a poor excuse for poetry

         antigone waited in thought        ;        part of them was simply musing the words in their head. speaking them our to the ether;   grateful for having another artist so close by to receive, digest, and give that creative spark the lighting it deserved.          lunch was a mindless affair for antigone now.     sure, they could eat food.   she could still taste it as much as anyone else could,    but a certain fakeness seemed to accompany it now that left an awful distaste in the artists’ mouth.   though;   she wasn’t quite sure if that distaste was also just an accompanying vampiric trait.

           ❝   well having a star named after you –          there’s a sense of recognition – no,  pride in that one.  ❞   tiggy commented thoughtfully,   her words slow and fully sounded out as she considered each syllable that parted through darkly painted lips,     ❝   but seeing a star /    and seeing yourself in a star,  forever linking it to yourself,   isn’t there something kind of –  -    personal  about it ?       ❞     she continued to muse,     their words faltering slightly in clarity,    ❝   everyone else knowing it was yours,    guess that’s just an added bonus.    guess if you find the star it’s yours to name;   but i never did pay attention in astrology.  ❞

cecily took a second to look at antigone before nodding at their words; people didn’t always need those signs of active listening to know you were listening, and in fact cecily was sure they wouldn’t see her stillness as a sign of distraction. but  ---  she was thinking, and had always found that thinking worked best when she was moving.  “ muggles have all sorts of websites where you can pay to purchase and name a star, “  cecily said.  “ which seems a shame. I can’t imagine looking up and seeing something you could buy. it’s  ...  it’s impersonal, more than personal. “ 

she leaned back in her seat and cocked her head, mulling over the conversation a little more.  “ I don’t know if I’d want a star named after me, though. there is that recognition  ...  but I don’t know that I want it. “  she refocused on antigone and directed her question at them directly, just a step past the introspection of name and stars; it felt terribly embarrassing, sometimes, to think about things like this in front of another person, but she was caught up in the conversation now.  “ don’t all the constellations and stars feel like they’re named after someone in mythology? usually someone with a tragic story  ---  they fell in love with the wrong person and died and got their name in the sky as consolation. being seen as a star sounds heady, but I don’t know if it’d be worth my life. “  she shrugged. it was hardly a choice anyone aside from her friend was offering her. cecily, so far, was not living a life that lead to that kind of tragedy.  “ I suppose I might change my mind one day. “

It was true; Simone had a tendency to prefer staying spread out, especially when she was researching something for work. That wasn’t the case now though, and she also didn’t mind making space. “I was on the go all night and didn’t have time to think about how tired I was,” she said with a wry smile. It had been a busy night and that was a nice thing usually. “And I certainly don’t mind, although I think that’s probably an exaggeration. So what sort of normal things do people talk about at this time of day in the cafe? The weather?”

“ wouldn’t it be cool to name a star after yourself? ”

cecily cocked her head in consideration  ---  used the time spent thinking over an answer to be sure she’d fully incorporated all the sugar into her coffee. it was nice to get to grab a quick lunch with tiggy, but the truth was cecily had had a late start to her morning and desperately needed the caffeine to kick-start her brain. not working on a set schedule was lovely, but sometimes she wasn’t convinced she was very good at it.  “ I guess it depends. would I be sitting alone outside, deciding that a star was called cecily? “  she raised an eyebrow and raised her cup to lips, a tandem action, tossing the rhetorical question across the table.  “ or would everyone one day decide that I could pick any star I wanted to be named cecily? because, you know, one option is far cooler than the other. “

When: Feburary 29th, 2024 Where: The Ministry of Magic Atrium Who: Corinna & anyone who can go to the Ministry

Corinna Vance had been summoned to the Committee for the Disposal of Magical Creatures earlier in the day to discuss a potential thestral on the loose in downtown muggle London. While Corinna certainly didn’t mind that they’d summoned her, she had minded the attitude that had come through quite effectively by the members of the Committee. As if it was her fault that some bloody idiot had managed to let an invisible creature to most, loose. They’d asked her questions like, ‘Can we control it once it’s found?’– Well, of course. ‘Could Muggles see the creature?’ – Theoretically, they could, if they had seen death, much like any witch or wizard. The questions bored her and ultimately the conclusion the room had come to was the same one that she had recommended a week ago… Send her along with the enforcers that they chose to send. 

