a desperate bid for freedom [[starke]]

[fallensiren]

A cold, cruel breeze assaulted Siren at the top of the Astronomy Tower as the sun began to set, vibrant colors of sherbert and rust and sunflower assaulting the gray patches of clouds and cobalt patches of sky overhead. She let the breeze whip through her chestnut hair, making it fly, as the wind stung a hot blush into her cold cheeks, coloring them deep pink. Her blue eyes roamed the horizon, distant, unseeing. Solitude was so beautiful at this time of day; so preferable, truly, to any sort of affiliation with any other wretched human beings. Like her dorm mates, or her class mates, or any kind of mates, really, because recently, Siren was less prone than ever to enjoy affiliation with anyone.

Perhaps it had something to do with her night with Daven Greengrass, whom she hadn't seen since; or perhaps something to do with Starke Diggory, whose presence for about an hour had ruined her little remaining tolerance for company. Her lips twisted in a scowl as she thought of the two of them. Her conversation with Diggory still burned, sharp as day, in her memory.

"You dare call nothingness reality? I'm nothing more than an echo of you!"

She flinched automatically; his voice was real, furious, vivid in her mind, her own personal curse, perhaps, to remember such a terrible phrase and delivery. "Starke," she murmured, twisting her fingers together, her lips still moved in a deep frown.

The wrought-iron balcony around the rim of the Astronomy Tower was calling her. Just a brief flirt with death, she thought to herself, amused, as she approached it. For the hell of it.

She placed her hands on the slim railing and, elegantly, easefully, hoisted herself onto it, balancing precariously at the edge of the oblivion that awaited her, should she fall from the Tower. After a few hesitant steps, she felt more balanced, and glanced again towards the sunset, taking her mind off her own two feet and how dangerously they were arranged.

[james]

[… drama queen]

A mind could not be more plagued with one thought, or more selfish in that thought. Though when many youths were gone for over a month they came back to school re-charged, Strake could not be more distracted. He could only focus on his current predicament and fear for what was going to happen to him next. Exploding toilets, incinerating rags, and attacking books surely was enough of an excuse to have him on edge.

Despite how relieved he was to be in some company, less enthralled with others, he additionally feared being around anyone. It was only a matter of time before someone was caught up in his own dire circumstance; he’d feel awful if something happened to anyone else because of him – something he could not control, but because of him nonetheless.

So it was that Starke found himself consciously making an effort to avoid people and seek out locations that he hoped to be vacant. That may lead one to wonder just why he was climbing the steps to the Astronomy Tower now. Under usual circumstances most students were not too excited about being in a classroom location when unnecessary, but this particular evening simply lent itself to occupation.

When he exited to the top of the tower, his eyes were immediately met with the splendor of the sky, the last warm rays of the day washed away with a chilling breeze of the coming evening. He breathed in the crispness of the air, when he became aware that he was not the first person up there.

While the immediate glance may have suggested emptiness, Starke was now aware of a girl on the edge… quite literally. Without thinking, his feet swept across the floor, and his hand gripped the back of her shirt to give a strong tug. He pulled her down, catching her body in his arms. “What, are you crazy?!” He asked with an elevated voice of surprise. He leaned forward, the familiar body still gripped tightly in his embrace, to peek over the side. His stomach gave a lurch, and he looked back finally at the person he presumably did something irreversible.

He almost regretted it. Not the act, but that he had been the one to do so. “Oh… that I should have to ask.” He said in disappointed tone, and released her with a tainted feeling.

[fallensiren]

[...you rang?]

Footsteps, the rush of a hand gripping the back of her shirt, being tugged down from her perilous traipse across the balcony, and in a short few seconds Siren found herself being caught in the strong arms of someone vaguely familiar. "Oomph," she muttered.

"What, are you crazy?!"

Yes, that was Starke Diggory all right. A quick glance up into his face was enough to certify that fact. She hadn’t seen him for quite some time – well, no one had, anyway – but she’d still recognize the voice and face that had been echoing in her thoughts just moments before. A slight smile twitched her lips as her stomach gave a little squirm of pleasure; even after their first and last encounter, she was, sort of, in an undoubtedly self-destructive way, very happy to see him, of all people, up here in the Astronomy Tower so late at night.

The moment of slight contentment didn’t last, though; his eyes caught on her face the slightly revolted look that he gave her made her stomach squirm in irritation and misery. "Oh…that I should have to ask." His voice was disappointed. Her feet hit the ground as he released her, but immediately she closed the space between them again.

