centre for holy wars

Viva Prague!



- still alive.

cigarettes: 4, broken guitar strings from long-distance summoning charms: 4 (v. bad), textbooks needing reading: 19873987 , hangovers: 1 (not bad), Bletchley sightings: 0 (excellent)

The Juju died in the Forest – damn.

What’s the roommate situation this year?
Tell me 7th years get their own room.


Though I’m willing to share with you Pucey, you sex fiend, you.

The familiar chatter and clicking of flat ware was a hum in the Great Hall. The first half hour of dinner was almost spent. Some where still reaching for seconds of shepard’s pie, others dipped spoons into the rice pudding when the large oak doors to the hallway creaked open on their ancient hinges, and slammed against the stone in announcement of an unexpected arrival. Albus Dumbledore, dressed in dark blue common robes and wearing a point cap, strode into the hall looking mildly upset.

In his pinched left hand- was Adam Wilkes’s ear.

The Headmaster half-dragged the muddled 7th year down the center isle of the Great Hall. (“No respect for this noble institution”) past the Hufflepuffs, (“Think of your family, Mr. Wilkes…”), alongside the Ravenclaws – where Adam gave a small wave to Lisa- and to the table of befuddled Slytherins. Dumbledore sat Adam between a fussy 1st year and Malcolm Baddock, and with a sigh, headed towards the table of Professors.

Rubbing his reddened ear Adam, dressed in muggle street clothes and smelling strongly of whiskey, laughed lightly in embarrassment at his peers. All who shot puzzled-eyebrows and sharp glares back. Adam opened his mouth, closed it. Opened, shrugged, laughed again, and pointed to the 1st year’s plate.

“You gonna finish that?”

In America with Frank.

Won't make it back for school.
Will miss first two weeks.



More later.

CO. WRITTEN. with Peter, Original Author and Genius behind Frank Tiereny.



Staring at the vanishing point in the road Adam’s mind detoured back two days. How the hell did I get here?

It was just after one in the morning when a loud crack woke Adam from his tumbled sleep. Opening one sleep-crusted eye he made out the form of a familiar character silhouetted in his bedroom.

“PSSST,” it said.

Swallowing, Wilkes propped himself up against the intruder.

“What the fuck are yer-,”

“SHH,” it hissed, “It’s your mom,” it said softer now, “…she’s sleep walking naked.”

That voice was too familiar. Low and gruff, the effects of drink and one too many smokes.

( Frank? )

( Adam's Schedule-sort of )

heh
heh

I got the dog drunk…



…wait,
I don’t have a dog.

Okay, here’s the skimmy on Adam for the summer (like you lot care) He’s home with his mother and sister and the looser of a brother Evan. Up to eyeballs in trying to juggle the family. Keeping his sister safe, sane, and innocent meanwhile setting up a studio.

So…he basically has little time to journal about his “feelings”.

Life happens.

He’ll return with the Dark Lord.
*le gasp*

You can imagine my surprise when I came home to find my older brother, Evan, sitting shirtless at the kitchen table smoking over a bowl of cereal.
Wait- wasn’t he supposed to be in prison?
Muggle prison for that matter.
There were huge bruises patched across his back. Some so blue it was hard to tell where a tattoo ended or began. As Adam entered the room, sure enough, he spotted the Wizardry Society tattoo ringing around his shoulder blade.

“Hey little brother,” he shot smoke out his nose, “long time no see.”

“What are you doing home?”

“Got out.”

“Got out?”

Evan stuck the hand wrapped cigarette back into his mouth as if it was a pacifier for conversation.

“Where’s mum?”

The older brother shrugged.

“Where’s Hannah?”

Evan shook his head and mumbled something along the lines of “Fuck if I know”.

What a bastard...

He’d been cold turkey for 43 days…

After that last Final, though, Adam Wilkes bee lined to the nearest secluded balcony on the East Side Halls, and lit up. Leaning over the railing, his left hand pinching the cigarette, Adam stared into space. Out over the tops of the adjacent Castle extension, over the Forbidden Forest (the tips of the tress just visible), and into the space in the back of his head.

Thinking on nothing in particular, really. Adam took a long drag but this time kept the smoke hanging off his bottom lip. Stretching both hands over his head he groaned. Twisted his torso, cracked his knuckles; folded back over the railing. The fag still perched between his lips.

He nearly space out again if a voice didn’t interrupt...

I have an idea.

