PLAY THE GAME ,

[junipertwo]

who is the betrayer? who's the killer in the crowd? one who creeps in corridors & doesn't make a sound

this post is dedicated to vika and her fluffyjac love-stalking, but is open for anyone c:

it was quite the charming sunny day for wintertime and, discontent to remain indoors, a small blonde tyrant had demanded an outing to honeydukes to purchase a few pounds' worth of cavities. unable to refuse the request, unable to say no to bobbing platinum pigtails and big steel grey eyes, jacoby valentin had only nodded. apparating to hogsmeade with only a slight twist in his stomach - he was getting much better at it since the time he had splinched his left kneecap into birmingham - he gave the little eight-year-old a leg up onto his shoulders and settled her into place along the triangular muscle that comprised his shoulderblades, neck and collarbones. it was a position she was very accustomed to, and with a regal wave at an imaginary crowd, she urged him forward by kicking him in the ribs with booted heels. decked in woollen scarf, beanie, muffler, mittens and legwarmers, she could easily have passed for an oversized lamb long due for a shearing. never mind: while not particularly harsh, it was still winter and a freezing, complaining, grumpy asphodel was not something jac would ever willingly subject himself to. while going to hogsmeade during his winter holidays seemed self-defeating - and, moreover, dangerous for his image, considering the crowds of his schoolmates who would be undoubtedly flocking the alleyways of the little town - he could hardly argue with the whims of ash, who knew what she wanted and was determined to get it no matter what. besides, he found himself realizing that if he were spotted, anyone in their right mind could hardly be expected to recognize him as jacoby valentin. he had a blonde eight-year-old on his shoulders and a home-knitted rainbow scarf jauntily tossed on his neck, for merlin's sake: it could hardly be him, merely a trick of the eye, a well-made doppelgänger of himself. strolling through the streets, finding himself rather lucky not to see anyone he knew - or cared about, technically: there were plenty of faces he recognized from the junior segment of the school - he listened to ash speak in that quick, demanding tone of hers: they were to go left, now right, faster then much slower, over to that window and sidestep to afford her a better view. it would have looked like some ridiculous dance, like the peculiar movements a bee made to inform its fellows of the location of nectar. except he was instead a pureblood, informing his fellows that he was well and truly whipped by his ten years junior sister. 

a little ashamed by this, but unable to do anything more about it, he only headed forward down the crowded main street towards the beckoning mecca of childhood: honeyduke's. shelves stacked high with goodies designed to intoxicate children with sugar, melt their teeth into puddles of cavities and drive them mad with pent-up excess energy, it was the perfect place to find as many possible things to annoy jacoby as existed in the world. young children, energetic ones at that, cheerful music, helpful staff, bright colours and so much ungodly friendship. it was enough to make him nauseous with all the goodwill and charm still permeating the room. still, with a reach longer than most children here could ever aspire to have, he piled his arms high with whatever sweets took the fancy of his lofty blonde commander, sighing deeper as the collection grew ever larger. reaching forward over the top of some brunette girl to get one of what - he hoped - was the last of her desired objects, suddenly he was bumped into by someone behind him. whirling around angrily, a scowl already present on his face, he placed his collected wares up into asphodel's arms and turned on the offending, pitiful creature with a glare that could have wilted springtime daisies. refraining from saying anything - for the benefit of the child above his face only - he just surveyed the person before him, trying to figure out where he recognized them from. it was doomed from the start: he was so apathetic towards pretty much everyone on the face of the planet that trying to remember a stranger was like trying to convince him to marry a muggle. it just wasn't going to happen. so instead he just gave them a withering glance and looked over their features, assigning it to his memory. if he could remember his assailant, then upon their return to school he could exact a hardier punishment far from the meek eyes of his angel sister - who had hardly seen jac hurt a fly, let alone another human being. were he less annoyed he might have introduced himself, but his irritation overrode a long ingrained sense of politeness. He must have looked quite the picture: but despite his embarrassment, he looked as furious as he could be. how dare they ruin his outing with his sister? how dare they!

my love has concrete feet, my love's an iron ball, wrapped around your ankles over the waterfall

