Help One Another

[Stefan Archer]

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<SIZE size="50">He'd left school merely one month, and it hadn't exactly been easy. He spent most of his time wondering around. Heading from place to place, sleeping in dark alleyways and doorways. Spending very little time in any one place. Eating when he could, avoiding people who would ask questions as much as possible. It wasn't easy. Even the now ex-Slytherin realize that his life really couldn't get much worse. He spent a lot of his time now just thinking about how he might've just made a very huge mistake. How the simple factor of him leaving school was maybe not the best decision he'd made. He was just glad the he was in the summer months. That things weren't too cold on a day to day basis. He could be glad that he wouldn't freeze to death. Not quite yet. The nights weren't exactly the best, but they were better than they could be. It had helped him feel a lot more alive, he figured that living day to day off whatever he could find would do that to a person. His life was in his own hands. If he stopped, if he just gave up he'd very quickly lose, and the teen didn't exactly like thinking of his life a game. It had been his father's job to do such a thing. Anything to with his father was something he'd much rather avoid. Which was why he really hated this more than anything. He could just hear his father in the background call him all names. Saying that it was no wonder he'd ended up in this kind of life. That it was truly no wonder that he was less than nothing. No more than a stray dog on the streets. His father had always threatened to throw him out, always said that he would become nothing. Not that he'd been given too much of a chance. His hand in life had been of terrible cards delivered slowly, but one after another. This was the first that had been more Stefan's choice that anyone else's. He'd made the final decision, the decision that had taken him out of the school he'd once felt safe in. A school he had once believed would solve all his issues, the school that had been their when he'd needed it most. When at eleven years old he was just beginning to become very tired and fed up of his life. When the tears that had gotten him too sleep had just been too much to handle. The school had give him a reason, a purpose. A way out of the life that he'd been leading up until that very point. However, as the song said, even the sun sets in paradise. It had been a brutal end to his paradise, a door slamming in his face. But, it wasn't even the worse of it, he didn't know how he was going to make it. Things in his life had never been this uncertain. He half considered going back to the foster care that had left bruised and beaten. Like all other adults in his life that had been made to be his guardian. He couldn't return to that, he couldn't return to school. He was very quickly running low on places he could turn to. Even though he'd never really had anywhere to go before. His home life hadn't been something he'd ever felt the need to run back to. But, this was his decision. His choice. Despite all the struggles it was giving him, he was a little glad for the freedom. It wasn't maybe the best freedom to have, but it was better than nothing.

A small bag on his back was all he had, it contained all his clothes and anything he would need. It wasn't a lot. The colourblind teen didn't own much. He didn't have much money. He didn't have much of anything. Just the smallest hope that it would all work out. The smallest hope that surely his life couldn't get much worse than it was already. Apart from maybe dying there was nothing else that could be worse than how he was there and then. And he was still very glad to be alive. Obsidian Harbour wasn't a place the teen visited often. He stayed away from places with wizards, and people who might know him. Who might be from school. Mostly he was just avoiding Kate, or the possibility of running into her. Kate was on his mind everyday. Every second not spared to finding food or shelter. She was still the light in his life. The perfect person that he loved. The perfect person that he hoped one day he'd be able to return to, even if it was many years down the line. Even if she'd then moved on. Even if it was only to apologize. He just wanted to say how sorry he was to her. But, he couldn't. He thought of her everyday. He wanted to go back to her. He wanted to see her smile, and hear her laugh. He just didn't want to have his world torn apart by either her leaving, or in any other way. She made him smile. She was the only person he could feel safe with. But, all good things come to an end. Even the sun sets in paradise after all. He was walking aimlessly around the streets, feeling people's eyes on him as he did so. He could imagine that he didn't look too good. He hadn't slept very well in the past few days, and he hadn't eaten properly in a little while. Small snacks and such was all he'd eaten in a while. Stefan pulled the jumper closer to him. Not really cold but feeling a little self-conscious, desperately hoping to blend in with the background. Desperately wanting to just find somewhere to sit, and rest for just a little moment. But, he couldn't see any areas where people weren't also there. It wasn't like he wanted to rest in front of lots of people and not be arrested and sent back to foster care. But, soon, he didn't have much of a choice. He spotted a bench just on the entrance to the main street. Empty, and close to him. He walked the final few steps and then collapsed tiredly onto the bench. He took a deep breath and looked out at the street. He pulled off his bag and put it down beside on the bench. He looked out and found himself smiling slightly. The air was warm, but not too warm. There were birds chirping in the background. There was the low buzz of conversation from all around him. The sun was high in the sky, with a few clouds floating around, never blocking the sun's light. It was beautiful, even though to Stefan it was black and white, it was beautiful. There was no other way of describing it. Stefan thought the world was beautiful. It was one of the reasons he fought so hard to get a normal life. It was the reason why he would always fight hard. Fight for his life, because he'd not seen all the amazing world had to offer him. Tomorrow might not be better than this day, but in a week, in a month, in a year however long it took, Stefan knew it would get better, and he wanted to see it.

On this bench, he was just glancing around himself. Looking, and feeling pretty hungry as he just sat alone. It was lonely, traveling around. Not staying in the same place meant, that Stefan hadn't had a real conversation in over a month, and while this didn't hugely bother him, he was a little tired and he was feeling a little lonely. Although getting attached to people or places wasn't exactly something he could do. Now, more than ever he realized how little he could actually do while feeling like this. It wasn't as easy as just being in school. It was hard. It wasn't like before. He was pretty happy to just ignore the world. He was happy being alone, but being at school had gotten him accustom to having at least one person to talk to. Being around others and being able to enjoy the world alone but while being surrounded by others. He was feeling a little more than a little lonely. Which was half why he'd walked himself to a familiar place, the hope to run into someone he might know. Someone that would talk to him, even if it was only for a few minutes. Stefan was human after all, even someone like him needed a little company from time to time.
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[Javarius Askolov]

Out of Character:

I will try to keep up with you Emzies.

