crazier than you -- mermia

[mel4]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 444px; background-image: url(http://i162.photobucket.com/albums/t264/nadzylala/TEMPLATES/LIGHTBKGBOYS.png); border-top: #B35C41 solid 10px; border-bottom: #B35C41 solid 10px; width: 457px; padding-top: 10; padding-bottom: 10;] madge arielle beckett , is crazier than you words, one thousand two hundred eighteen tagged, hermia brynlie whitaker She was wide awake. Every time she closed her eyes sleep did not come, for some reason. It was a strange occurrence. Usually, Madge had no trouble going to bed. More often than not she would trudge up to her room after another grueling quidditch practice to topple over onto her four poster bed face first and the moment her head hit the pillow, she was out like a light. However, that was not the case on this particular night it seemed. Instead she lie wide awake, staring up at the ceiling just above her. Her eyes scanned over the long trail of glow-in-the-dark stickers scattered from her side of the ceiling across the room over to where Hermia’s bed was situated in their dormitory. The stickers were solar system themed. The stickers had originally been part of a Christmas gift given to Hermia one year from Madge and the little oddball (as she was referred to affectionately by Madge) had been so ecstatic over the gift that that very same night she had demanded the two of them stay up all night placing the stickers up along the ceiling the way it was supposed to be done. The job honestly could have taken twenty minutes or so at best if using magic, but Hermia had protested profusely. She had wanted to put up the stars and planets in the muggle way since they were a piece of the muggle world that Madge had given her. Thus, Madge had ended up grumbling quietly under her breath while stealing a shirt from one of the other girls in their dorm to transfigure into a ladder. At least it had made Hermia happy. Just the thought of the younger girl’s happiness and innocence brought a half-smile to Madge’s face at that moment in time. Though she had complained that night about the placing of the stickers onto the ceiling taking too long, it had been worth it in the long run. Now every night before she went to sleep, she would get a glimpse of the stars and the planets and reminisce. Feelings of contentment were always present during those moments in time. It was a brief reprieve from all of the feelings she endured during the waking hours of each day. When alone, her thoughts always seemed to go down a dark path. When accompanied anywhere by Hermia, Madge found herself genuinely happy. That is the way it had always been with the two best friends. The two had been fated for friendship from the very beginning or that is what she liked to tell herself. It was either that or finally admitting to herself that misery loved company and she was misery personified. Though she was aware of this fact deep down in the darkest depths of her subconscious, she had not yet come clean about it to herself. She was still stuck in the denial stage. How in the hell did Hermia put up with all of her bullshit all the time? The poor girl deserved a medal of honor or something. It was a pretty epic feat if you asked her. Letting out a loud sigh, Madge threaded her fingers behind her head. She was itching to move and get up and go do something, but she was not sure just what she wanted to do and where she wanted to go. She was fairly sure you had to know just what you were doing and where you were going before you started scheming and all that jazz. Wordlessly calling her wand to her wand hand (her left; she is left-handed) in a subtle display of nonverbal magic, she sat up from her bed and stared at the four poster bed situated directly across from her own or rather the motionless feminine figure lying down upon the bed across from her own. She cocked her head to the side, weighing her options in her head. Currently it was almost three o’clock in the morning on Saturday morning. How did she know this? She had briefly checked the time once she felt her wand make contact with her hand a few moments before. Since it was so late or early – depending on how you looked at the time – she knew that she would need to be quiet if she did not want to wake up any of the other girls that her and Hermia shared a dorm with. Normally Madge did not give two flying fucks about waking up the other girls. However, she knew that if she wanted to be able to sneak out of the room with Hermia and go do Merlin knows what to entertain herself and her friend, she would need to be discreet and almost silent, especially when trying to catch her friend’s attention without alerting the others of what she was doing. It would benefit her cause in the long run. Besides, Madge rather liked it when things went her way. She did not want all of the odds to be against her. This is what prompted her to transfigure an old ratty sock into a small tin pale and with a flick of her wrist, and a muffled “Aguamenti,” a jet of clear, pure water began to fill up the pale with lukewarm water. A shit-eating grin slowly began to make its way upon her face as she watched the water rise up to the top of the small tin pale. Anyone else she knew would have probably spat in her face if she had thought to play such a harmless prank on them, but not Hermia. She knew her little oddball friend would think it was a funny experience and probably smile about it. The girl was too innocent for her own good some time and it was up to Madge to make sure that that innocent and gentle nature was protected at all times. She’d be damned if she let some ugly two-timing piece of shit lay his grimy hands of the girl she considered to be a sister in all but blood. Over her crippled and dead body. Slowly maneuvering her body off of the bed in such a way that she would not spill any water onto the ground or herself, Madge began to tip-toe across the room, her destination – Hermia Whitaker’s bedside. With the pale gripped tightly in one hand and her wand in the other, the eighteen year old could feel the excitement building up from the anticipation of what she was about to do to her best friend. Hermia was in for a lukewarm shower that morning, courtesy of one Madge Beckett. Each step she took brought her one step closer to her current goal and Merlin knows she was determined to see this particular prank through. It felt like forever before Madge finally came up to Hermia’s bedside. Taking a moment to glance down at her friend friend’s prone form, she silently cooed. That done with, she slowly lifted the tin pale up over the other girl… before flat out dumping the entirety of the water that was inside of the tin pale onto the motionless feminine figure before her. Cackling quietly to herself, her wide grin became almost feral in its outward appearance. “Morning cupcake!” She greeted her best friend sweetly. .......................