[tossi1]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width:320px; padding: 15px; background: #B1E7FC;][STYLE= float: left; width: 100px; height: 100px; background: url(http://i.imgur.com/JdrUF.jpg); border: #7DDAFF solid 5px;][/style][STYLE= float: left; width: 100px; height: 100px; background: url(http://i.imgur.com/JdrUF.jpg); border: #7DDAFF solid 5px; margin-left: 05px;][/style][STYLE= float: left; width: 100px; height: 100px; background: url(http://i.imgur.com/JdrUF.jpg); border: #7DDAFF solid 5px; margin-left: 05px; margin-bottom: 10px;][/style] [STYLE= color: #FFFFFF; font-family: georgia; font-size: 18px; text-align: center; line-height: 80%;]i'm a satellite heart, lost in the dark[/style][STYLE= background: #ffffff; width: 320px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; color: #7AD5F9; padding: 10px; border-top: #7DDAFF 10px solid; border-bottom: #7DDAFF 10px solid;]visiting hogsmeade was always an enjoyable time for danny; he never ran into other students the times he went, and when he did, they were usually the ones who were nice to him. after visiting his mother for a few hours, he'd made his way through the village and finally ended at honeydukes. that place was always the last he would go to before returning to hogwarts. he didn't know why, maybe it was the atmosphere, or the people. they were nice to him, despite the fact they didn't know his sexuality. It made him happy to be there, surrounded by sweets of all kinds and friendly people. It made him feel wanted. he walked inside with a small smile on his face, and reached up to loosen the striped, fluffy scarf that was twirled around his neck. he was wearing his favorite yellow colored skinny jeans and a white v-neck shirt under his black pea-coat. on his head he wore a wool-knit newsboy cap, and his feet were covered by black and white toms. his eyes were extremely blue today, not the hazely-blue color they usually were. some people were really fascinated by his eyes, and he, being his modest self, would dismiss himself saying that he'd seen better colored eyes. he knew that some others didn't like modest people, but he wasn't going to change. not for anyone. he'd grabbed a small basket and filled it with different kinds of candy; mostly pumpkin pasties, and started to make his way to the payment counter. he was so enveloped into the thought of sweets that he didn't even notice the large figure in front of him before bumping into it. he blinked and stepped back slightly, looking up at the now glaring person. his entire body froze, and he stared, the look on his face expressing pure terror. oh shit.. jacoby. he felt himself swallow nervously, and his heart beating faster and faster with each passing second. he took another step back before he lowered his gaze, grasping the basket in his hand tighter before shrinking away from the older student fearfully. jacoby was his main bully, the one who'd found him in the bathroom reading that damn magazine. the slytherin had been his top tormentor ever since, and danny, needless to say, was scared shitless by him. and the look on jacoby's face now assured him a good tormenting when they got back to school. he'd been silent for a few moments, contemplating his possible death before he glanced up at the other. he was carrying a little girl on his shoulders, most likely his little sister. and in his arms, was a pile of different sweets. he must have been being a good brother and taken his sister for an outing. and now, she was going to witness death. "I-I'm sorry, j-jacoby.." he squeaked out finally before starting to turn away, hoping that he would just leave the issue aside and let danny be on his way. please merlin, don't let me die today. he thought nervously.[/style]

[STYLE= text-align: right; font-family: courier new; font-size: 10px; width: 320px;]MADE BY CYANIDE CANDY[/style]

[junipertwo]

who is the betrayer? who's the killer in the crowd? one who creeps in corridors & doesn't make a sound

he had only been expecting this. trust the fortunes - or whatever other malignant little spirit enjoyed toying with the lives of mortals - to throw his one chance to have a good day back in his face. it just went to show that recurrent representations of his innate kindness were not in his best interests and if he intended to remain a impartial and not wounded as he was, he would have to refrain from doing them. he reserved the machinations of his heart for the holidays, a shred of goodwill and cheer holding the flame of his pride at bay. but this was the last straw, he swore. doing good only ever got him into trouble or, what was clearly worse, ruined his reputation. the face still meant nothing to him, and he had long given up on caring about it. chubby and - were it not at this moment preoccupied with showing abject terror - undoubtedly cheerful, it was the kind of face jacoby instinctively wanted to crush into a bloody pulp, for the offense of merely being in his presence. people who always looked happy were one of two things: hiding something more sinister, or else simply totally deranged. throwing a violent glare in his direction, pointing slowly at the girl on his shoulders and then miming a slit throat, hoping his not-so-subtle message would get through all the pudge to the almond that served for a brain. in his sisters' eyes he was an entirely different person. outside of hogwarts grounds, he wasn't going to let the precious pair know a thing about his personality. by the time merri got to first year he would be gone, and it would all be hearsay that he could deny as lies and slander. he was still sort of struggling but then, as if to smooth out his bumpy passage trying to give a name to the face, help arrived.

something far more descriptive than simple facial features helped ascertain his identity in jacoby's mind. a yelp, a pathetic little whine of fear and pain. now that was a sound he could remember. with a wolflike grin, he noted his prey, a juvenile gryffindor with about as much backbone as a dead pygmy puff. not worthy of his attentions, really, but more a welcome and easy distraction from more difficult and time-consuming adversaries. he'd messed up that face more times than he could count: no wonder he didn't recognize it, he was always rearranging it. despite the technologies of modern medicine, not even the matron of the sick bay could fix conplicated bone structures back to utter perfection. he flung into his thoughts for a name, settling one that didn't sound entirely wrong. "daniel," he said cordially, his trademark smirk plastering itself across his angular face. sadistically, he was very pleased the mere appearance of his face was enough to terrify the kid, and it gave a huge boost to his ego. despite his comical appearance, he could still scare the pathetic shit out of worthless little gryffindor worms. jacoby, he thought to himself, you've still got it. "say hello my little sister, asphodel," he said, a direct command and not to be taken as friendly, though he was trying his best to remain calm and keep up the good big brother persona. it was difficult. speaking cordially to a gryffindor halfblood, it was almost heart-breaking. if atlas could see him now, they might no longer be friends. he soothed himself. he could just beat his embarrassment out of this pathetic pudgy punching-bag when they got back. the thought calmed him thoroughly, and he might be able to refrain from hurting this kid for the duration of their conversation. and if dear dannyboy breathed a word to ash, he'd kill him afterwards. fair and square, right?

my love has concrete feet, my love's an iron ball, wrapped around your ankles over the waterfall