[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px][justify][size=9pt][font=Bodoni MT]Faustus rolled his shoulders, the muscles there tightening in exertion as he moved through another rep. He breathed in a sigh of relief as his watcher helped him put the dumbbell back in its place, hearing the soft click as it locked. He swung his legs over the bench, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt. At the same time, he noticed several longing looks from many of the customers there, along with a certain gleam in their eyes. Faustus shivered. Damn fan-girls. Just when I'm feeling good, they have to ruin it. The only reason he was there was because the type of dancing he did required muscles. And the Wizard had learned the hard way how much it hurt when his own arms couldn't hold him up. And it wasn't like he was heavy in any case.
His watcher grinned wickedly at the moment, leaning against the wall and earning several admiring looks also. "Don't make it seem so bad, Fausty, my man. Those girls and -" Joe, his friend, smiled in appreciation. "- some of the pretty guys, look over here to see this-" He flexed his muscles and sent a wink to a... rather well endowed blond, making her blush a cherry red. "And -" He flicked Faustus' head, making the man in question scowl at him balefully. "- you, of course."
Faustus clicked his tongue in annoyance and stood up, lazily stretching his arms over his head, making the shirt ride up and showing off sleek muscles. "It's not like I do this on purpose." He drawled, snatching the towel hanging on the wall hook. "They should be focusing on their own work outs, rather then ours."
"You're such a party pooper."
"And you're a hormonal idiot."
He received a mock-hurt look for that comment. "Oh Faustus, my friend, my compadra, my lover, my-"
Faustus cut him off. "We were never lovers, we just met a month ago, and you said compadre wrong." He deadpanned, ignoring the metaphysical arrows that shot towards Joe with every rejection, hitting with deadly accuracy. Faustus chuckled in amusement, sending a superior smirk at the downed weight lifter.
"That's too cruel."
Was the last thing he heard as he descended upon the stairs.
--
Draining the Scenes
Was flashing in loud neon colors, making his eyes hurt, but at the same time, making his usually lazy orbs gleam in excitement. Slipping his name to bouncer, the teen was admitted into the club and once again - he was immediately in awe of atmosphere. Bodies bumping, shots drunk, head nodding, the smoke in the air and the smell of alcohol. Weaving almost elegantly through the crowds of people, Faustus took it all in with a lazy curve of his lips and an eager anticipation that was nearly tangible. This club was one of the only Wizard-Owned in the city, and it was obvious why it was so popular. No discrimination, all was equal in this establishment. That included; the mundane-born, the creatures and the Purebloods. Of course fights broke out all the time, but those didn't last long, usually broken up before it could actually begin.
People called out to him, some recognizing the teen on site, and others just going with the flow. Faustus waved a hand back, eyes on the rather large dance-floor that grew as more people joined and shrunk as they left. It was the only obvious magical proof in the club, smaller nuances barely noticed and covered up with a trick of the light. Magic was allowed here, as the mundane couldn't even get near the place, but most were already used to hiding the fact. A fact that was slightly saddening. You couldn't even show off in a club where Magic was meant to be shown off. Shaking his head Faustus was immediately engulfed into the folds of dancers, spinning girls - having himself spun much to the amusement of both girls and boys, even having a quick paced two-step with one of the more tolerant Vampires.
The music changed on demand, barely finishing one song before a completely different tune would play - often sending dancers off the floor as more of the talented ones took stage. Faustus stayed with them all, enjoying himself as one of the guys playfully pushed him to the floor - standing back as the Wizard instantaneously started to Windmill, legs flying as he spun in a tight circle, a laughter of pure joy erupting from his throat. Pushing off his arms, Faustus gyrated into a Jackhammer, catching himself on one arm and once again pushing off. Another guy pulled his arm out from under him - from the bottom side - made it easier for the Wizard to stand in an unbalanced landing. Obsidian eyes glared darkly at the male, but said male merely grinned and steadied Faustus.
"C'mon, don't tell me that's it."
"Not even close."
All in all, it was a fun night.
--
[justify][font=Bodoni MT]Arriving home - a modest two story house - sweat dripping down his face, a pain in his stomach and all Faustus wanted to do was sleep. Exertion was making itself known as the teen stumbled through the front door, waving off a purring Demonia who then turned her tail in an obvious snub. It was then he heard that girlish laugh. A laugh he heard from only one person (that was allowed in their warded home). His mother. Dragging a hand down his face, then fixing his wilder than usual hair, he tried to make himself presentable. A difficult endeavor, especially considering he was in a sweat-stained tank top, skinny jeans and his normal combat books. But he made due and headed towards the sickening sweet sound he so accompanied with his ... Mother. She was where he expected her. In the living room, on the love seat and across from... who the hell was that?