[/td][/tr][/table]TEMPLATE BY LALA YO! OF CAUTION 2.0[/center]

[HERMIA BRYNLIE WHITAKER]

TABLE MADE BY SOCKMONKEY OF CAUTION 2.0.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background-color: transparent;true] the sun won't stop with the compromise "Mummy, the boy fell into the cauldron. Don't make stew out of him. He has a family too!" Hermia whined frantically into her pillow. Her badger beanie was pulled over her face, covering her face to make it difficult for her to properly breathe. Gasps replaced what would normally be deep and content breaths. Restless sleep was the only sort of rest that Hermia could ever receive. If she slept more than five hours a night it would be considered a miracle. She didn't like to heckle Madge but a colorful variety of nightmares always greeted her when her eyes shut. Her aggressive best mate would have gone through drastic measures to assure that anything black no longer bothered her sleeping self. She didn't want the nightmares to cease. In her bouts of tossing and turning the faces of her parents, Linley and Taryn, clearly appeared to her. Four years and two orphanages later Hermia was still grasping onto the thin strands of them that appeared to her through stifling nightmares. Her delicate emotional structure was well hidden by the light hearted personality she presented before everyone. The airiness of Hermia wasn't a hoax, it was just that there was issues that lay under the surface. No one dug around any deeper. Hermia was a free spirited girl and nothing could ever weigh her down. Even the birds lost flight sometimes. The dream was consistent and constant. There was never a varying degree that added anything more or took anything away. It was always the boy in the cauldron with her mother watching over him. He sat in the pot as if it were a bubbling sauna that he was given the opportunity to relax in. Excitement covered every plane of his face. Her mother was adding herbs and vegetables into the bubbling water, which was surely scalding the boy’s ski. But to Hermia he didn’t seem bothered. All of this was seemingly thrilling to him. Soon he was going to become a victim to cannibalism at the hands of her mother. Still, he was grinning like he had just been gifted with lifetime passes to the Quidditch World Cup. Her mother, the boy, and the cauldron were incased in a thick sheet of class that was indestructible at the hands of Hermia. Even with an expert flick of her wand and carefully pronounced spells she failed to shatter through the invisible casing. Her wand was thrown aside. Switching to physical means Hermia beat at the class with her hands, soon breaking her skin and introducing a stream of crimson to all of the franticness. A wicked grinned donned on her mother’s face. In her grasp was a chunky wooden spoon that she used to swirl the water around in the pot. The boy was going to be picked to the bone by her mother and she could only watch. Madge was well informed of her nightmares. One night after Hermia woke up in a cold sweat she had gripped at her shoulders until she finally whispered out the replay of her nightmare. The redhead girl regarded herself as practically the charge of the orphan known as Hermia. No guy ever came close to Hermia without the approval of her best mate and unsaid mother. There were never any complaints on Hermia’s end of the situation. Having some watch over her so closely was comforting in a world where she lacked any sense of familial security. From the age of eleven the two had been stuck together. Stuck wasn’t the correct term. Madge had mistakenly discovered her mum’s shop while wandering Diagon Alley alone. Taryn beckoned her into the store, endlessly chattering, and called for Hermia to assist the confused Madge with whatever it was she needed. It was to Hermia’s delight that the girl would also be attending Hogwarts after the summer had ended. Sullen to see her go the little Whitaker soon perked up when she discovered Madge on the train once again. From the start of the first year they had practically become inseparable. Hermia had never been permitted into the Beckett household while Madge was always hustled into the Whitaker home. The death of her parents caused a break in their relationship, when she was moved into an orphanage and only gave Madge the chance to visit her. No more month long sleepovers for the girls. Still, Madge shamelessly stepped into the orphanage and claimed to everyone that Hermia was her best mate. Waking up to discontent would have been more suiting to Hermia than tossing in bed. Haunting images on her mum would be left imprinted in her mind for the greater part of the day. Hopefully Madge would realize how distracted she had become, her answers seeming more abstract and thoughts harder to piece together. It may have been early in the morning but while still in a restless sleep Hermia felt like she had been dozing for closer to a decade than only a few hours. Slim fingers pawed at her badger hat, tugging it more fiercely over her face. Her cardigan was twisted to constrict her body, leaving Hermia feeling even more short of breath. The thick blanket had been pushed aside after it had suffocated her with warmth halfway through the course of the night. Reality was disregarded in the dream world that the Hufflepuff had been plunged into. Madge tiptoeing across the dormitory with the pale carefully held in her grasp wasn’t noticed by the girl. Sleeping Hermia may have tossed and turned furiously but it was near impossible to try and arouse her into wakefulness. Her best mate had a devious grin and tipping the pale over onto Hermia was personal alarm clock. There was no squeal or sound of shock when the icy water splashed all over her. Only hazel eyes widened and lips quirked into a perfect ‘o.’ She sprang up to sit ramrod straight, a goofy grin spreading onto her face as she peered up at Madge. “That was the most pleasant wakeup call I have ever received.”

