- Messages
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- Wand
- Ivy Wand 13" Essence of Gargoyle Tooth
Have you ever run a knife across your bare skin, not hard enough to draw blood, just to see what it feels like? Did you ever hold that knife close to your neck, and wonder what would happen if you pressed just a little harder? And with that knife, did you ever stab a nearby table, trying to take out your anger and hatred on to something that wouldn't complain? Whenever that knife hit the table, making a terrible cracking noise, did you ever wonder what it would sound like if that knife was stabbing human flesh instead? Devlin Howard does that all of the time. A lot of people like to believe he was messed up, and that's what made him a little... different.
Opening his cold brown eyes Devlin realized something wasn't quite right. His auburn hair fell into his face messily. He fixed it before he sat up and looked around the room, which was anything, but familiar to him. His sixteen-year-old mind couldn't quite process where he was or why he was there. He was bored, and he needed to do something, fast. Turning his head a little, he saw a young boy probably younger than him by a few years. The boy had short copper red hair with hazel colored eyes and pale skin. He also had noticeable bags beneath his eyes. He looked so mismatched and so colorfully clothed that Devlin thought he could've been in a circus of some sort. He shuddered as he thought of clowns.
Devlin hated clowns.
They were creepy freaks in his personal judgment.
Devlin smiled slowly, eyes displaying little to no emotion as his lips tugged up in a dark smirk and held in place. Permanent humour masked his features like an amused cloak weaved out of lies and blood. Why was everything so d@mn funny these days? He chewed the band on his wrist, canines piercing holes into the rubber as he watched, the boy standing uncomfortably by the door, half-slumped leaning against the drawers, his mind began to tick; taking in ever line, feature, scar, and curve of the boys body. He registered his posture, the dazed rabbit look in his eyes, the way he tried to melt into the wall. He was intimidated by Devlin; good. His smirk grew wider when the said boy had run away from him, probably out of fear but he was disappointed as well, knowing that he had just lost a potential prey. "Stupid little weakling." He said, standing up as he looked out of the window of the room, which now that he had looked closely, was his last classroom for the day.
Opening his cold brown eyes Devlin realized something wasn't quite right. His auburn hair fell into his face messily. He fixed it before he sat up and looked around the room, which was anything, but familiar to him. His sixteen-year-old mind couldn't quite process where he was or why he was there. He was bored, and he needed to do something, fast. Turning his head a little, he saw a young boy probably younger than him by a few years. The boy had short copper red hair with hazel colored eyes and pale skin. He also had noticeable bags beneath his eyes. He looked so mismatched and so colorfully clothed that Devlin thought he could've been in a circus of some sort. He shuddered as he thought of clowns.
Devlin hated clowns.
They were creepy freaks in his personal judgment.
Devlin smiled slowly, eyes displaying little to no emotion as his lips tugged up in a dark smirk and held in place. Permanent humour masked his features like an amused cloak weaved out of lies and blood. Why was everything so d@mn funny these days? He chewed the band on his wrist, canines piercing holes into the rubber as he watched, the boy standing uncomfortably by the door, half-slumped leaning against the drawers, his mind began to tick; taking in ever line, feature, scar, and curve of the boys body. He registered his posture, the dazed rabbit look in his eyes, the way he tried to melt into the wall. He was intimidated by Devlin; good. His smirk grew wider when the said boy had run away from him, probably out of fear but he was disappointed as well, knowing that he had just lost a potential prey. "Stupid little weakling." He said, standing up as he looked out of the window of the room, which now that he had looked closely, was his last classroom for the day.