[log] i'm burning through the skies, yeah
Who: Grimmjow (shakethesound) and Szayel (thisnewvoodoo)
What: A midnight ride...again
When: MIDNIGHT WHAT DO YOU THINK
Where: The quidditch field lol.
Rating: PG-13 idk.
While once again, his surroundings had changed, taking his powers and real identity with it, Grimmjow found that he was adjusting rather easily this time around. Or maybe it was the castle that made him feel that way, but he didn't quite care. He was in a position of power, as Head Boy, and really, it was only a matter of time before he staked his claim upon Hogadisa by disposing of that rather senile headmaster. Somehow, he was sure that another he had served under had ... not been like his current leader in the slightest, but the feeling of dislike remained. but that was ridiculous. Grimmjow was a student, a student at Hogadisa. The Head Boy, in fact.
"Tch." Grunting discontentedly, Grimmjow sauntered down the hall carelessly, knowing that he couldn't get in trouble as he was Head Boy.
Szayel was extremely pleased with his position as Head Boy of Slytherin, as, in fact, he had roughly the same idea; he would use the students in his house to seize control of...something. Maybe another house. Maybe the house elves, somehow. Maybe the staircases; that was tactics.
When he wasn't thinking about all that, however, he'd decided to spend his time roaming the halls, looking for students to ream for breaking the rules, or not really breaking the rules, if they weren't in his house. As it happened, he was stalking the same corridor as Grimmjow, and when he saw someone approaching in the dark he stopped and said, "Who's there? No one is supposed to be out of the dorms at this hour!" He was so going to make whoever it was regret it.
Recognizing the obnoxious, nerdy voice of the Slytherin Head Boy, Grimmjow stopped in his tracks, sliding his hands into his pockets.
"Szayel. The hell are ya doin', walkin' around this late at night? Ya might get in trouble," he said, grinning through the darkness.
Grimmjow. Szayel relaxed--there was nothing he needed to (or could) do to another head boy, let alone one who was more powerful than him. For now, he added in his head. Hahaha.
"I certainly won't," he replied, smiling. "I'm looking for" trouble, and Grimmjow was an eyeful, "errant students; the same as you are, I imagine."
Not finding himself in the mood to continue conversation with the other Head Boy, Grimmjow simply grunted at him and walked right past, heading for the Quidditch field. It didn't matter if Szayel Aporro followed or not.
Logically, since Grimmjow had come from the direction that Szayel Aporro was heading, there probably wouldn't be anyone to find there, so it was pointless to continue on that path.
Of course, it was also pointless to turn around and go back the way he'd come from, but he was curious as to where Grimmjow was going, so he followed. "You're not going to find anyone this way, you know," he said.
"Like I give a fuck", he said, still walking. "That other girl," the Head Girl, to be exact -- he didn't care to remember her name, so Girl it was -- "Can do it on her own."
Was he really going to follow him all the way to the Quidditch field?
"Oh?" Szayel persisted, staying just a few steps behind. "Then where are you going, out of curiosity?"
Yes. Yes, he was. He had nothing better to do, that was all.
"Out to the Quidditch field," he replied shortly. Really, he didn't know why he even bothered. He quickened his pace a bit when they were nearing the field, taking longer strides.
Lies. Szayel had the hots for Grimmjow and he could feel it sizzling away. In the same way his hair had sizzled after the Headmaster had set his bed, and his journal, on fire.
Szayel matched his pace, smirking to himself for no particular reason other than being around Grimmjow made him feel like a natural woman smug most of the time, unless he was actually threatening to kill him, since he could.
"For what?" he asked, although he had a good idea.
"Ain't ya supposed t'be smart?"
Of course, Ravenclaw was the house reputed for its intelligence, but Grimmjow felt like Szayel was akin to some type of mad scientist. So he should be smart. ....
Trudging through the wet grass, he opened a random closet to pull out his broom, hopping onto it and soaring into the air, feeling like a wild panther. No, that wasn't right. Some great bird of prey. Yes, that was it.
Szayel scowled, somewhat offended at the notion of someone like Grimmjow questioning his intelligence, but he let it go (because Grimmjow could beat him up) and caught the closet door. There was no need to keep tagging along, but again, he had no reason to stay where he was, either. He reached in and grabbed his own broom to follow.