"Why the bloody hell didn’t you just push me, then?" she snapped, her stormy hazel eyes staring up into his face, the brief spurt of happiness fading from her features as irritation – and some reminiscent self-loathing – rushed in. "Your own fucking peace of mind would have been so much better off, I promise you."

She hardly knew this boy – man – whatever; in her mind, he was hardly more than a child after their last encounter – and yet, found herself absolutely belittled and infuriated by him. It was terrible taxing on the nerves, and her nerves were already shot as it was, thus the lack of her usually calm outward demeanor.

[james]

Ages seemed to have passed since Starke had seen Siren last. But for being little more than an acquaintance in the amount of time they spent together, she had not faded from his memory. Their encounter, even in its brevity, had been more intense than he had had even with those he had known the longest. It had crossed his mind that that might just have had something to do with it, but his incident had happened so soon afterwards that she had ceased to enter his mind on a regular basis after about a week.

Now, by the mere sight of her, his anxiety by her was slowly returning. Just by seeing her, he felt uneasy. Like she had some insight to him that she could hold over him in a manner of blackmail. He certainly distrusted her as such, and his body felt rigid when he realized just whom he was talking to.

Though his feet were planted firmly on the ground, he pulled away cautiously with his shoulders, his eyes fixated on Siren as though she would attack him if he looked away. He might have been justified by that; after all, she was fully advancing on him… and after saving her from her own insanity no less!

He knew better than to let his guard down, even in the face of a passionate comment that should provoke an angry and outraged response. Really, what sort of guy did she think he was?! He conveniently forgot walking out on her in a moment of need, and held her entirely responsible for this crazy notion of pushing her off the tower... though he really doubted doing so would ease the current burden of his mind.

Managing to withhold a verbal attack, he still could not help a quizzical expression at her absurd proposal. “I don’t make it a habit to indulge people in their destructive behaviour.” He said, realizing only after the narrowing of his eyes as he thought of his cousin, who was a walking disaster.

[fallensiren]

Destructive? Siren could have laughed, but instead, her teeth chattered; the absurdity of the situation, coupled with the brisk breeze still making its way through the tower, was enough to send chills straight down her spine.

"No, you just make it a habit to promote your own," she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest in a huddle against the cold, still looking at him reproachfully.

Never mind that he'd walked out on her precisely as she was making enormous progress in behaving like an actual human being; never mind that he'd run away just for her suggestion to try to get to who or what Starke Diggory really was. She was furious with him for that encounter, still, though at the time, all she'd felt was a very melancholy, terrible loneliness. Well, that had been assuaged, pushed down deep into another forgotten chamber of her icy, frozen heart, but she couldn't believe that she'd chosen so wrongly in trying to reach out to another human being. Anyone else would have been ecstatic. Starke? No. Too wrapped up in being an echo of everybody to really care what she wanted: just him. The real thing, not the politically correct outer shell.

She clenched her teeth together to stop them trembling. "And I wasn't being destructive," she added, feeling the need to clarify her position. "I was just up here, minding my own business, taking a poke around...decided to walk on the railing. I have impeccable balance. It was gallant of you, trying to save me from myself, but we've tried that before, haven't we?" Her eyes burned.

The pent-up fury from their last encounter was gnawing at her, struggling to burst free. She pressed her lips together before any other infuriating words burst from her mouth to assault him. She was certain that they wouldn't strike home, anyway.

[james]

The matter of the fact was, Starke had no idea how to feel about Siren. No one had changed his mind faster or more drastically in a short amount of time. Her beauty and mystique was undeniable, but whenever she spoke he would quickly be reminded of her unusual nature. And though she caused no real permanent damage, he could not help feel the hurt she had caused by her rejection of him. Now he could only hate her out of protection for himself. He had been so ready to give what he could, as he readily did with many people, that he never realized just how destructive that could be to him. She may have been right in that, but he would never promote again around her. That was his revenge… even if she didn’t feel that way.

“Oh well,” Starke retorted with only a tinge of challenge above indifference, “then by all means, climb back up.” He pushed her gently back with a hand to her shoulder, mostly in an attempt to make some distance between them. Her closeness was getting to him. It was too strange and unnerving to have such ease with someone he was set on hating. He did not want the thin line between love and hate to be skewed or lost sight of. “I won’t make the same mistake twice.” Or rather a third time. She had a point. He seemed fated, or rather condemned to be there when she was in need. If even emotionally. Someone really must have had it out for her, if that was the case.