Javarius had suvived on the streets for several months. He survived on the streets. He did not see what he did as living on the streets. He would barely make it on the streets, but it was his decision to drop out, so it was basically his fault for his current situation. He was not complaining though. It was nice to feel like a free spirit. He was not being held back by school or adoptive parents. The downside was that he did not know if he was going to eat everyday. A few weeks ago he almost got killed by Chyou's boyfriend. He had managed to get away with his life. He hoped that he would never encounter Chyou again. The two had met at Durmstrang, but they were not 'friends' persay. It was more like they tolerated each other. He never knew that she had a she had a killer boyfriend, literally.

It was an especially sunny day. Javar had no problem with that. He could probably get a tan. His clothes were not drowned in dirt anymore. He had gotten them cleaned, and his hair was now back to it's golden blonde color. It was no longer filled with dirt and who knows what. He still had no backpack, but he did have his wand which was all he needed. He could not use magic, so he was having a bit of trouble adjusting to a muggle life for now. He did not have any plans for a career, and he did not even know if would ever go back to school. Javar walked with the hood to his glray hoodie up, and his hands were stuffed in his jeans pockets. He had been walking aimlessly for awhile, and he thought it was about time he took a seat somewhere. He saw a bench as soon as he turned on the main street. There was another person sitting on the bench, so he sat down on the cement. He did not want to make any eye contact with the boy already sitting there. He did not want to grow any connections.

 

[Stefan Archer]

Out of Character:

Don't worry about keeping up!

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<SIZE size="50">Surviving was the operative word when living on the streets.Living day to day. Going back to what would be seen as the most primitive way of living. It was what most people avoided at all costs, but this teen couldn't help but feel that he had almost asked for it. That he had done something that meant he deserved it. Well, he'd made the decision to run, but more in the sense of everything he'd done leading up to that point was so he could return to a life he'd pretty much hated. During the winter break between fourth and fifth year the ex-slytherin had been living around. He hadn't been able to handle going back to a place that had treated him worse than his own home. It was also that it just felt worse. He couldn't understand why people wanted to treat him in such a way. They didn't know him, they hadn't bothered to get to know him. They'd just seen him as another part of the furniture that they could just throw around. That even to these adults who'd never met him before he'd been disposable. It had been the same at muggle school. The kids had been vicious mostly because a lot of the work they did, he didn't how to do. Stefan wasn't stupid, but he didn't have much of a chance if he'd never been to a school that taught muggle subjects, like english and maths. Sciences. He knew nothing of them, and everyone else had. It had been miserable. He'd been miserable, and while this really isn't anything new living with those people had made him feel more miserable that he had at any other point. It was why he'd run, and gotten a flavor for running. For taking what he had left and just leaving. He didn't really have much, he had very little to lose. Leaving Kate was really the only thing he regretted. He just had to keep her out of his mind. Keep her beautiful face out of his mind was easier said than done, but he had to, or he would drive himself insane over her and how much of an as5 he'd been to her. He was running a big risk, being back in a familiar place. It wasn't really something he did often. It wasn't something he really wanted to do. It was hard to keep hidden be sure that no one whom he saw went to Hogwarts. He wasn't worried, he just didn't want people seeing him in such a state. It wasn't like hadn't tried to keep it a secret. It was easy enough to, but today, of all days he'd been feeling lonely, and had just wanted to be somewhere he knew with the possibility of seeing people he knew. He didn't have to know them well, just familiar people that he might've cared about once. That was maybe very few people, but it was still something that the colourblind teen held on to.

A loud grumbling sound from the teen's stomach made he feel pretty embarrassed. He was hungry. he was always hungry. It wasn't hard, the first few days he'd rationed what he'd taken with him from Hogwarts Kitchen, but that food had only lasted so far. It had only gone to some meals. Most of it, had been edible days, after being taken, and others weren't so much, but Stefan hadn't really minded. Well, up until he'd been sick at the side of the road from bad food. Those kind of happenings were just a side effect. Now, his stomach was truly empty. It had literally nothing in it. He hadn't eaten in about twenty four hours, and he was fairly sure that it would be another few before he found anything to eat. Despite knowing this, a part of the ex-slytherin really did hope that within his bag was some form of food. Something, anything. He opened it, and when he did out of the corner of his eyes he noticed a boy sitting on the pavement. He ignored it. The boy didn't look familiar. And he was sure, even if the kid had gone to Hogwarts he wouldn't remember Stefan Archer. Even if Rumor Has It, had put a picture of him along with an article about his home life. That had maybe put him on the map a little more, but he seriously doubted the teen close to him would realize that. Even with those thought running through his brain, he began to look in his bag. For the colourblind teen, just looking was pretty hard. He had to take this out so he could properly see, the inside of the bag was dark, and with his eye sight, it was impossible to see what he actually wanted to see. Which was the sole reason why he proceed to take out his few clothes, and place them beside him on the bench. A thought then occurred to him. "The bench in more comfortable." He said, briefly looking up in the direction of the other teen, before he looked back at his bag. Much to his dismay, he could clearly see he had nothing. Just clothes that were pretty dirty, a sort of blanket, and a few other possessions that he'd acquired over the years. His entire worldly possessions fitting into one small rucksack, now that was something to be miserable over. Sure, his father even when he'd been alive hadn't had much money, and the foster family had more money, but weren't about to give it away to some wayward teen who "needed sense beaten into him". Stefan didn't have much luck at all, it was seriously reflected on the amount stuff he owned and the amount of scars that the boy had. The amount of stories he could tell that would make most others worst nightmares look like dreams with butterflies. The most thing was, he truly believed it sometimes. That he was nothing, and that he deserved to have sense and purpose beaten into him. It was why he even considered going back to foster care. When his stomach rumbled again loudly the teen proceed to place everything back into his bag and just once again, try to enjoy the day.
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[Javarius Askolov]