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1010 words for mel. wearing ,this. muse is bad.

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[mel4]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 444px; background-image: url(http://i162.photobucket.com/albums/t264/nadzylala/TEMPLATES/LIGHTBKGBOYS.png); border-top: #B35C41 solid 10px; border-bottom: #B35C41 solid 10px; width: 457px; padding-top: 10; padding-bottom: 10;] madge arielle beckett , is crazier than you words, seven hundred fifty tagged, hermia brynlie whitaker It was a rather good thing that Madge had been preoccupied with drenching her best friend to wake her up because had she been paying attention like usual, she would have picked up on the fact that Hermia had been furiously tossing and turning. This would have made her realize that the younger girl was having nightmares again. The redhead preferred to know when something was wrong. She wanted to be able to help her oddball when she was sick and when she was afraid. She truly did care for her like a mother hen at times. It was her older sister gig. Hermia was not just her best friend; she was her only family – with the exception of her elder brother, Brendan, of course. Though that was not the main point; the main point was that Hermia had become just like family to Madge and if there was one positive trait to the Beckett daughter, it was that she was straight up loyal to that rare bunch of people who were either lucky or foolish enough to befriend her. For Hermia’s presence in her life, Madge was eternally thankful. Even if she probably did not deserve to be friends with the sweet as a frosted cupcake Hufflepuff who never failed at making her smile with all of her witticisms. She was so clever, she was. Her reaction to getting showered with water did not surprise her one bit. “That was the most pleasant wakeup call I have ever received.” Hermia told her, having sprang up from her now damp sheets to sit up straight. She had this goofy little grin on her face while peering up at the abrasive older girl. The feral expression that had once been displayed on her face seemed to dissipate entirely, leaving the redhead standing there with the softest facial expression on her face. She peered down at Hermia, not really smiling, but not frowning either. Madge was content. “Did you sleep well?” She asked. It was a standard greeting of hers. She was checking in on the younger Hufflepuff to make sure she was receiving the required winks. “No nightmares were dreamt?” She inquired. She wanted to make sure that everything was alright. It was better to be safe than sorry. Madge’s eyes traveled upwards to stare at the sleeping cap upon the brunette’s head. She remembered she had been present when Hermia had bought that ridiculous cap. It was a night cap beanie that was in the shape of a badger. It was one of the lamest and yet cutest things she had ever laid eyes on. Granted, she would never admit that out loud. She remembered she had scoffed at her brunette friend when the girl had shown it to her, claiming that she was going to buy it to wear to bed each night from then on. Madge had just fondly rolled her eyes, made a few quips about the beanie and went on with her day. Later on, she remembered having woken up one morning to find her own beanie atop her head. However, hers was actually froggie themed with not a badger in sight. She had laughed her ass off when she realized that Hermia must have purchased one for her when she had been otherwise occupied with bitching out the cashier who had almost ripped the two girls off had Madge not caught the crook. She had made such a ruckus that day. Then again, she caused bedlam wherever she went. It was nothing out of the norm. Putting down the pale onto the floor next to Hermia’s bed, Madge dived onto the bed head first. She sprawled herself out on the bed, getting comfortable. “Alright, Herms. Here’s the deal. We’re getting the fuck out of here.” She got straight down to business. “I can’t sleep. So, I figure you shouldn’t either. Besides, it’s Saturday.” She spread her arms out as if to make a snow angel in the sheets. “It’s only three in the bloody morning. We have the whole day ahead of us to go do something, but I feel like getting an earlier start.” Madge maneuvered her body to face Hermia. “What do you say, badger?” Badger was just another affectionate nickname she had for the oddball. Hermia was the badger. Madge was the frog. Both names were fitting for the two girls or so they both thought. “Let’s blow this popsickle stand, babe. We have shit to do.” She said with a grin. .......................

