Hanging Onto A Verbal Frienzy

Wind rustled around the astronomy tower. Cupid had left his telescope here after the previous nights Astronomy Class. He quiet liked Astronomy, it didn't provide him with any skills he could take onto his pursuit of fame, but it was relaxing. He was always awake at that time anyway, it simply gave him something to do for a change. 

On the other hand he couldn't hide the fact that he wouldn't perform well in his astronomy OWL. Becca was the smart one out of the two and she'd only gotten an exceeds expectations. 'Only.' That had been Becca's response, Cupid could only hazard a guess as what her reaction would be when he came out with exceeds expectations - as long as he achieved that in Astronomy he could simply throw the fact that she was no better than him. That would make for an interesting conversation. 

'Oh come on.' Cupid muttered to himself after finally shifting a giant globe to discover that nobody had put his telescope behind it. Why would they anyway? Why wouldn't it be in the same spot that he'd left it after last nights lesson, nobody used the tower during the day? If only he knew.

Sighing Cupid headed over towards the railing, staring down over the sweeping lawns leading up to the castle. The way the sun set on each blade of glistening grass was rather magical. The Slytherin hadn't seen the sun set in a while now, what with it usually being cloudy all the time. 

Out of the corner of his eye something was twinkling in the sunlight, shining in an angle that wasn't too good for the blue eyes of Cupid Litherland. Shifting slightly to the left out of the submitted shimmer Cupid saw it, it was brass and long, but how in earth did it get there?

Cupid's telescope was lay precariously on the gutter that trailed around the tower. That would be easy, he'd simply levitate it from the gutter and the Slytherin would be reunited with his brass instrument once more... Apart from he'd left his wand on the bedside table. Great. That mean't he'd have to traipse all the way down to the dungeons, unless.

Narrowing his eyes into a frown Cupid peered over the railing to where it was in the guttering. If he was careful, extremely careful, perhaps he could reach over and get it. 

Cupid didn't like heights, one of the reasons he wasn't a flier. Taking a deep swallow he leaned over. Nowhere near. That mean't he would have to step onto the railing that encircled the tower. Great. 

Placing one foot then the other onto the first rail, supporting himself with one hand on the top rail, Cupid leaned over to try and grasp his telescope. 

She didn't like to admit to it very often. But yes, Alisha had her quieter days.

The comparative form of the adjective, was essential. What was 'quieter' to Alisha Merchant was a downright rampage to half the population of the world.

Still. She had woken up today, stretched her arms above her head and wished Blondie a very good morning indeed. The aforementioned dorm mate cast a glance at her- assessing, emotionless, discarding- and brushed past her without a word. That, was normal. It happened pretty much everyday of the one year that the two had inhabited a dorm together. Alisha didn't care if the people she spoke to (annoyed) on a daily basis were unwilling- in fact she was pretty much oblivious to it, that made her the Ali that everyone knew and hopefully loved. But she wasn't stupid. And was also human.

Unfortunately, her mind seemed to be inclined towards being more human and less of classic Ali. So there was a tiny prick when the dorm door slammed behind the fourteen year old blonde, Alisha sitting yogic style on her four poster bed. Sitting and watching.

But it wasn't inclined to moping, thank God. So Alisha slipped on her sneakers, stepped into jeans and pulled on a jacket, tearing out for her morning run. By the time she jogged across four floors, innumerable staircases, and emerged for fresh air on the turrets of Astronomy Tower, breath catching and heart pounding with exertion, she had almost out run the melancholy.

It was small, fleeting. But present, because with her independence came a touch of loneliness, with a nomadic thirst for adventure came the sense of not having a home, with a love for crowds came a lack of very close friends. But she shook her hair back from her face, lifted it to the clouds and watched the sky- and smiled, because seconds spent in melancholy were seconds wasted.

Then she looked down, across the rooftop, and a gasp escaped- because a guy was half hanging over the ledge, head bent down low. Alisha had spent months herself clambering over the ....er, 'higher' places of Hogwarts. She knew exactly what he was doing. He must be......he must be....

Oh god. He must be trying to throw himself off.

So, naturally, naturally, the words exited, loud and quick and anxious, "Don't jump!"

outfit

Almost there, just another-

Cupid's fingertips were almost about to enclose around the trapped telescope, ready to rescue the brass instrument that he'd need to secure his target of an exceeds expectations. There really was no need to go to all this trouble, however, his Mother was wealthy. She could easily afford a new telescope, a more advanced one at that, but that would mean enduring a lecture from both Becca and his Mother telling him to be more careful something Becca could do without. The Slytherin never did like being told how to live his life and no doubt Becca would make up some sort of plan for him to follow and prevent him losing his possessions. Heck she'd probably start telling him to study more whilst she was at it. No. Cupid hadn't wanted that.