Javarius shrugged. So what if the bench was more comfortable? He would rather sit on the ground than next to a stranger. He did not want to call too much attention to himself, but he proabably had made himself look weird by not sitting on the bench. Hence the stranger talked to him and gave him attention. Javar was basically asking for attention. He had become so lonely on the streets. It was so hard surviving as a underage, teenage and homeless wizard. No one understood it unless they had or are living like one. There were many statistics on a percentage of homeless people there are. Every year the number seemed to change. Javar suddden felt cold, really cold. Maybe he was too busy thinking he did not notice how cold he really was. The feeling hit him like a punch that landed straight on his heart. Javarius hugged his knees close to his chest. He turned his head towards the teenager on the bench. He had heard a growl come from his direction. He must be hungry. Sadly, Javar had no food either. Maybe he could eat at a super fancy resturant, eat and then run away. Not only would that get him something to eat, but it would be hilarious. He saw the teen put some clothes in his bag. Was he homeless too? Hogwarts New Zealand was not out yet, but the boy could just be a homeless muggle. Muggle schools were not out either. "Are you going on a vacation with that?" he asked and motioned his head to the bag the teenager had. He did not mean it to be funny. Javar would have came straight out and asked the boy if he was living surviving on the streets, but he did not want to insult the boy. Just in case it turned out to be that he was not.

 

[Stefan Archer]

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<SIZE size="50">There wasn't much that Stefan wouldn't do for money. For food, for shelter for the night. It was a day to day struggle, but still there were many parts of him that didn't regret his decision. This was for the best, there was no it wouldn't be. He wanted it to so badly mean something. He wanted this to mean more than a scared kid leaving the school on a wimp. Of course, if he thought hard about it, it was exactly that. He was a scared teen. He hadn't known what to do, and what he thought was just a kid doing what he knew was right, it was more a kid who'd panicked. He had kept his wand on him, he'd often just held it in his hand. The words, you could just return. You could just go back. You could wake up one morning and just go back. It wouldn't be hard, surely. They'd welcomed him back each time he'd been away. He didn't really want to make a habit of it, but it wasn't like he couldn't. Here he was, sitting on a bench in the middle of the wizarding harbor with nothing to eat. His stomach rumbling loudly. He had no shelter and the summer would soon end and the winter would begin. He knew from experience that the winters while not as harsh as they could be were still not the kindest. And not having a roof over his head would make it all the more difficult. Winter was his least favorite season by far, no matter how hard he tried to like it, the snow, the silence, he just didn't like it. It was the cold bitterness he'd always felt in his father. It was the feeling of emptiness and hunger that had plagued him all of his life. Not that summer was too much better, in certain times of the day, the colourblind teen found it difficult to see. Needing to stay out of the sun and just hoping he didn't walk into anyone or anything.

Glancing round at the other teen, Stefan cast his gaze down the ground. Feeling that warmth in his cheeks, that indicated that he was embarrassed. He had learned to not care about what people thought, about not think how little they thought of him, but those words. The simplest idea that he was on vacation brought back the realization of how real his situation was, of how he really was a teen on the sun. Hiding and living in the most dyer conditions. Of course, it really wasn't that much better than before. Being beaten almost everyday had not been fun. And oddly enough whenever Stefan thought about it he was glad of decision. He was doing something for himself. He was doing something for him alone. There was no commitment. There were no friends to explain what had happened. Why he was so thin, why he had yet more bruises. Nothing seemed to really work out for him, this was all he had left, and it really wasn't much. "Not really" Stefan mumbled, looking away and to the pile of clothes he'd begun placing back into his bag. There wasn't much, he didn't have much. He had so very little that it was almost laughable, but this was in some respects a sort of vacation. He was going away for a length of time, the only difference, he didn't have anywhere to eventually return to. It was literally the long and short of it. He wondered why the guy had asked him that. Maybe they were on the same boat. It wouldn't really surprise him, he was almost hoping for it. Maybe he could have someone to talk to. Someone who knew what it was like, who knew the cold, the feeling of hunger that was ever present. "You?"

Sorry it's so terrible, I'm getting readjusted! Also, apologies for the wait, was away
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[Javarius Askolov]

Javarius laughed. What could he possibly go on a vacation with? He had nothing. Just a wand and the clothes on his body. If homelessness was considered a vacation then he had been on one long vacation. "I have nothing to go on a vacation with." he smiled up at the boy. He stood up and sat on the bench, but he made sure he was nowhere near close to the boy. "I'm Javar." he introduced himself. If Javar never saw this kid again it would not matter to him. If the boy ended up trying to look for him then he would not be looking blindly. He had nothing to offer this boy.

Why would he come looking for him? It was not like he was worth anything. Javar was disposable. His mother taught him that. "Are you staying on the streets?" he asked eyeing the boy curiously. He could tell now. He was thin and looked a bit nervous. Javarius had been the same way, but he had gotten over it soon. Javar was too carefree to hold onto something long. Unless it was his mother abandoning him. Javar sighed. Thinking of his mother made him feel cold.