[/td][/tr][/table]TEMPLATE BY LALA YO! OF CAUTION 2.0[/center]

[HERMIA BRYNLIE WHITAKER]

TABLE MADE BY SOCKMONKEY OF CAUTION 2.0.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background-color: transparent;true] the sun won't stop with the compromise Anyone else who had a sane piece of their mind would have called their best mate bonkers for so cruelly awaking them, especially at a time that was only for the night owls. Hermia was an owl of the night but most of her after dark hours were not spent prowling around, rather in bed as she tussled with her own inner thoughts and became entangled in her sheets. More things that were considered odd had happened to Hermia Whitaker than being riled in the middle of the night with shockingly chilly water because her best friend could not rest properly. No one else would have been as understanding as Hermia, even she could step out of her modest ways and claim such a thing. Others actually would have cowered after waking up to an aquatic surprise to find that Madge was hovering off their bed with a face that would appear as unreadable to them. Something close to an absurd affectionate was how she viewed Madge's unique way of raising her from the restless sleep. Anger did not bubble through Hermia's crimson trail, so she would not be irritated, not that would have been the case even if she was more fiery. Never ever could she find herself upset or outraged at Madge Arielle Beckett. The worst of feats could be performed by the sinister Hufflepuff and Hermia would only adore her even more. This was borne out of her unnatural affection for the girl and the way that Hermia had practiced herself to blacking out anything dastardly. Now her whole self was drenched, completely from head to the toe. The water had done some dramatic stunt, managing to spill out from the miniature pale and tumble over every inch of her body. Her sheets had been more lucky, only dotted with drops that decided they hadn't wish to cling to the Hufflepuff's body. Her childish shirt, cardigan, and nighttime leggings were soaking, soon her skin had become covered with goose pimples and her teeth wished direly to chatter obnoxiously. Madge wouldn't feel remorse if she saw the brunette suffering from the spill of water because she was aware that Hermia would pin no blame on her at all. A goofy grin still placed itself on her face like a shining beacon that posed as an outlet for all of her beaming radiance. Madge only further fueled Hermia's brightness, she was the ultimate reason for her to shine. "You know that the boy in the cauldron visits me every night. He is as absolute as the rising sun," she said to Madge, the smile fading but not wholly vanishing from Hermia's face. Depression wasn't something Hermia ever fell into, but she did have her own lows, and they were the lowest. Now she was beginning to plunge into one: her nightmares. "If I only I knew his name, then maybe I could rest easy," she spoke longingly, eyes fading into fuzziness. Her past was pulling her in, threatening to swallow her whole and never spit her back up. Hermia was sailing off out to sea, her soul getting caught in a wave that she had no power against. Crashing waves were luring out further into the blue depths of the ocean. A rescue boat hovered close by, with a secure promise for safety, but even then she did not want to be swept up to a place where nothing could harm her. Madge swiftly diving onto the sheets was the only thing that roused her out of the thought coma that she was slowly falling into the bed and making herself right at home. "Where do you reckon we go at a little past three o'clock in the morning?" Hermia was being completely genuine with her question, not even joking in the slightest. Sarcasm was not something that she specified in, she left Madge to that. "Of course, it is no fair to you. I cannot rest peacefully and leave you lonely in your wakefulness!" she dramatically cried, in utter seriousness mind you. Hermia squealed when Madge turned to her, sweeping her hand down to brush the ginger locks that fell into her face. In one jump she was off the bed, slightly dry now and filled with refreshed energy. "I say onward we go, Froggie!" 710 words for mel. wearing this. muse is cooperating.