He looked over his shoulder back at the smaller, pink-haired boy, wondering if he even knew how the hell to fly a broom. He looked awfully off-balance and .. well, nerdy. Not that he cared. Grimmjow simply flew higher, enjoying the feeling of the wind in his hair.
Szayel did not, in fact, really know how to fly one. He was more of a butterfly than a bird of prey, you see, so he was much more accustomed to staying close to the ground and the flowers and what have you--but he couldn't make his weakness that obvious, so he followed Grimmjow anyway, putting on a burst of speed to catch up.
Naturally, as soon as he was just behind Grimmjow, he lost his balance and slid off his broom.
He knew it.
Grimmjow quickly grabbed at Szayel's robes in an effort to keep him from falling to the ground and bashing his skull in from over 450 feet in the air, as he was sure it would not reflect well upon him to have a Head Boy's dead body on his hands.
He dove towards the ground, Szayel's robes fisted in one hand, before he heard an ominous ripping noise with his perceptive, feline ears.
Rather than his life flashing before his eyes, Szayel saw nothing but a blur of sky and stars, but there was a sort of shocking, icy knowledge that if he hit the ground from that height he would really die--and then he suddenly stopped, and then there was a tearing noise, and then he was falling again, but just for a second.
He hit the ground just a few feet below Grimmjow, paler than normal and sporting a giant rip across the top of his robe, but otherwise unharmed.
He propped himself up on one elbow like it had all been a casual mistake that hadn't affected him at all. "That was unlucky," he decided, eyeing that rip in his robe with annoyance.
Easing himself off his broom with a sort of ~casual grace~, Grimmjow tried not to wonder why he was posing like that. On the grass. Bare shoulders and a bit of delicious flat chest.
"You're really goddamn annoyin', ya know that?" Picking him up by the robes again, Grimmjow threw him into the broom closet and kicked the door shut, locking it and pounding on it once for good measure.
He looked at his watch, and realized it was midnight. His midnight ride didn't go as planned, but hearing Szayel thrash around in the closet was almost enough to make up for it.
What: A midnight ride...again
When: MIDNIGHT WHAT DO YOU THINK
Where: The quidditch field lol.
Rating: PG-13 idk.
While once again, his surroundings had changed, taking his powers and real identity with it, Grimmjow found that he was adjusting rather easily this time around. Or maybe it was the castle that made him feel that way, but he didn't quite care. He was in a position of power, as Head Boy, and really, it was only a matter of time before he staked his claim upon Hogadisa by disposing of that rather senile headmaster. Somehow, he was sure that another he had served under had ... not been like his current leader in the slightest, but the feeling of dislike remained. but that was ridiculous. Grimmjow was a student, a student at Hogadisa. The Head Boy, in fact.
"Tch." Grunting discontentedly, Grimmjow sauntered down the hall carelessly, knowing that he couldn't get in trouble as he was Head Boy.
Szayel was extremely pleased with his position as Head Boy of Slytherin, as, in fact, he had roughly the same idea; he would use the students in his house to seize control of...something. Maybe another house. Maybe the house elves, somehow. Maybe the staircases; that was tactics.
When he wasn't thinking about all that, however, he'd decided to spend his time roaming the halls, looking for students to ream for breaking the rules, or not really breaking the rules, if they weren't in his house. As it happened, he was stalking the same corridor as Grimmjow, and when he saw someone approaching in the dark he stopped and said, "Who's there? No one is supposed to be out of the dorms at this hour!" He was so going to make whoever it was regret it.
Recognizing the obnoxious, nerdy voice of the Slytherin Head Boy, Grimmjow stopped in his tracks, sliding his hands into his pockets.
"Szayel. The hell are ya doin', walkin' around this late at night? Ya might get in trouble," he said, grinning through the darkness.
Grimmjow. Szayel relaxed--there was nothing he needed to (or could) do to another head boy, let alone one who was more powerful than him. For now, he added in his head. Hahaha.
"I certainly won't," he replied, smiling. "I'm looking for" trouble, and Grimmjow was an eyeful, "errant students; the same as you are, I imagine."