 

[Stefan Archer]

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<SIZE size="50">There was a liberty that followed by being on the street. If things got to be too much, running was could be done. You could just get up and walk away. It basically the whole idea at times. Obviously, Stefan had been left with no family. He'd been left with nothing. He'd been without everything for so long that this was little different from his previous life. This was different in the sense that he was able to do so much more. Well,that was arguable, but at least he wasn't being beaten every other day which was a staggeringly great improvement from before. Sure, Stefan had always known that it would eventually ended. But there was no telling it he'd have lived to see that day, after all his father's last act was to kill him. Well, he'd called the emergency services, but the teen disregarded this along with the claim that he was lucky to have made it. He was lucky, but he had been lucky to have been free. Lucky to have been able to live to see any of the days that had followed. Any of the horrific things that his father had done. Things that filled his nightmares. The memories of his friend no longer enough to keep the memories at bay. So, each time things got to be too much. Stefan would gather up his things and move on, move to the next village, the next little area. Somehow never managing to draw enough attention to himself to alert anyone. That and since when did people openly look at teens and think, oh they must be homeless. However, with this kid, this guy sitting metres from him, he felt a little more comfortable than before. He knew it was just the lack of human contact was finally getting to him. Even while with his father, he'd seen him often. It hadn't been much, it hadn't been good, but it was contact. It had been a while since he'd ever spent more than a few seconds with someone his own age. Stefan shrugged slightly at his answer, Stefan had actually never been on "vacation". He'd never really been anywhere until now. They hadn't had money, it had never been an option for the Archer's. He watched the other teen carefully as he came and sat next to him on the bench. Introducing himself as Javar. Stefan looked at the guy and then down at his hands, he had nothing left to lose at this point, what would be the harm in introducing himself to this guy. The chances they'd never run into each other ever again,

"Stefan" Stefan looked up at Javar, feeling that pleasantries he'd learnt at school would not matter much. There was little point in shaking hands, or saying how pleased they were to meet each other. It was those little things that only mattered in places like Hogwarts. In places with people who had plans to settle and create a place for themselves in the world. Stefan had never really been a part of the world, magical or muggle. Always the outsider. Always the one no one really took much notice. Well, the magazine at Hogwarts had taken notice in him, but for all the wrong reasons. The second question took Stefan a little by surprise, he knew he probably looked like he did, but the bluntness was so new. Stefan had always thought people treaded carefully around him, the bruises and quietness of the boy had meant people tended to, without generally noticing, treat him differently. The bluntness made him smile slightly, it was new. "Yeah." There was no point in lying about it, it was pretty obvious. He didn't have a better answer for why he had a bag of things, looked pretty scruffy, and tired than the real one. Plus, he couldn't help but think that he really had nothing left to lose at this point. Which was a pretty sad fact. But it was the truth. He had nothing left to lose, so what harm did it do being honest with someone at this point. The kid didn't look like he had connections to social services, he seemed just as harmless as Stefan was. Maybe not as harmless, but not like he could do anything to worsen Stefan's life. It occurred to him then that this guy, Javar looked almost like he was in the same situation as he was. How he'd answered the question. "You?" It didn't occur to Stefan how personal the question could be, because he was didn't mean this other teen was, but, it didn't matter to him. After today he'd more than likely never see the teen again. He'd never run into him again. It also didn't actually mean that the two of them would actually make it through whatever period of their life had lead them to, this. After who would happily take this style of life over others. "Some vacation, huh."
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[Javarius Askolov]

Javarius understood where Stefan was in his life right now, when it was concerning being on the streets. He was sure that Stefan was lonely and not able to count on anyone. He was alone, and Javar was sure that Stefan had been through a lot too. He thought Stefan was an interesting name. Javar, however, did not know where his mother got his name from. Javarius. What kind of name was that? Lestrange was his adoptive parents surname. He did not remember his original surname. His adoptive parents had forced him to take on their surname and forget his original. He was slapped and kicked around until he almost forgot his mother's face and most of his chilhood before he turned six or seven. However how old he was when the Lestrange's adopted him. It was hard for Javar to think about his adoptive parents. He had gone through so much abuse with them. He would never be able to call anyone else 'mother' or 'father'. He felt he would betray his realparents by doing so. He just hoped thatthe next person that took him in, if he allowed them to, would be good to him. He had started to feel lonely. It was not like he did not want to have a family. It was just that he did not want to get hurt again. Javar started to twiddle with his thumbs.

Javar nodded. He found it to be obvious if he was able to tell Stefan was on the streets. "Yep. I ran away all the way from Australia. My adoptive parents weren't very nice." he told Stefan while looking down in his lap. If he made eye contact he surely would cry. Why was he telling Stefan this? It escaped him why he was telling Stefan so personal. He did not even get that far with Chyou. He hoped he never ran into her again. Her killer boyfriend would probably follow her and kill him. Javar did enjoy life even though he was homeless. Javar chuckled. Vacation? It was more like a horrid reality. He was not going to tell Stefan that though. He did not want to drive a potential average friend away. He tended to do that. He was used to driving people away from him, but he was trying to change. As Stefan was still here. "I wish this were a vacation, dude."

 

[Stefan Archer]

The simple fact of the matter was that the former Slytherin didn’t actually know what he was doing. When it came down to it, he was just wandering around. His life had lead to this. A drifter, moving with the wind, never making much of a different, always an annoyance. He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to Javar in his life to lead him into this kind of situation. Stefan knew his reasons, he knew what had lead to it, but he would feel awful if this guy too had similar reasons. Much more because, Stefan hated when other people suffered what he had. It wasn’t fair on them. At times it didn’t even occur to him that it wasn’t fair on him. He hadn’t been given much of a chance in life. It was the bottom line of it. He was a teen with nothing to show for his life. All he had were dead parents, and foster parents who he was sure hadn’t even noticed he was gone. Stefan had meant so little to those people, it was hard to shake the feelings of uselessness from his mind after them. He couldn’t understand, how those people had been able to take in kids from broken homes. Stefan thought it was a serious flaw in the system. That it wasn’t properly looked into. Stefan was the result of a bad placement. If it had been a family who cared, he was sure he would have a home. But, now there was no way he was ever going back to one of those homes. Adoption, foster care. They were not things he wanted to think about it. But then if Javar was the same, Stefan wouldn’t know how to ask. Wouldn’t know how to phrase it, or if he could admit that he’d suffered the same. Stefan was too embarrassed by it. He was an Archer, he was meant to be strong, powerful. And yet he’d let many bad things happen to him. It embarrassed him to no end. However, being without a home, embarrassed him a lot less. Stefan looked at javar as he said he was from Australia. Stefan did not even know where that was exactly. He didn’t know how far it was from them. He knew it was close, just not how far. Stefan wasn’t smart when it came to things like that. After all he’d never been to school before hogwarts. His ears did perk up at the next thing he said, adoptive parents weren’t very nice. Well, maybe they were floating in a familiar similar boat.

