Shrieking Shack

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Siwoo & Seoul
PS "I'm here," Siwoo announced with a subtle grin. He hoped it wasn't obvious he was excited, though he was sure he was going to embarrass himself some other way. (22:17, January 1, 2019 (UTC))

PS "O-Okay," he conceded, glancing at the array of cans. He glanced at what Seoul was working on and tilted his head, getting some semblance of an idea. He grabbed a few paint cans and looked around for something to use. He settled for another large rock, a little smaller than Seoul's bit big enough for what he hand in mind. He shook a can of red paint and got to work creating a bloody backdrop for the beautiful abstract vicious lion he would soon paint afterward. Of course, he couldn't work in silence so he made conversation while he did so. "What's your favorite piece that you've done? I kinda want to get a feel of what kind of artist you are. I'm not really a giant art person but I like to think I'm kind of artistic?" (23:59, January 1, 2019 (UTC))

PS He listened to Seoul as he worked, thinking about what kind of person he was, based on his tone, his words. Occasionally he glanced at him to find any mannerisms. When Seoul finished, he was silent. He hated moments like this. He never knew what to say, how to say it. He was gonna sound like an idiot and push Seoul away in the process. So naturally, he asked an awkward question. "Can you see thestrals?" he asked. "The creatures that pull the carriages at the beginning of the school year. Can you? I..." he swallowed. "...I can." (01:11, January 2, 2019 (UTC))

PS "In third year, some older students invited me to go cliff-jumping with them. I don't know why... Maybe they thought I was cool or something. It was fine at first. But then the tide lowered. No one knew yet. We were in a line and a kid wanted to go before me so I let him 'cause I was scared shitless. The kid jumped." He froze, feeling like he was reliving the moment. He was 13, peering over the edge of the cliff. He was just in time to see the kid's panic as he realized he wasn't going to hit water, he was going to hit the ground. Siwoo knew what was going to happen but he couldn't tear his eyes away. He fell close enough that the ocean took his mangled corpse away, but not close enough to survive. He didn't die immediately, however. Siwoo heard his pained screams right before the kid died. The older kids, the one's who were supposed to know what to do, freaked and ran away. All 13 year old Siwoo could think about was that it could've been him. Not that the kid who died had a whole life ahead of him that he would never get to experience. Not that that kid didn't deserve to die. Not that this had been a terrible idea. That it could've been him. He couldn't sleep months after that. "There was a memorial service for him hosted by his parents," he said, seeming to fall out of his trance. He busied himself with the lion's mane, convinced he could distract himself from his guilt. "I befriended a thestral or two, actually. I'd show you them but you know... Hogwarts is closed." (04:11, January 2, 2019 (UTC))

PS "First thing we do when we get back," he decided. "We're meeting Lotarious and Coltor." He smiled, somewhat awkwardly and stepped back from the rock. It was nothing short of a masterpiece, of course, Siwoo wouldn't admit that. An abstractly drawn lion was opening its mouth to reveal its sharp teeth as it roared. Blood surrounded the lion like a second mane, lashing out in random patterns like squid tentacles attacking pray. "It was kind of hard to get the hang of the spraying... but it's kind of like actual painting. It's kind of relaxing," he said. "Now I see why you do this all the time." (06:28, January 2, 2019 (UTC))

PS "What?" he exclaimed, suddenly dejected despite his tone being playful. He glanced back at his work, simultaneously attempting to avoid Seoul's eyes. "I don't see it," he commented, which translated to, I need an excuse to hang out with you so don't you dare make me leave. "Besides," he paused, looking back up. Seoul's eyes were a hypnotizing shade of brown. "You still need to teach me the crests." (06:47, January 2, 2019 (UTC))

PS He made a face, pouting. "What's wrong with Gryffindor? You didn't have to sound so digusted," he pointed out. He watched Seoul pick up the paints and grinned uncontrollably. He knew he was going to drag this out as much as possible. If there was something Siwoo was good at, it was feigning stupidity. "Makes sense I guess. Slytherin, making a Slytherin crest... Green's a nice color. I'm almost kind of mad I'm not a Slytherin just because of the house colors." (07:08, January 2, 2019 (UTC))

PS "Yah, shut up," he complained, but truthfully he was enjoying seeing Seoul laugh. Even if it was kind of malicious. "You guys like to act like you're all scary and stuff but no one can resist Girl Scout cookies. I think I'd do just fine," he said. "Besides, the requirements of both houses are number one, be some variation of an ass. Whether it's a sneaky ass, dumbass, clever ass, valiant ass, you name it. Which means we're all assholes at heart. Isn't that nice?" Siwoo followed Seoul, ready to pretend to track his work when he'd really be tracking that beautiful face of his. "Background, very important. Got it. Rising sun, full circle, or half?" (07:30, January 2, 2019 (UTC))

PS "It's better than your dumbass snake," he remarked. "We'd choke it and play jump rope with it. Maybe if I got bored, it'd make a good fishing line. All that venom has to go to some use." He watched Seoul work with intrigue, watching the crest take shape. "Spray paint dies quickly," he commented. "With normal paint you'd have to be careful of mixing colors." (07:55, January 2, 2019 (UTC))

PS "I haven't screamed since I was six," he deadpanned. "Try me." He certainly didn't see the glint, or else he would've been more concerned. He kind of wanted to ask where Seoul got it but he was sure he'd find it on his own. Plus, he was starting to get an idea. A very, very mischievous idea that would either get him arrested, in a lot of trouble, both, or a date with Seoul. (16:17, January 2, 2019 (UTC))