Right now, however, Cupid was wishing he had gone with the lectures as he found himself suddenly hanging from the railing - the lowest bar. Well he had certainly come closer to the telescope, it now sat just below his rapidly beating heart.

If Cupid had been any thinner it would be a surprise if his heart stayed locked inside his ribs. Hist worst fear was coming true: death by falling. That wasn't how Cupid wanted to go, unless he was fighting a dragon but even then that would never happen because he wouldn't fight the dragon on a broomstick. As much as the tale of Harry Potter inspired him he wasn't Harry Potter. He was a flier.

The blue eyes caught sight of the reason behind his fall: a girl who appeared to be one, maybe two, years younger than him. What was she doing up here? Nobody came up here unless they had class - or at least that's what the Slytherin assumed as he'd never been up here outside of class to find out.

'H-help!' Cupid cried as his knuckles whitened with the additional fearful grip. There was no mistaking the quiver in his voice. The Slytherin was scared for death could greet him any time, greet him before he'd proved himself aquained the crown jewels and called himself a royal. Instead of reigning fame the Slytherin could be a apple about to fall from its branch and bury itself in the soil.

'Please!.' He gasped.

Generally, Alisha was quite happy by nature. 'Always with that stupid, pleased-with-herself smile on her face' , her grandmother would mutter, and then proceed to erase aforesaid smile by burdening her with the back breaking weight of academics. That too, during holidays. Child labour, really. When Alisha, quite respectfully in her opinion, voiced that she actually went to school now; Daadi would show her chipped, yet sparkling white teeth, and inform her that she didn't doubt the competency of the school that enrolled her, but the ability of her grand-daughter to pay attention. That's when she understood from where exactly she had inherited her cheek.

Still, most of the time Alisha could acknowledge that her happiness just verged on the line of self-satisfaction. Crossed over, a time or two. That didn't mean she couldn't curse herself when the necessary opportunities arose. No, she did do so, and proceeded in her task with great determination and an absolutely delightful vocabulary of invectives that she used on herself liberally. One such, extremely appropriate occasion, would be now.

When the guy tumbled over the ledge, hanging on by his bare fingertips, and literally stuttered in his attempt to ask for help- Alisha felt strongly tempted to slap her forehead against her hand. In fact, she did so, and with great force and aplomb. She thoroughly deserved it.

Alisha Merchant, you absolute idiot. Not everyone leaning over a roof ledge is trying to jump.

So naturally, instead of immediately running over and flinging out a hand, naturally- Alisha started pacing up and down, hands slashing their way across the air wildly. "Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The guy could have died, Alisha. Fell through a hundred feet and cracked his skull." A sudden image of leaked brains splattering the Hogwarts grounds came to mind, and Alisha cringed. "He could have been trying to clean the ledge or something. Or watching birds making a nest over the seventh floor window. Or serenading someone. But no. You just had to think he was going to jump. What if he actually fell? Then you would have to live with blood on your hands forever."

"Please!" A voice somewhere to the corner gasped, and startled Alisha out of her skin. She had almost forgotten that the guy was still hanging over the roof.

"Right, right. Sorry." She stopped walking, feet almost pausing mid-air, and began rifling through her pockets hastily. Jeans back pocket: nope. Jacket pocket: nope. "Darn it, where's my wand....." All she needed was one Levitation Charm. Down her socks: nope. Behind her ear: god no. Crap she had forgotten her wand.

Obviously, that was her cue to start pacing again, and talking to the air. "Must have left it on the sink in the dorm bathroom.....or maybe in the common room.....stupid, stupid Alisha.....who the hell goes on a morning run without their wand?" She did. Every single day. "Damn it.....what if Blondie took it?" She came to a stop, her eyes widening. "That girl bloody loathes me. What if she snaps my wand?" Well, she did have a spare one shoved down her trunk but stil-

A dangerous cracking sound pervaded through the air. Somewhere from the right. Where the guy was.....yep. Still hanging.

Alisha squeezed her eyes shut, cursing herself for the millionth time, and finally propelled herself through the air, half stumbling over a crack in the stone before she finally flung her torso over the ledge, right hand stretched out. "I'm sor-....just.....take my hand." She fixed her eyes on the frightened blue gaze and let her lips pull up into a reassuring smile, head nodding assertively. "Nothing's gonna happen to you. Just take my hand."