Stefan knew he could’ve taken that chance to say anything to show that he knew how it felt. That he knew what it was like to have supposed parents not be very nice. He’d lived it, everyday. It had been one bad thing after the other in his life with his father, nothing he could was ever right, nothing was ever good enough. He’d been a waste of space according to his father, and this helped to prove it, he couldn’t even to admit to someone he’d never meet again that things had been similar for him. stefan scoffed slightly. ”Well, I’ve never actually been on vacation before, so, me too.” Stefan smiled slightly, a small slightly forced smile. ”Never had much money growing up, was never an option. Plus, I can’t see very well, a vacation would be lost on me.” Stefan knew that even if they’d had the money, they would’ve never gone. His father hated him too much to have wanted to give him a good time. That and being surrounded by lots of people would not have given the liberty to act as he would’ve wanted. His father wouldn’t want to risk being caught in public hitting him. Well, he hadn’t at one point. Over time, his father had changed and gotten worse. Stefan was sure that much longer and it would’ve been noticed by someone. ”how long?” Stefan was new to this, he wasn’t used to being honest with people, so it was understandable that he struggled to be honest with someone like Javar. As much as his mind told him, that he had nothing to lose by being honest. Time, was all the colourblind teen needed.
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[Javarius Askolov]

"You don't see well? What's up with your eyes?" Javar asked curiously. He did not want to be rude. Sometimes his questions came out quite blunt. He was sometimes insensitive, but he really did not mean to be. He was quite naive sometimes. "Sorry. I don't mean to be rude." he said in case Stefan got frustrated with him. Javar sighed. He did not know the exact amount of time he spent with his adoptive parents. It was hard to think about. He ran away so he wouldn't have to think about his adoptive parents. There would days when he would be locked in his room and other days they would spoil him with gifts. Javar was not able to accept that he had been abandoned at that time. He refused all care and gifts they offered him He was scared of them anyways, all he wanted was out of their lives. "I was with the 'rents for about 10-11 years. I ran away until they kicked me out. Then I dropped out too." she said and he ran a nervous hand through his hair. Javar had started to tap his feet.

Sorry for the suckish reply.

 

[Stefan Archer]

Stefan shrugged to the boy, he didn’t really want to talk about the colorblindness, but considering he brought it up, it was like he’d dug himself in. He’d brought it up and he needed to ask for it. ”I can’t see color, so bright days are too bright, and everything is sort of blurry. A little out of focus. I had contacts for a while, but replacing them cost money,” Stefan shrugged again keeping his eyes on the floor. It had been an odd day, the day he’d had contacts. He’d worn them up until they’d weren’t making any difference. Mostly because they’d been so old. Stefan had been just eight when he’d gotten them for the first time. It was something he scarcely brought up because in all honesty he missed the time he could see things a little better. Stefan now had to put up with terrible vision know how it could possibly be better. It was the main reason why he hadn’t told anyone about the colorblindness, well the school nurses, or doctors. If it didn’t work for as long as they hoped, if something went wrong and he completely lost his eye sight. Those were the small risks that the former slytherin was just not willing to make. His eye sight was poor enough already and he didn’t want to make it worse. He also had no desire to see color if it were only for a short space of time. How the other half live. He didn’t want that. If he say all the color he knew going back to his current eye sight would be too hard. So, all in all he just was never going to see color, or completely understand the real concept of what color was. It made things very difficult for the teen. It had angered his father, though there was no real reason too, his eye sight was out of Stefan’s control he could literally do nothing about it. He had literally done nothing to cause it. At least with his father hitting him, half the time his father could say that he did something to deserve it. Action and reaction type situation. He knew that the other boy probably wouldn’t completely understand it, Stefan knew that most people didn’t understand his reluctance to get his eyes changed. To see someone but they had no idea what it was like. No idea how hard it was being visually impaired in such a fashion. It had always made things like herbology and potions hard. He didn’t see the green light from when the professor in Defense Against the Dark Arts had killed the spider. The sad thing being that if Stefan was to be killed by the killing curse, he wouldn’t even realize it. Most would see green and maybe understand, Stefan would see nothing apart from a streak of light that resembled all spells cast.

”Makes things difficult when finding stuff to eat” The problem had occurred to him when he’d eaten what he thought was an apple and had turned out to be a mishapened ball. Not something he wanted to repeat. But, it was hard to not with his eye sight. ”It’s okay to ask about it, I’ve always had it. Bothers me less than it once did.” Stefan had no idea why he was talking to this boy, why he was saying this much. Sure it was about eye sight, but he tended to not really talk about that unless someone directly asked any question, not like in this case where the question was strictly speaking more general. Listening as he spoke of how he came to leave his house. He didn’t really want to talk about it. He couldn’t. However bad Javar’s life had been up to this point, Stefan didn’t want to mention his. After all what if Stefan’s own life was worse and the other boy had gotten afraid, or just weirded out. If he believed that Stefan had deserved what he’d been given. A part of Stefan was sure this wasn’t true, but he just met the kid and he wasn’t really that willing to spill. Stefan’s life was a tangled mess. ”Sounds bad. I had a pretty similar experience.” Stefan looked at the boy, who seemed nervous. He couldn’t help but agree talking about family made him nervous. The entire situation that the two were in made him nervous. More nervous than he ever cared to say. ”Better off on our own.” Stefan mumbled before falling silent. How did two teens with nothing proceed on. Would parting ways really help either of them. Stefan liked talking to someone. He did missing having some company. He’d spent so much time alone before school that he knew this should be easier for him, but it really wasn’t. He was better off. Stefan knew this, but that didn’t make the little things easier. It didn’t make knowing he’d be without food for another little while easier. It didn’t make accepting that he truly had no home any more any easier. But, he was happier. Surprisingly happier.
​