Not finding himself in the mood to continue conversation with the other Head Boy, Grimmjow simply grunted at him and walked right past, heading for the Quidditch field. It didn't matter if Szayel Aporro followed or not.
Logically, since Grimmjow had come from the direction that Szayel Aporro was heading, there probably wouldn't be anyone to find there, so it was pointless to continue on that path.
Of course, it was also pointless to turn around and go back the way he'd come from, but he was curious as to where Grimmjow was going, so he followed. "You're not going to find anyone this way, you know," he said.
"Like I give a fuck", he said, still walking. "That other girl," the Head Girl, to be exact -- he didn't care to remember her name, so Girl it was -- "Can do it on her own."
Was he really going to follow him all the way to the Quidditch field?
"Oh?" Szayel persisted, staying just a few steps behind. "Then where are you going, out of curiosity?"
Yes. Yes, he was. He had nothing better to do, that was all.
"Out to the Quidditch field," he replied shortly. Really, he didn't know why he even bothered. He quickened his pace a bit when they were nearing the field, taking longer strides.
Lies. Szayel had the hots for Grimmjow and he could feel it sizzling away. In the same way his hair had sizzled after the Headmaster had set his bed, and his journal, on fire.
Szayel matched his pace, smirking to himself for no particular reason other than being around Grimmjow made him feel like a natural woman smug most of the time, unless he was actually threatening to kill him, since he could.
"For what?" he asked, although he had a good idea.
"Ain't ya supposed t'be smart?"
Of course, Ravenclaw was the house reputed for its intelligence, but Grimmjow felt like Szayel was akin to some type of mad scientist. So he should be smart. ....
Trudging through the wet grass, he opened a random closet to pull out his broom, hopping onto it and soaring into the air, feeling like a wild panther. No, that wasn't right. Some great bird of prey. Yes, that was it.
Szayel scowled, somewhat offended at the notion of someone like Grimmjow questioning his intelligence, but he let it go (because Grimmjow could beat him up) and caught the closet door. There was no need to keep tagging along, but again, he had no reason to stay where he was, either. He reached in and grabbed his own broom to follow.
He looked over his shoulder back at the smaller, pink-haired boy, wondering if he even knew how the hell to fly a broom. He looked awfully off-balance and .. well, nerdy. Not that he cared. Grimmjow simply flew higher, enjoying the feeling of the wind in his hair.
Szayel did not, in fact, really know how to fly one. He was more of a butterfly than a bird of prey, you see, so he was much more accustomed to staying close to the ground and the flowers and what have you--but he couldn't make his weakness that obvious, so he followed Grimmjow anyway, putting on a burst of speed to catch up.
Naturally, as soon as he was just behind Grimmjow, he lost his balance and slid off his broom.
He knew it.
Grimmjow quickly grabbed at Szayel's robes in an effort to keep him from falling to the ground and bashing his skull in from over 450 feet in the air, as he was sure it would not reflect well upon him to have a Head Boy's dead body on his hands.
He dove towards the ground, Szayel's robes fisted in one hand, before he heard an ominous ripping noise with his perceptive, feline ears.
Rather than his life flashing before his eyes, Szayel saw nothing but a blur of sky and stars, but there was a sort of shocking, icy knowledge that if he hit the ground from that height he would really die--and then he suddenly stopped, and then there was a tearing noise, and then he was falling again, but just for a second.
He hit the ground just a few feet below Grimmjow, paler than normal and sporting a giant rip across the top of his robe, but otherwise unharmed.
He propped himself up on one elbow like it had all been a casual mistake that hadn't affected him at all. "That was unlucky," he decided, eyeing that rip in his robe with annoyance.
Easing himself off his broom with a sort of ~casual grace~, Grimmjow tried not to wonder why he was posing like that. On the grass. Bare shoulders and a bit of delicious flat chest.
"You're really goddamn annoyin', ya know that?" Picking him up by the robes again, Grimmjow threw him into the broom closet and kicked the door shut, locking it and pounding on it once for good measure.
He looked at his watch, and realized it was midnight. His midnight ride didn't go as planned, but hearing Szayel thrash around in the closet was almost enough to make up for it.