely have the highest Herbology NEWTS score.’”

The owl drops a book, neatly wrapped in brown paper. Inside, Sebastian’s copy of "Herbology Maxima", is slightly worse for wear... marks, suspiciously close to bite-marks, have indented the leather around the spine.

Tucked in the pages is a note and a sprig of fresh Lavender. It holds Adelines scrawny script.

"Dear Sebastian,

Thank you kindly for letting me borrow your book. It had some in-depth descriptions of the mushrooms found in the local area, which I sorely needed. I am sorry to say that a chomping cabbage got too close to it as I was reading it by my pots- I tried to repair it but it seems their saliva might've resisted the magic a bit(?).

About the bookmark, I realised too late you had it dipped in silver. My nifflers just had a new litter and the bairns,.. Well. I'll get it back to you, shortly. Until then, this sprig of Lavender should suffice - I'm sure Anne will tell you what it means.

Love, Adeline"

Sebastian stares, eyes narrowed at the suspiciously book-shaped parcel.

He hesitates to even touch it. Surely it isn’t… it had not been more than a week since the witch borrowed his Herbology Maxima text, and he knew she had more care than transporting a book via owl, of all the methods.

It’s around the third increasingly loud chip of the owl waiting overhead that he finally retrieves it with mumbled irritation. The beat of retreating wings covers the sound of paper ripping, but he still winces.

The wear is obvious.

Sebastian exhales severely when he rubs his finger over the chomped spine in a futile attempt to mold the leather together again. He’s never known Tinley to be a biter, or—worse—dreadfully careless.

The letter doesn’t present itself until he checks the pages for tears. He’s borderline too cross to read it when it finds his fingers.

Chomping cabbages.

He should have expected so from someone with her interests, but with his book?

And his bookmark? Sebastian sighs.

“Really, Tinley?” He mutters to the letter as his eyes fall on the sprig and it’s slightly purple outline left on the page. It is at least more fetching than the rest of the damage.

He doesn’t remove it when he closes the book.

The love of flowers had always escaped him, as did their breadth of meaning. He hoped lavender meant the biggest of apologies. Somewhat vaguely, he recalled it had something to do with virtues and if he was being insulted then he wouldn’t ask his twin to translate. At best, Anne would laugh, and at worst, she would never let him forget it.

He’d look it up himself.

[seb-speaks]

Dear Sebastian,

Do you remember at what age did your magical abilities first show themselves and how did they manifest? I can only assume that Anne exhibited hers at around the same time.

“I can’t speak for Anne, but my own didn’t show until shortly after our tenth birthday. There were some times prior I thought it might have—it was never easy to differentiate between Anne’s rogue magic and my own—but that was the foremost time I was entirely sure of it. The details are irrelevant. I had lost something important, and it presented itself. Admittedly, that's a bit late by wizarding standards. I prefer to think of that as the first time regardless.”

[seb-speaks]

There are three things to do. 

The least pressing matter is, for the moment, the easiest to manage: research. If lavender has any negative meaning, then Sebastian prefers to know that prior to dealing with the more pressing matters at hand. If she actually thinks a note is a sufficient explanation for why she allowed his belongings to fall victim to herbology menaces, she’s wrong, and he intends to make sure she knows it.

He did not even so much as detour to stash his book away before he headed to the library. Scriber can think whatever she wishes; it’s hardly a covetable text anymore with the indentions littered across its spine and dented corners. 

The library is busier than usual. Weekends usually see fewer students in their small pockets of free time, but it seems today was not spared the same luxury. The book tucked under his arm is heavy, though it’s no comparison to the significantly thicker volumes on the shelf he found himself in front of. 

Herbs for Health and Healing, Flesh-Eating Trees of the World, A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Weeds… Sebastian pauses. He’s already read it—there are no answers hidden in its pages—and seeing the word shouldn’t shoot a pang of guilt through him, but it does. 

Discomfort forces his eyes sideways, and they settle on green.

It’s never a surprise to find a Ravenclaw stooped over a book and lost in thought. Perhaps if she’d been in her own colors she would have avoided detection. He knows it’s Adeline, even with the distance between the shelf and the table she sat at, just from how characteristically she’d taken to dismantling her hairstyle strand by strand. He can almost guarantee the most recently tugged away strand is wrapped around her finger while she reads whatever she must have deemed more safeguardworthy than the book tucked under his arm.

So, he pulls it out and drops it onto the table before her. “Mind telling me what was worth slaughtering my book over? Don’t say mushrooms—that’s insulting. This is a crime, Tinley.”

He doesn’t comment on how the jacket she’s wrapped in is suspiciously similar to his missing one. If his eyes linger on it, it’s only because he knows the broken stitch at the elbow he neglected to ever fix. 

A book butcher and a kleptomaniac.

The owl drops a book, neatly wrapped in brown paper. Inside, Sebastian’s copy of "Herbology Maxima", is slightly worse for wear... marks, suspiciously close to bite-marks, have indented the leather around the spine.