 

[Javarius Askolov]

Javarius felt sorry for Stefan a little bit. He would not know what to do with himself if he couldn't seee his favorite colors. It made him appreciate what he already had. At least Stefan could see some things. Javar could only imagine what it was like being colorblind. His favorite colors were purple and pink. He was sometimes teased about his favorite colors, but he did not mind. He wore pink proudly while others guys feared of being judged as gay if they wore it. People could think what they wanted of him. He did not care. He was not going to let people's opinions and judgments rule his life. Javar did not like others having power over him. Which was the reason he did not get along with professors or authority figures of any kind. He was difficult most of the time, but as his lonliness got worse his drive to push people away became weaker. Especially with the adults he used to live with. Coming from an abusive family did horrible things to a child's personality. "How many fingers am I holding up?" Javar held out four fingers. He did not shove his hand in Stefan's face. He did not know what Stefan's boundaries were. He was not going to take any chances that would run the boy off. Javar was curious as to how blurry Stefan's vision was. He did not want him bumping into a gang member and getting himself killed. He did not see Stefan as a helpless colorblind person. Javar just saw him as someone that needed a little extra care. People with disablities were always seen as helpless, but he knew that Stefan was not.

Javar felt words start to flow into his head. Lyrics. While at Durmstrang he wrote songs. He used to always have paper with him just in case words started to flow into his head, like now. Sometimes the words would come out in a huge jumble on the paper, but Javar always was able to rearrange them into a awesome song. Times like this were one of the few times he regreted dropping out of school. He missed being able to write down the words in his head. "Does that mean you can get food and objects mixed up?" he looked at Stefan. If he could get food and objects mixed up then he could eat a marble and think it was a grape. For a moment the thought was funny to Javar, but then he realized how bad that could be. Stefan dying was something that he did not want to think about. Death of any sort freaked Javar out. "You don't happen to have any paper, do you?" he asked. It was worth a try. The words were making it hard for him to think. He was engaging in a conversation and he did not want to make Stefan upset by looking like he was not paying attention. Javar nodded in agreement. He was better off on his own. He only had another year left and he was going to be 17. He was able to fend for himself until then. "Yeah. Who needs parents?" he said in agreement. He would have announced to the whole street that no one needed parents, but he did not want to embarrass Stefan.

 

[Stefan Archer]

It wasn’t hard for the former slytherin to sense when someone started to feel sorry for him. He knew that it often came when people thought about not being able to see color. It was the only time he ever caught a glimpse of the kind of the thing he could be missing. If color was something most people couldn’t imagine living without it was something more incredible than he would ever know. After all, he was too nervous to actually find out. He had reasons, Stefan did little without thinking about it initially, after all he tended to have little but a lot to lose. But, with this pity, he preferred that to people feeling bad about his home life. The colorblindness being something the teen had long come to terms with. It was no different to him that anything else was. It was not as if it made his life so much more difficult than it already was. It was just a small bump that Stefan had learned to deal with so much better than could be expected. He’d never asked for any help from the school, he’d never thought it matter that much. So, he hadn’t bothered with it. It had been a completely new environment for him. School had been the first time without his father. He’d been introduced to a whole world running completely along side what he’d thought to be normal life. But, Stefan had to thank his father for even letting him go. Things weren't great currently, but he knew if he hadn’t that he would be so much worse off. For one thing he doubted he’d have even made it to sixteen. That and at least he’d found friends, felt and experienced things that still made him smile. And he’d met Kate. Kate was the girl he was the one person he was sorry for leaving behind. She’d want nothing to do with him if they ever met again. Stefan had not been paying attention until he saw Javar hold fingers out in front of his face. Stefan looked over to the other teen and then back to the hand. He wondered why the boy wanted to know how good his eye sight really was.

”Four fingers. At this length, they’re out of focus, a lot. So, I’m seeing two really large fingers, blurry. But, I know it’s four. If you move your hand.” Stefan reached out and moved the other teen’s hand back slightly and then slightly up. ”Then it’s a lot clearer. Still four fingers but this time I can make out the four fingers.” Stefan gave a small smile before looking back down at the ground. It was the reason why he hadn’t made any great improvements when it came to writing, and reading. Though he’d gotten hundreds of times better at it, it would always appear wobbly, and it would always take forever for him to do. Stefan had long trained himself to tell things in his terrible eye sight. It was necessary, so he’d taught himself how to look at the world around him through blurry eyes, and it had become normal. The following question was one he had expected. He nodded. ”From time to time yeah.” Stefan replied honestly. There was little point of saying he didn’t. It was the least of his worries. He had so much more to be embarrassed about. It was a minor part of life. He learned how to smell different foods and was careful when bitting. ”I mistook a tennis ball for an apple once. They don’t taste the same at all.” Stefan gave a small laugh, remembering it, and while at the time he’d felt more than a little defeated, it was okay to at this point make light of the dark situation. ”I just have to be really careful.” Stefan looked at Javar as he asked for paper. Stefan was pretty sure he didn’t have any, but he didn’t know. He shrugged and then picked up his small backpack, rummaging through it until he pulled out a small bit of crumpled paper. ”It’s not much.” Stefan offered it to Javar. He no longer had much use for paper. Who would he write to, who’d seriously want to hear from him. He wondered why he needed it for. Although, Stefan was careful to not ask. It might be for private reasons that Stefan knew he had little place in. However, with the following words, Stefan found he was more curious to know than usual. They were two runaway teens unwilling to talk about their history. Maybe talking about things like that would help. Stefan took a deep breath, ”What do you need the paper for?” Easily said, now just hoping it hadn’t crossed some line.
​