Now, she sat on the edge of the fountain, flipping through today’s Daily Prophet with an enlarged title article entitled ‘LEAP YEAR– NOT LEAP FROG’. She rolled her eyes as this was simply not news but rather just a date. Another day in the grand scheme of things. And yet, apparently this was the most notable news. Annoyed, Corinna huffed to herself, closing the paper and reaching her copy over to the person next to her. “Have this, it’s utter garbage but I cannot stand to look at it anymore,” she insisted, adding an eye roll at the paper. “Extra! Extra! Read all about it. There’s another fuckin’ day in the year. Let’s focus on that rather than– quite literally anything else,” she grimaced. Her mind longed for new information and this certainly wasn’t hitting her nerd-nerve for the day. “Apologies,” she sighed, calming herself. 

cecily hadn’t especially wanted the offered copy of the paper; she already had a subscription to the prophet, delivered by her owl each morning over breakfast. it felt, quite frankly, wasteful to take another copy of the paper when she had no intention of reading it. cecily wasn’t a person who often did things for politeness’ sake  ( sometimes politeness was just a morally justified excuse for lying )  but the idea of leaving the woman with her hand outstretched, prophet dangling between them  ---  it bordered on mortifying. awkward and rude and pointless. she took hold of the paper with a light flicker of a smile, glancing down at the headline in question as she did so.  “ oh, “  cecily said, recognition replacing the expression with ease.

“ I know the  ---  ah, the journalist whose work that is. if I’m not mistaken, further down in the article it should be a very disparaging story on the committee that votes on who gets put on chocolate frog cards. they meet yearly in late february, which is really quite serendipitous, because  ...  well, it makes for an easy headline. “  she set the paper down on the space between them  ( sparing a second’s hope that it didn’t end up sliding its way into the fountain )  and allowed her lips to curve into a crooked smile.  “ whether or not you fine the committee for considerate chocolate card choosing worthy of focus is another point entirely, I suppose. but at least it’s an article that does more than a calendar. “

“Of course,” she said quietly as she finished stacking her things and smiled again. “No, I don’t need space. I just spread out, I guess. It happens.” Chuckling, she pushed her hair behind her ears. “That seems like the most likely explanation. I only meant to sit for a minute but then I just couldn’t get up. And there’s no need for you to rush off, honestly. I don’t mind sharing a table and conversation about normal things - although we don’t have to talk. I’m not sure I’ll make any sense as it is.”

“ but sometimes it’s nice to stay spread out when you already are, “  cecily countered just as quietly. she wasn’t sure there was much cause to push this point, except that she wanted to be sure she wasn’t an imposition.  “ I don’t take up much room if you end up needing to spread back out while I’m here. “  she broke the other woman’s gaze and flipped her notebook open, stuck a freshly sharpened quill in the last place she’d left off writing. cecily used it as a bookmark and picked up her coffee. she held it just under her chin and let the warm steam drift over her senses, using the pause to tilt her head at simone.  “ I get that. you don’t realize how tired you are until you sit down. well, as long as you don’t mind that I’m a rather poor conversationalist  --- “  not the best thing to say, when half her living was made talking to people and publishing the conversations. she took the tiniest of sips and carried on, the barest hint of a smile winding across her face.  “  ---  I’d be happy to stay and talk. about normal things. “

“ thanks so much for meeting with me, “  cecily said, a smile as easy as she could get firmly in place. the line, her opener, was kind of a necessity; and she was sure james had heard it a hundred times from a hundred reporters. she stuck her hand out to shake and added, “ Cecily Skeeter-Atlas. “  routine introduction out of the way, cecily breezed onto next thing she needed to get out  ---  “ my editor made a few choice comments about your looks when discussing our goals for this piece and I just need you to know we don’t need to discuss them in this interview. “  her smile twisted into something wry  ( something less professional than ‘interviewer introducing herself to interviewee’ called for ) and she hoped he understood that she hadn’t been supposed to disclose that. it just felt like the sort of information you didn’t withhold.  

“ we’re just here to talk your career. they’d like for you to talk about your family too, just light, positive anecdotes  ---  but we don’t need to discuss them either, if you don’t want to. “  she shrugged.  “ we want a feel-good profile on you, and I don’t see how it could come across that way if you don’t feel good. “

Simone straightened up and nodded quickly, sweeping her things over to create more space. The cafe was crowded for the time - although truthfully, she rarely came for breakfast after a shift, preferring to head straight to Cora and Rory and spend time with them instead of strangers. “Please,” she said belatedly, gesturing at the empty seat. “I hadn’t realized how crowded it was. I think it was quieter when I came in.”