Just when Cupid had thought perhaps the girl was finally going to help him she began to pace one again. Wondering where her wand was, mentally retracing her steps. She sure didn't know how to prioritise her thoughts, either that or had the attention span of a crackerjack toad. 

Here the Slytherin was, holding onto his life, an inch away - or perhaps 80 feet or so would be more precise - from death and the girl still hadn't offered to help him. She definitely wasn't a Slytherin. Slytherin's knew how much life was important to them, they looked after their own and would have jumped at the chance to help Cupid especially seeing as he'd made himself fairly popular among his house after the Christmas party. No. Definitely not a Slytherin.

Attempting to try and secure himself more his feet searched for some sort of hole, a crack to grip hold of. His attention had moved from the pacing girl now, just as hers had from him as he dragged his foot from side to side around the towers brickwork. 

Crack. Cupid had found one, or at least the sound of lightly falling rubble dancing along the side of the tower suggested that. The Slytherin wouldn't look down, the thought of the position he was in sent him light headed enough. But his foot was secure, he was a step closer to surviving.

'Thanks.' Cupid replied her heart sinking with relief slightly. That was until he realised he couldn't let go of the ledge. He wasn't strong but he was stronger than the girl, plus he had gravity on his side. Surely if he grasped hold of her hand he'd drag her over and they'd both fall to their deaths - unless he landed on her maybe he could scavenge a month in the hospital wing. That wouldn't be too bad plus the forgetful pacing girl would at least have achieved something in her short life: she'd saved the life of Cupid Litherland. Something that would be a special service when he became famous... If he became famous. 

'I can't, I'll pull you over.' His voice still shaking. 'Secure yourself.' He gasped, not for her sake but his own. Sure the Slytherin was grateful the girl had decided to help him but God could have selected a better candidate to play his hero - a Professor or a bunch of strong seventh years perhaps? 

Alisha's eyebrows crinkled despite herself. Okay.....to be completely fair, she wasn't the best saviour the world had ever fashioned, or ever gave the chance to save a life. But putting it lightly.....despite all appearances, she wasn't completely useless. Clambering over roofs and walls before she could properly run, playing every position in Quidditch there possibly was (because sticking to one was a waste, and plain ol' boring, even if she was the Huffle keeper)- had led to athleticism, and consequently extremely good upper body strength, if she said so herself (with a good shot of ego); enough to haul him up. The boy really didn't need to look like she was going to throw him off the ledge.

But then again........it was his life at stake. Or his limbs, at any rate. Limbs were generally a very important part of the body.

"Alright, let me look around for something....." She twisted her head around, still kneeling on the floor, her black eyes flitting around the tower room, focusing on objects, then disregarding them. Until they found something, then brightened. "Aha."

Alisha got to her feet, dusting her hands, mouth half opening to tell the boy to stay right there, before closing shut with a snap. Does he look like he's going to go anywhere? God. She scrambled across the room, feet skidding sharply as she came to a halt, then fisted out the tiny, frayed edge of the rope that she had espied from the ledge. Gave it a sharp tug, and the long, thin twine gave way and emerged, attached loosely at the base of a rusted brass telescope. Pressing the bottom of her sneaker's sole against the base, and winding the rope around her left hand- Alisha pulled hard and fast- and the slight splicing sound that permeated the air suggested the rope was fraying, but slowly. And she didn't have time for slowly.

When she finally unwound the rope from her hand, there were long, red marks imprinted on her skin- coiling around her wrist and aching with short, sharp jabs. The rope was still not yielding. Damn. Drawing the weak portion tight between her palms, Alisha opened her mouth wide and bit through the twine- threads snagging on her canines, but finally, finally coming free. When she lifted her head, stray strands of black hair dangling into her eyes, smiling triumphantly at the rope, her heart beat punctuated her voice, echoing with relief. "Got it."

There wasn't much time to think, and god, she'd taken a bit long to realise that, hadn't she? The natural course of action would be to tie the rope around the pillar, then her waist, and clasp the boy's hand and pull him to safety. But then a phantom ache ghosted up her ankle- and Alisha discarded that plan like a bowl of rotten fruit. She knew of the precariousness of sweaty hands, and how they had the tendency to slip at the worst moments. The boy was looking terrified, and he would naturally be sweating rather heavily. If his fingers slipped through.......