 

[Javarius Askolov]

Javarius was sure that Stefan was curious on why he cared how good or poor his eyesight was. Javar just wanted to know. He sometimes asked about things that were none of his business, but it was because of his curious nature. He was always thirsty to know the answer to something. Javar was definitely not a good learner when it came to academics, but everything else he learned easily. If there was something he was curious about or did not understand he would searched for an answer. He was just naturally that way. He wanted to try and understand what it was like to be in Stefan's shoes. He wanted to try and get to know him. The two could be friends. It was awhile since Javar had a friend to trust and talk to. He and Stefan were in the same situation and had similar lives. They already had things in common. It just was not easy yo trust someone. He did not want to be walked all over by someone he trusted. That would shatter his heart even more. He did not want to put himself in that situation. Then he would not trust himself to make his own decisions.

Javar flinched a little when Stefan touched his hand. It was habitual. He usually avoided physical contact with people. With his past he hoped that Stefan would understand why he had flinched. He watched as Stefan moved his hand around. The feel of someone else's touch was strange to him. He was paying more attention to Stefan's hands rather than listening to his explanation. He noticed how far away his hands were from Stefan' face. "So it is like you are nearsighted in a way, right?" he asked rubbing his hands together. He still had a sensation going through his fingers when Stefan touched him. It was like Stefan's touch had lingered on him a little bit. Like what happened when someone got their first kiss. That's what the lingering felt like. Javar gave a small laugh. "I think that's an experience I never want to have." he smiled slightly. Javar could only imagine what that was like for Stefan. He would have never tried to eat an apple again if that happened to him. It would have been something that he never forget. Javar nodded. He really hoped that Stefan was careful. He was not a heartless person. He actually cared about people. His love for the Dark Arts lead people to believe that he was a heartless person. His mother may not have care about him, but he did care about other people, some of them. He gratefully took he piece of paper. He reached in his pocket and took out a sparkly pink pen that he still had. The pen wrote in purple ink, and he would be sad once the pen ran out of ink. He placed the piece of paper in his lap. "Mind. Dire. Love. Time. Leave. One." he said the words quietly as he wrote each one down. He looked back to Stefan. "At Durmstrang words would pop into my head all the time, so I write them down and write a song using them." he explained enthusiastically to Stefan. Songs were his thing. Javar definitely thought that he could make a living off of it if he truly wanted to.

 

[Stefan Archer]

Stefan hadn't been to the eye doctors in a long while. He had no idea what kind of eyesight he had. All he knew was that he couldn't see well, that his eye sight was attricious compared to the average person. He didn't have the advantage of seeing colour. Overall his eye sight wasn't something to envy, it was really something to take pity on. Stefan had never seen the world in the way that most took for granted. Stefan had always learned to deal with it, but it wasn't something people could understand. He had worked so much hard that others around him so his eye sight would be better, but eye sight wasn't fixed like that. It was fixed with glasses, or contact's. Two things him or his father had been able to afford. It was just the small annoying factor about having close to no money. The former slytherin hoped that just one day he'd be able to see the world in slightly clearer fashion. One day before he died. Without colour, because he hardly wanted to see that. See what he had truly missed following all the years he'd lived. Colour was never the viable option for him. He'd long decided that he wasn't going ever see the colour. But that didn't mean glasses that made things easier wouldn't be better. He was sick of things not looking clear. He had always thought that his eye sight was something he should do something about, but he had been too scared to. Sensing Javar flinch, Stefan didn't even think on the matter. It was why his touch was light. He was thankful in a sense to get the hand slightly out of his face. But he understood why he'd flinched. Stefan found he flinched less when it was people his age. Few people his age had ever hurt him. The few at the muggle school had been the expection, but people like Kate, he had never minded in the end. In fact, Stefan had always liked the way she'd felt when he put his arm around her. He loved everything about her. He missed her greatly, but he'd been too scared to stick it out while at school. He'd panicked. He'd done something rash, and he was going to pay for it. He already was. At school, if he'd stuck it out, the worst of his worries would've been classes. Now, he was alone with nothing and an incredible hunger that as it grew would cause waves of pain in his stomach. "I guess. I don't really know what it is, so probably." Stefan felt no point in pretending that he did. What difference would it truly make? There were a lot of spaces in Stefan's education. There were lots of things that he didn't know.

"You and me both." Stefan added. He had real problems with food, but like evrything else he just kept going. Kept pushing through and living. Showing that he was strong and he could do it. He just needed more time than most, he had to pay real attention to what he ate, to what he was picking up. Stefan was careful. He was used to looking hard for any form of food. He'd grown up in a home where if he'd been allowed it, there was nothing. Stefan watched carefully as the boy took the paper and just wrote down some words. He had no idea what they really meant. Javar explained, he'd gone to durmstrang, he was a long way from where he'd come from. Stefan had heard very briefly of Durmstrang, a conversation in passing. A mention of the north. He didn't know where the school was, but he figured that it wasn't near. A song. Javar wrote songs. "Can you sing?" Stefan asked interested in it. Stefan was sure that he could, which was why he wanted to write songs. But Stefan thought it right to ask. "Have you written anything?" Stefan had never sung. He'd never had reason to. He didn't know any songs. He didn't. Stefan had no idea if he could sing. But he was curious about Javar and what songs he sung, or wrote. What wasn't interesting about that?
​

 

[Javarius Askolov]

Javarius did not know much about eye problems, but he did know a tiny bit. He knew a few kids at Durmstrang that wore glasses. They had been willing to share a few things to him. They had been a few first years. He had wrote all about it in his journal, but it had gotten stolen from him. His journal had been the closest thing to family for Javar, and sometimes it was depressing thinking about all the words that had gotten stolen from him. The first few day after he got mugged, Javar was so sad and depressed about the whole things. It made him sad that his journal had gotten stolen. It had contained songs, sheet music,school spells and notes, and heartfelt entries. Words did not come to Javar easily, so he felt like words were stolen from him. Words he could never get back. Days had turned into weeks and weeks into months. He had gotten over it. He felt he would never completely heal from the experience. He would definitely grow from it. He promised himself that.