Eyes closing, Faustus searched for something, anything that would make him feel something. But that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. He was too used to these occasions, where she would appear in his house with some random guy, instead of her own. It used to irritate him, in that vague - why aren't you in your own house - sort of way. And before that, it used to sadden him. She didn't even remember who his father was but she continued to do this? Over the years he adjusted and just become... numb to the whole thing, not ever bothering to care. But... he still cared for her. She was his mother and he did turn out alright... somewhat.
"Mother."
Matching eyes connected and in them Faustus could see multiple emotions, though they went by too fast to see. "Darling, I didn't expect to see you here." Lie.
The faceless man tilted his head to the side, curiousness obvious in his voice. "Didn't you say you had a son? Why wouldn't he be home at..." The man checked his watch. "11:00 at night?"
/he didn't really care to remember these people, but Eidetic Memory... what could you do? He learned to separate what he wanted to see and what he didn't/
It was only 11? He was losing his touch. His mother's face tightened almost imperceptibly. It looked like this man wouldn't last the night. "Yes, but he was at a friend's house." Lie. "And I didn't expect him back until tomorrow." And another lie.
Holding back the ridiculously large urge to yawn /closehiseyes/ Faustus smiled sweetly, a rare Please-let-me-leave-and-I-won't-bother-you-and-your-man type of look that his mother recognized instantly. "I'm sorry for coming home early, but Michael broke his leg -" Break-dancing. "And his parents-" Friends. "Had to take him down to the hospital."
"Oh dear, you should go upstairs and rest, I'm sure you're very tired from your ordeal." Sometimes, Faustus was thankful his mother wanted him and her dates to have nothing to do together. And almost always sent him away when she had 'company'.
His usual lazy drawl sneaking into his voice, the teen quirked an eyebrow, "Thank you Mother," and fled up the stairs, though still hearing Gina's date questioning his state of dress. 'Yup. So not staying the night.' Pushing his door open, and letting Demonia enter first, he realized something that made him sigh. "Hogwarts." It wasn't that he disliked going there - who would? You were learning Magic. - it was just... ever since the war ended and Harry Potter was herald as a hero, there were so many teams (Pro-Muggle, Anti-Pureblood, Anti-Muggleborn, Pro-Pureblood), and Zeus dammit, he was tired of it all. He himself was a half-blood (according to the Goblins), so he was stuck in the middle and he really didn't give two sh*ts about it.
Dark eyes sliding over to the corner of the room, staring at his trunk as if it should spontaneously-combust, Faustus dismissed it instantly. He had time tomorrow, it wasn't like this hadn't happened before. Granted he had nearly missed the train the last three years, but eh. He had made it. Heading towards the showers, Faustus only had one thing in mind. Sleep.
'Hopefully Mother checks in on him, else-wise this time he might actually drown in the tub.'
--
The morning sun rose in the East and shone down on one Faustus Maddox, the teen obviously sleeping and enjoying every minute of it if the soft look on his face said anything. A king-sized bed took up the middle of the large room while a huge ceiling high book-shelf stood against the wall. On a small bedside table, an alarm clock stood. Old-fashioned. No music or radio. Just a red, round, alarm clock that, at this time, read 7:59. It was then, it hit 8:00. Immediately, a loud, screeching bell filled the room, sending Faustus to the floor with an audible thump and groan.
A slim hand slipped out of the sheets covering his body before finding a heavy shoe. Heaving the object upwards, it arced up and up and up.... then gravity took hold and instead of finding the alarm clock, its target ended up being Faustus' head. A thump and another groan later, arms pushed a lean body up until the teen could fruitlessly try and crawl into bed. His arms were too tired. His legs were too tired. And he was too tired. Sliding back down onto the floor, Faustus was just about to go back to sleep - alarm still ringing - when a flying furrball or rage attacked his face.
"Demonia, let go." He grunted, pulling the cat away and agreeing with the seen disgruntled expression on his feline friend's maw. "You do it." A swipe of a claw later and the alarm was turned off and Faustus was up staring at his trunk and still willing for it to explode. But since it didn't last night - when his mom pulled him from the tub with a fond sigh - or this morning, the teen decided it was indestructible. "I will figure out how to destroy you one day, Cel beckons you to his icy Underworld."
Then he was throwing random things into it, too blurry-eyed to actually see what was going in there. He was pretty sure he saw Demonia's catnip fly but wasn't too sure.
Half an hour later - three cat scratches, six bruises, two showers and a near car accident - Faustus was standing all wobbly-like at Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. Shoving his trolly through, he followed a few seconds later, almost losing his trunk when his trolly hit another boy's one and -almost- toppled both baggage over. Thankfully it didn't happen and Faustus was off once more, intent on getting onto the train to sleep and recover from his battle wounds. If he wasn't mistaken, the teen was pretty sure he still had cat-scatches on his face, past the tattoo hidden by a black choker along with bruises down his arm.
'And I haven't even arrived at Hogwarts yet.'
[font=constantia](( ugh. I don't even know. It seems so... ramblish. ))
Can't wait.))