Knotting the rope about the nearest pillar didn't take more than ten seconds. Alisha dug her soles into the cold, stone floor of the room, smiled lightly, then sprinted towards the boy and vaulted off the ledge.



For a few seconds, the sound of her heartbeat was all that was audible. Thump. Thump. Thump. Her right leg wobbled for a bit, then stabilised; an experienced heel digging into a crack for support immediately. Her fingertips were curled hard around the smooth ledge surface, and already starting to burn from the effort. She'd probably scraped her knuckles too, if the numbed pain seeping down her phalanges was any indication.

She threw back her head, wind flapping madly at her hair, and laughed: the sound running across the walls like a faery, leaping over stones and whisking inside windows. She turned her head to the side, quite an achievement considering the fact that she was pressed against the wall, and smiled blindingly at the boy now just adjacent to her, but a couple inches below.

"That, was way too fun." She pronounced, while shimmying to the left with slow, sure moments, until her elbow brushed the sleeve of the boy's shirt. She turned her head completely, and slowly released her left hand from its tight grip on the ledge, the end of rope still twined around its thumb. Her left eye closed in an affable wink. "Now, don't panic. I'm not about to molest you, alright?" Then she pressed forward, left hand winding around the boy's lower back, carrying the rope along with it. It was a bit of a struggle getting her hand to completely go round the boy's waist, but she managed- her front pressed tight to his back- till in a breathless moment, she loosened her grip completely in order to secure the loop of rope around him.

Of course, the world picked that very moment to send a strong gust of wind, enough to sway her to the side and almost, almost, let her legs fall through; but Alisha seized the ledge with her left hand again at the last second, nails scraping against stone, and flattened herself against the wall. She could dimly hear her heart pound through the stone, the fluttering beat entering her ear, squashed against the wall.

She exhaled.

God, how she lived for these moments.

Pulling herself up was a chore, one which she easily executed. She really did have too much practice on roofs. Then, getting up- brushing off lint from her roughened palms and knees, her hand went around the rope pulled taut between the pillar, and the boys weight, pressing it under her arm. Wound the rope about her wrist again, pressed her teeth tight, braced her knees.....and pulled.

(OOC: I am SO sorry for my mega slow reply!!)

Cupid couldn't see what the Hufflepuff was doing, although he could at least hear movement and the clattering of an object as she moved something from something or something of that something sort. That was a good sign he hoped. Finally the girl was taking him seriously, not getting distracted by silly thoughts or general chit chat. Moreover she had stopped talking to herself.

Expecting the girl to lean over once more the Slytherin was submitted into a state of surprise verging on shock. The girl had flung herself over the edge like a bungee jumper. Not thinking about his ego Cupid had let out a scream as she did so. What on earth was she doing?

Now breathing more heavily, his heart thumping wildly against the wall and the palms of his hand beginning to grow sweatier Cupid turned his head to see that she, like himself, had found a crack to lodge her foot into. Had she done this before? Cupid hoped not, the last thing he needed to help them get back over was a suicidal maniac, but she just seemed to know what she was doing?

Shutting his eyelids tightly he felt the girl coming around his back, fastening the rope to him as well. The glass was half empty. The rope would snap and they would both plummet to their deaths, why didn't he just return to the dormitory for his wand and get the telescope later? Speaking of the telescope he wasn't even holding it! That's what he'd do, if he survived, he'd simply go and get the telescope later, use wingardium leviosa to levitate back into the tower from it's home in the gutter.

The next obstacle was a gust of wind, a gust so strong Cupid was sure they were gonners. Still not opening his eyes he continued to wait for that moment his body was splat against the ground and death was stamp on him like a child on an ant. Right now, in this situation, he was an ant when he needed to be an eagle. Too bad he wasn't an animagus.

A new feeling caught him. The feeling of stone scraping against him. That's it he was falling, sliding down the castle side into a pool of crocodiles that would eat him for lunch and have the girl for dessert. Opening his eyes a notch he exhaled shakily. A sigh of relief. They were going up, whatever the girl was doing was working, they were going up. Cupid was safe, he was going to live and sure enough he felt his body topple over the railing and into the observatory, knocking over a telescope as he did so.

The Slytherin didn't move, instead he lay there his blue eyes fixed on the ceiling - painted with stars, something he'd never noticed before. His heart sprinted for a little while long then gradually returned to normal, his breathing and sweating followed suite until his body was once again at homeostasis.

'Thank you.' He breathed, not looking at the girl, continuing to lie on his back with his hands resting on the rope that fastened around his waist.