Javar shrugged. The only singing he did was to make sure the lyrics went along with the melody. He did not sing because he loved it. It was more like he sang because that what songwriters did to make sure the song flowed well. "I guess so, yeah." he said. He had never tried to see if he could sing well or bad. He just tried to make the song flow good. That's all that mattered to him. He would rather someone else sing his songs than him sing them himself. That was just how he was. Javar nodded. Stefan seemed interested in Javar now. It was like the awkward atmosphere had weakened. It was strange for him to be talking to Stefan about his interests, but he could deal with it for now. He did not really mind. "Yeah, I had a whole journal full of sheet music and lyrics. Sadly, I don't have them anymore." he said and looked down at his lap. He neatly folded up the paper and stuffed it in his pocket along with his pen.

 

[Stefan Archer]

Music had always been something that The colourind teen had lacked in his life. Whether it was lyrical or just the melody. Music had never been something he had. He had never been able to just sit and sing. No one had ever allowed him too. His father had struck him when he thought Stefan was just humming. Singing for that reason was out the window. He had always loved hearing Kate sing. He always loved the music that played at the Halloween feast or the yuleball. Stefan had never known what anything was and he was always humming along and despite the fact he had no idea what they were. He never really understood where the music came from. It was something that to him just appeared he hadn't thought of how much work went into it. He didn't know. How was he able to know. Music had never been allowed. Watch Javar write on the paper fascinated him. He was sure that if anything music was a way of talking. That a person could say exactly how they felt by creating a song. It seemed a little odd to him. That such a process could then impact others to do the same. Stefan wondered if he would be able to do it. If he knew how to sing, or if he would be able to write lyrics for a song. He wouldn't ever know. Stefan didn't want to write about what he'd been through, talking about it was hard enough writing would be just as hard. He didn't ever want to experience such things again. Remembering memories he'd long left at the back of his mind. Stefan eyes were on the boy's writing on the paper. He wondered what it could lead to. What would it sound like in the end. Music had always been missing in his life. He had always wanted to be able to spend hours listening to music. He wondered if Javar would ever sell his songs and become well known. Which was not a desire he actually had. Stefan hoped for the best for Javar. A part of the former slytherin hoped for the best for him. Stefan knew he more or less deserved the situation he was in, but this guy who was clearly talented, Stefan hoped he would make it.

There as a wonder in Stefan, what had happened that he had lost everything else. It was probably something that he wouldn't want to talk about. Stefan Archer wished he would be able to help, but they were both as far as he was aware underage and therefore could not get it back with magic. He felt somewhat sory about it. "I'm sorry." he apologized. Unsurewhy he was apologizing but he felt bad. Stefan was so wrapped up in what he saw as his minor issues and the guy next to him had lost his music book. Which he was sure had meant a lot to the guy. "How long have you been writing songs for?" Stefan asked briefly looking up at him, before back at the paper. "Is music what you want to do with your life?" in parts Stefan felt odd talking about the future when for him, he was always unsure about the future. Everything was as blurry as his own eyesight. Well at least for him it was. Stefan was curious to know if some one in a similar situation as his, with a similar background as his had long term plans and ambitions. It was always something he'd wondered about, thought about trying to create a plan or ambition, but each time he'd tried something else had come up and thrown him off, which made him less motivated to even bother.


sorry about the wait and how lame it is!​

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[Javarius Askolov]

Javarius slouched even more on the bench. He had started to get cramps in his legs, and they were pretty long. Javar sometimes wondered if he had giant blood in him. He knew he did not because he would be much taller if he did. He did not want to attract any attention to himself. He already looked unusual walking the streets. Being a giant would just make him look like a freak. He did not like getting unecessary attention. It made him uncomfortable. For now, he just wanted to be a normal kid that survived on the streets. There was probably nothing normal about that. He looked down at his shoes. They were all dirty. Javar took extra care of his shoes, but they just looked like a dog had took a dump all over them. He smacked his lips. "My poor shoes." he mumbled sadly to himself.

Javar rolled his eyes. What was Stefan apologizing for? There was nothing to be sorry about. He honestly hated apologizing. He did not like doing it, but sometimes he had to swallow his pride any apologize for the rude things that would come out of his mouth. "Is there a reason why you said that?" he asked in an irritated voice. He was glad that Stefan could not reall see his facial expression because he did not look happy. "Since my third year at Durmstrang." he said simply. His past life seemed to interest Stefan, but it was really not anything special. It was nothing special. All he knew was some Dark magic and some cooking and cleaning spells. No one but Javar knew about his cooking talents. He loved to make food. He loved to clean too. Which was sad if you considered his situation. He was always dirty, and this did not make him happy. Javar shrugged. "Maybe, but I am not even sure that I'm going to be able to make it to that point in life, you know?" he said lowly. He was talking in a very morbid way. Sometimes there were days were his situation really got to him. Most days he was apathetic about it, but sometimes he just felt like jumping in a trash can and letting one of those muggle machines take him away. He had never slept in a trash can, and he still had no plans on doing so either.