Tucked in the pages is a note and a sprig of fresh Lavender. It holds Adelines scrawny script.

"Dear Sebastian,

Thank you kindly for letting me borrow your book. It had some in-depth descriptions of the mushrooms found in the local area, which I sorely needed. I am sorry to say that a chomping cabbage got too close to it as I was reading it by my pots- I tried to repair it but it seems their saliva might've resisted the magic a bit(?).

About the bookmark, I realised too late you had it dipped in silver. My nifflers just had a new litter and the bairns,.. Well. I'll get it back to you, shortly. Until then, this sprig of Lavender should suffice - I'm sure Anne will tell you what it means.

Love, Adeline"

Sebastian stares, eyes narrowed at the suspiciously book-shaped parcel.

He hesitates to even touch it. Surely it isn’t… it had not been more than a week since the witch borrowed his Herbology Maxima text, and he knew she had more care than transporting a book via owl, of all the methods.

It’s around the third increasingly loud chip of the owl waiting overhead that he finally retrieves it with mumbled irritation. The beat of retreating wings covers the sound of paper ripping, but he still winces.

The wear is obvious.

Sebastian exhales severely when he rubs his finger over the chomped spine in a futile attempt to mold the leather together again. He’s never known Tinley to be a biter, or—worse—dreadfully careless.

The letter doesn’t present itself until he checks the pages for tears. He’s borderline too cross to read it when it finds his fingers.

Chomping cabbages.

He should have expected so from someone with her interests, but with his book?

And his bookmark? Sebastian sighs.

“Really, Tinley?” He mutters to the letter as his eyes fall on the sprig and it’s slightly purple outline left on the page. It is at least more fetching than the rest of the damage.

He doesn’t remove it when he closes the book.

The love of flowers had always escaped him, as did their breadth of meaning. He hoped lavender meant the biggest of apologies. Somewhat vaguely, he recalled it had something to do with virtues and if he was being insulted then he wouldn’t ask his twin to translate. At best, Anne would laugh, and at worst, she would never let him forget it.

He’d look it up himself.

[seb-speaks]

poet, philosopher, and failure.

[seb-speaks]

The owl drops a book, neatly wrapped in brown paper. Inside, Sebastian’s copy of "Herbology Maxima", is slightly worse for wear... marks, suspiciously close to bite-marks, have indented the leather around the spine.

Tucked in the pages is a note and a sprig of fresh Lavender. It holds Adelines scrawny script.

"Dear Sebastian,

Thank you kindly for letting me borrow your book. It had some in-depth descriptions of the mushrooms found in the local area, which I sorely needed. I am sorry to say that a chomping cabbage got too close to it as I was reading it by my pots- I tried to repair it but it seems their saliva might've resisted the magic a bit(?).

About the bookmark, I realised too late you had it dipped in silver. My nifflers just had a new litter and the bairns,.. Well. I'll get it back to you, shortly. Until then, this sprig of Lavender should suffice - I'm sure Anne will tell you what it means.

Love, Adeline"

Sebastian stares, eyes narrowed at the suspiciously book-shaped parcel.

He hesitates to even touch it. Surely it isn’t… it had not been more than a week since the witch borrowed his Herbology Maxima text, and he knew she had more care than transporting a book via owl, of all the methods.

It’s around the third increasingly loud chip of the owl waiting overhead that he finally retrieves it with mumbled irritation. The beat of retreating wings covers the sound of paper ripping, but he still winces.

The wear is obvious.

Sebastian exhales severely when he rubs his finger over the chomped spine in a futile attempt to mold the leather together again. He’s never known Tinley to be a biter, or—worse—dreadfully careless.

The letter doesn’t present itself until he checks the pages for tears. He’s borderline too cross to read it when it finds his fingers.

Chomping cabbages.

He should have expected so from someone with her interests, but with his book?

And his bookmark? Sebastian sighs.

“Really, Tinley?” He mutters to the letter as his eyes fall on the sprig and it’s slightly purple outline left on the page. It is at least more fetching than the rest of the damage.

He doesn’t remove it when he closes the book.

The love of flowers had always escaped him, as did their breadth of meaning. He hoped lavender meant the biggest of apologies. Somewhat vaguely, he recalled it had something to do with virtues and if he was being insulted then he wouldn’t ask his twin to translate. At best, Anne would laugh, and at worst, she would never let him forget it.

He’d look it up himself.

[seb-speaks]

Rules of Conduct Subject to change. 1. This is an 18+ only blog, not only for content but also simply for my own comfort. I am an adult; I may not think twice about what would be appropriate to post, and therefore, I would prefer not to worry about it. Minors, shoo.

2. On NSFW... I would not walk up to a stranger and request sexual conversation, so I would hope you'll spare me the same mercy. Not RP'd NSFW questions are permitted. 3. Please be respectful. An actual person is writing this, which is understandably easy to forget in the age of character.ai. Be kind.

4. Shipping. I have personal ships, and I'm sure you do as well. If we do not agree, it's nothing personal :) You're welcome to DM.