don't think like that *

She needed a break. A few moments away from the chaos of Parliament...away from the apartment that she shared with Marco. Away from the constant glares that she felt were being thrown at her back when she got ready to go to work everyday.

Sighing softly, the blonde ran her fingers through her hair and gave her locks a bit of a shake. She had momentarily thought about going to see Luben at his place, just for some company. But ultimately she had decided against it. He dealt with her enough as it was, and with the full moon approaching he was sure to see enough of her. It was just another thing that Marco was going to be angry about. She would have to deal with that when she returned home.

It was still early enough in the evening that the sun lingered around the tops of the mountains, not yet prepared to set over Rosewood Village. It cast a bit of a shadow with the trees, but nothing that would yet make her feel as if she were wandering blindly in the dark. Which is why she came to the memorial. As a student it had been one of the few places where she felt that she could think without interruption. It wasn’t often that she was able to get down there, due to classes and the restrictions placed upon her...but when she did? It was where she spent most of her time. At least until Luben had come into her life.

There had been quite a few books written about Eve Palmer, each one detailing the moments in her life that had lead her to create Hollow Creek, a safe haven for those with magical abilities to come and learn their craft. She had been a source of inspiration for a young girl who had had nothing else to hold onto as a child.

After all, that was why Hollow Creek had been brought into existence. To help people. And that was what Mickey wanted to do with her life...help people. Perhaps then she would feel as if she had some kind of purpose. And right now she felt as if she was sadly lacking in that department because nothing felt...right. Nothing felt like it was what she needed. The only time that things felt even remotely okay was when-...

Mickey quickly gave her head a bit of a shake, pressing a hand against her cheek. She couldn't think like that. There would be far too many problems added to her plate if she let herself get carried away with those thoughts.

WORD COUNT: 439
TAGGED: OPEN

Mikayla Prescott, 515. 

At the start of every school year Louis Fitzpatrick attempted to stay on the grounds of Hollow Creek Institute for as long as he could stand. The students’ chattering incessantly in his classroom about Merlin-Knew-What, their obnoxious giggles and laughter at topics that were simply thoroughly unfunny, the backtalk he received for enforcing the rules, and the howlers from parents pissed over their children’s well-deserved poor grades were all small things that picked away at his already low tolerance of bullshit. He endured the frustration as best he could, but by the end of his first week back on the job Lou had enough of the little assholes and he needed to a get away from the Institute.

And uproot some herbs from Eve’s Memorial.

As far as Louis had researched it was not illegal to desecrate Eve’s Memorial by unearthing a few of the Western roseroot that grew on the arid south side of the cemetery, just frowned upon. And it was for that reason Lou had only made his way out to the village in the early evening with a trowel, towel, and pair of cloth bags to avoid the judgemental eyes. Really, it was the Parliament’s fault for choosing to plant such valuable herbs with beautiful rhizomes in a public memorial and not anticipate a few jerks would tear them up for Potions making, and insisting on planting them again every time Lou dug them up.

Panting lightly at the effort of his brisk and lengthy journey from the school, Lou carefully unlatched the metal gate from the entrance to the memorial site and cemetery and gave it a quick shove. Like nails on a chalkboard, the metal hinges moaned and creaked disrupting the serenity of the vicinity, and again when he forcefully fastened the gate again. Dull green eyes glanced about the cemetery for its other occupants. An elderly lady visiting the grave of her late husband, and a young blonde woman he recognized but couldn’t quite put his finger on. She looked young. Young enough to have possibly been one of his former students, but clearly lacking the competence in his class to warrant a spot in his memory.

Lou gave a slight groan aloud. By chance, the blonde was within a metre of his costly herbs, and by the value of those shoes would likely not appreciate them being coated with dirt.

His lips pressed into a firm unkind line and he moved towards the young woman. ”Excuse me.” He muttered assertively and vaguely in her direction when he was within a few steps. Without waiting for her response, he threw out his towel in the air and gingerly lowered it to ground in front of his herbs. Louis carefully lowered himself to the ground, wincing at the tightness in his hips and thighs, before sitting on his heels and glaring over at the blonde. ”I’m sorry, do you mind moving a few feet? I’m trying to get this done before I lose the sun.” He said, his tone absent the inflection of a true apology.

There wasn’t much time before she ought to be heading back. Her shift was due to begin in a few hours, and it was far easier to use the Floo Network than it was to try and Apparate back to Edmonton for work. Maybe she would be able to distract herself for those few hours until she had to return back to the apartment to sleep. If she was lucky, Marco wouldn’t be home yet. He would still be out with the guys and he would leave her be when he returned if he saw that she was asleep. Or pretending to be.

”Excuse me.”

Mickey turned her head, just in time to see a rather familiar face step into view. He seemed rather uninterested in actually speaking to her, His eye contact was brief, if it existed at all, and he was down on the ground to begin picking at the herbs before he had even finished speaking. Mickey could only blink at him. ”Professor Fitzpatrick?”

She remembered the man from her days as a student, which were not yet too far behind her to be blurry yet. He had been in charge of her Potions class, and she had always found him to be a rather miserable sort of man. Almost like he didn’t find joy in anything at all, and unless you were one of the students who excelled in his class, you were rather unremarkable. And though Mickey had done well enough to pass her class without being on the lower end of the grade pool, she certainly hadn’t been one of those gifted students who thrived in the class. It was rather likely that the man didn’t even truly remember her.

Stepping to the side to avoid accidentally trodding on the professor’s hand, Mickey looked down at the man and carefully moved a ringlet of hair away from her eyes. It had been nearly two years since she had graduated from Hollow Creek, but even in the fading sunlight she could see that Professor FItzpatrick hadn’t changed much. He still wore a rather stoic look upon his face, making her wonder if the man even knew how to laugh at all. A smile might crack his face and leave him looking incredibly frightful.

”Sir...is that allowed?” Mickey asked, looking about her to ensure that there was no one else around them who might raise a fuss. ”I mean...this isn’t general maintenance to make the memorial look nice...and people tend to frown upon the idea of gathering herbs here, don’t they?”


WORD COUNT: 437
TAGGED: Louis Fitzpatrick