cecily wasn’t quite sure why there was something so strange in waiting for someone to clear a space for you. she hadn’t had a lot  ( or, really, any )  friends growing up, so there had never been an implicit understanding with another person that they’d save her a seat. she always had to ask; at least as an adult in a country that was not her own, asking felt a little less excruciating. anyone else in her situation, she told herself, would do the same. would have to do the same. the polite smile on her face warmed a touch in simone’s direction and mumbled a quiet, honest, “ thanks. “  she slid into the cleared space and tried not to let her stuff take up too much room. really  ---  aside from her notebook and some quills, all she had was her coffee.  “ if you need more room, I really don’t have that much with me. the crowdedness probably  ...  snuck up. so I could leave as soon as another table clears. “

Who: Simone & Open Where: A cafe near St. Mungo’s When: Thursday, February 22, early morning

It had a long shift and Simone didn’t even bother changing out of her robes as she left St. Mungo’s and made her way to her favorite (magical) cafe. She wanted some food and then she could apparate home and maybe have time to say hello to her family before she crashed for some much needed sleep. But the news prevented her from enjoying herself; her mind kept spinning round and round the new decree, and what it meant for the extended family she barely knew, and what it meant for her own relationship. It was a bad sign, a first step on a slippery slope and she just wanted to keep her family safe. A noise behind her startled from her thoughts and she jerked up. “Sorry - did you say something?”

for someone who had spent so long in pseudo - isolation, who had a career that kept her solitary by design, cecily didn’t much like being alone. when she could, she sought out places where other wixen congregated to write  ---  even cafes that swelled to the brink of overcrowded early in the morning. the news and decrees being pushed out by this country’s ministry just made her all the more eager to be around others. she didn’t want to disturb this woman  ...  but she didn’t want to leave so early and go back to her apartment with no one but her cat and owl around. she noted the st. mungo’s robes and thought, that does wonders to explain her preoccupation, as if further explanation than recent news was needed.  “ sorry, “  she said. a polite and perfunctory smile curving on her face.  “ there’s just not that many open seats. would you mind if I sat down? “

who: open to adults (just bc the students are in hogwarts sdfg)

“Yeah, I have to say, as far as break-up related revenge goes—or even just any sort of revenge, really—turning your ex into a duck with cornflake skin is both extremely unexpected and wildly effective. Definitely the weirdest Valentines incident I’ve ever seen.”

“ that does sound like so much work, though, “  cecily said with a wrinkled nose.  “ can’t one just  ...  not turn someone into a duck? perhaps humiliate them without breakfast cereals? or at the very least, do one or the other? the idea of both feels terribly taxing. just write a scathing op-ed about their skills in bed and move on. “ 

where: the white wyvern when: january 1, 2024, 3:00pm who: open

This lockdown was more than a little inconvenient, but never let it be said Mei allowed inconveniences to keep her from her work. And it wasn’t bad for business—-as she left the one of the private parlors that adjoined the main bar of the Wyvern, she took note that it was much busier than a typical weekday at 3pm. She didn’t often frequent the public areas of the Wyvern, but the occasional glimpse of her allowed people to remember who was in charge.

She approached the bar when suddenly one of the wixen at her side—-a bodyguard in all but name—stepped in front of her. She wasn’t sure if the person they’d blocked from her view had meant to approach her, or had simply had the misfortune to not know any better than to walk in her way, but she waved the guard back anyway, curious. “Did we have an appointment?”

“ an appointment, “  cecily repeated  ---  not quite a question, not quite not a question. the reporting she did, sporadic, assignments that she picked up at her leisure, was not hard-hitting journalism. she rarely thought of herself as a journalist; but still she knew the value of letting a conversation take you where it willed. she was meeting one such sporadic assignment here, at the interviewees request, and she could well admit she was more intrigued by the welcome she’d found than the story she was meant to write. 

she wasn’t quite certain who this woman was, why someone stepped between her and cecily ( if only for them to step aside, once again, at the woman’s signal. )  but cecily’s curiosity was well piqued. she tilted her head and allowed her perfect english to take on a stronger hit of her accent, native french curling just on the other side of her words. cecily wouldn’t lie and feign ignorance, pretend she might have had a meeting with the woman  ---  but it was as tempting as any half-truth ever was to her.  “ no, I’m afraid I don’t have an appointment. not with you, anyway. “

❝ what I want from this poem is the loosening of my throat. ❞

AMANDA SEYFRIED? No, that’s actually CECILY SKEETER - ATLAS. Only TWENTY SIX years old, this BEAUXBATONS alumni works as a WRITER and is sided with THE NEUTRALS. SHE identifies as A CIS WOMAN and is a HALF-BLOOD who is known to be CLOSED OFF, PESSIMISTIC, and BLUNT but also OBSERVANT, WONDROUS, and ADAPTIVE. { ZOE, 20, CST, SHE/HER }      ------      pinterest. playlist.