[fallensiren]

His soft push to her shoulder, she knew, was an attempt to get her out of his personal space, and she had to admit, she was rather closer than civil conversation would have deemed necessary. She smarted at the suggestion; did he really care so little for her well-being, that he would encourage her to self-destruct? But no...she knew better. She knew that she made him uncomfortable. She knew his secret, or, at least, part of it. That he'd long since lost sight of who he really was; that he served merely as a reflection for those around him. Those in need.

She crossed her arms over her chest again, looking up at him. The expression on her face had gentled; the anger seemed to fade in light of remembering what she remembered. "I make you uncomfortable," she reasoned aloud, tilting her head slightly to the side as she frowned at him. "Don't I?"

Her hazel eyes fastened to his, interested. It was rare that another person weighed heavily on her mind, but for Siren, every time thoughts of Starke surfaced she found herself wondering. What she'd actually seen that day in the wood outside of Hogsmeade, what she'd missed, what she could have done differently. There had been a thousand possible outcomes. And they had surely chosen the worst one.

"I can prove that I'm perfectly civil," she added quietly, taking a small step nearer to him again - not as near as before, but within a meter. "We can have a normal conversation. I don't blame you. If you like, we could even forget about it and start over."

She doubted that he would go for it, but she could hope all the same. And eventually, she would figure him out. The idea of it pulled her in. She wondered how terribly fed up a person could possibly get with being a mere echo. It would have thoroughly destroyed her nerves.

[james]

As much as he disliked how she made him feel, Starke did not really want Siren to resume her precarious stroll on the edge. She may have claimed to have impeccable balance, but it only took once. And as much as he liked to play the hero, with her or anyone else, he would probably not dive over the edge after her. And if he did he was a damned fool. But it wouldn't be the first time he did something foolish; even he could not know what he would do, really.

Though he did not answer her forward and justified question, she was one hundred percent. She made him entirely nervous. And he didn't like the idea that she didn't feel the same way about him. Did she really have so much control over him and he so little in return? It was not as though he was not used to these relationships, but he hated to think that even in this type he was the weaker link. He swallowed and resisted the urge to mirror her in crossing his arms. Instead, he put his hands in his pockets and looked away in an aimless direction.

With a glance back, he realized she was still staring at him and after hesitance, his eyes unsure at first, he stared back down at her. He was steady until she moved closer to him and his insides jumped. He had a strong instinct to step back immediately, but was too stunned to do so. Why was she so persistent in getting closer to him? Maybe this was her way of being civil. But unlike her, he was not so easily swayed in his feelings.

He was perfectly aware that she could flop back and forth like a bipolar person, but he was not one to forget... and she had been the one who hurt him when he was just trying to help. Of course she shouldn't blame him. His teeth grit together at the presumptuous nature of this girl. How dare she insinuate that she had any right to forgive. But he didn't want an argument either. "Why would I want to do that?" He asked, in semi-earnest. He really could not see the point... he was the one with friends. He wasn't the one running people off. She was the one in need. Not him.

[fallensiren]

Her eyes, framed by thick black lashes, stared up at Starke, almost pleading. She felt so weak at the moment - so fragile and tired that her barriers were, again, down, as they had been the last time she and Diggory had interacted - and hated the feeling. The last thing she needed was to be weak around him, to reveal herself, again, to someone who could only echo back at her, like a parrot. But she was still unbearably curious, and she still wanted to see the Starke Diggory that hid from everyone else...

She jolted back from her thoughts as he gritted his teeth, obviously even more put off by her closeness. "Well," she began, her voice delicate, "I'm not entirely sure. It's just that we're both going for an aimless stroll in the middle of the night and, it seems to me, at the moment at least, we have a lot in common. A sort of camaraderie, if you will, which I know you probably won't. I know you would rather feed yourself to hyenas than confide in me, but..."

She hesitated. Merlin, she was so tired. She sounded like she was rambling, even to herself; her own voice seemed distant as she spoke, echoing in a fashion that hurt her ears. She winced, and then immediately hoped he hadn't seen, though that was improbable.

"Well, for what it's worth," she said, breaking the gaze and staring down at her feet instead as her stomach lurched, "you make me nervous, too."

She moved away, irritated with herself, feeling a rush of blood to her head that caused brief dizziness. She reached out to grip the railing at the edge of the tower, leaning on it, looking out at the midnight scenery, and felt repulsed by herself. Showing weakness was one thing; admitting to such nonsense was another. She swallowed hard, and stared down into the murkiness at the bottom of the tower. The stars felt too bright.