Settling down for breakfast in the Great Hall, Adam poured himself a tall glass of pumpkin juice and casually inspected the room. Everyone was buzzing about the S.N.I.T.C.H match, the Ball, Exams…

What rang in his mind more was knowing that next year would be his last. For a while, he envied Frank for having the courage to just get up and leave. Even if he didn’t know what he wanted, he must of known it wasn’t going to reveal itself here.

Adam despised breakfast food, but the alcohol from last night still churned through his system, making him groggy and dry-mouthed. He poured himself another glass of pumpkin juice, downed it, then rested his head face down on folder arms while gossip ran rampant over head.

Did you know, I recall writing her NAME on his notes….
Last night, in the library, Jess Carroll says that Michael Waters saw them kissing!
…I heard he fucked her...
Someone wrote ‘die mudbloods’ again on the wall…
I can’t believe he asked her to the ball, when everyone knows I’m…

Squeezing his eyes and concentrating on the black space, the smell of food, Adam looked for the beat in every syllable, piecing each phrase into a sort of, melodic harmony.

I saw him,
He asked her
And I can’t believe them when everyone recalls,
That last night,
In the library,
They kissed and fucked against the wall.

It almost worked.

Adam sat in a chair backwards and leaned absently forward on its back legs. Arms folded under his chin, he observed the Common Room scene… or lack-there-of. Many of the students were getting in their last cram sessions before finals/O.W.L.S/N.E.W.T.S.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eye, Adam took notice to Millicent who sat in one of the plush black sofas. From where he sat he couldn’t make out what she was working on. Only the back of her head faced him.

Pushing off the chair Adam quickly ran his hands through his hair, fixed his school collar, then pocketing his hands he approached the 4th year.

“Hullo Millicent,”

Way to forget my birthday.

Dear Adam,

Stop sucking so much.

Sincerely,
Your Life.

Though it seemed to be that he was pouring over a text on Modern Maladies vol. IV, Adam Wilkes was instead examining his most recent song appropriately titled, “You can’t take it with you”. Despite the fact that there wasn’t a teacher within classrooms of the library, he still felt it best to conceal his work in between the pages of a standard text.

Reading over the refrain one more time, he lightly hummed to himself before picking up the sensation that he was indeed being watched.

I have had a break through in what's going on!


I know for a fact that it was caused by one of the several explosions.



REASON BEHIND INDIFFERENT CHARACTERISTICS:
- Polyjuice
- Memory Lapse
- Amnesia
_ Dark Curse


I'm scratching my head here too...

Adam stumbled up the spiral staircase that lead to the Astronomy Tower. He was light headed and hungry, but managed to lift the wooden latch and push the large door into the cool night air. Clouds covered the sky in a midnight navy. The silhouetted forest below stretched as far as the eye could take in.

Clapping a hand to the stone barriers guiding up to the observation deck, Adam situated himself into a proper sitting position before throwing up down his shirt, and as the steam rose from the soaked clothing, he couldn’t help but hum gently.

Farwell and adieu my old Spanish ladies,
Farwell and adieu my ladies of Spain.
To where I am going the seas are beyond saving,
In sorrow, for I’ll never see you again….

He hiccupped in spite of himself.

It’s just like Frank not to leave a letter.

Adam stood in the lonely doorway to his room, the messenger back casually sliding off his shoulder. In a quick observation of the room he already made two conclusions. One, that he was planning this. Two, it was done while intoxicated. Frank’s side of the room was barren except for the scrolls of homework he had yet to finish. Sparing the sheets and curtains it looked like Frank fit everything into his traveling trucks and left during class.

Stepping into the room Adam took note that all of his instruments where in place, but a personal favorite pipe was missing from it’s decorative stand behind the 3rd curtain.

Bastard, thought Adam who couldn’t help breaking into a smile.

Truth be told – it was rather impressive. He certainly didn’t have the balls to right up leave school. Tiereny, though, was on a plane of his own when it came to social boundaries; from right to wrong.

Admiring his friends sudden dedication and up-rooting, Wilkes sat on Frank’s stripped mattress. A lump pressed into his rear, causing the boy to stand back up and examine more closely his seat. Reaching under the mattress, Adam retrieved a bottle of whiskey with its contents half full.

Unscrewing the top, he sniffed the head of the bottle lightly. Pressing lips to the opening, Adam paused in thought. He raised the bottle.

“To Frank.”

And drank till the room grew depressing

The bandages were gone from his hand, leaving a nice tan line ringing his forearm. Adam observed his flexing fingers while other students slowly came to term with the time, and retired to their rooms. After all, tomorrow was a school day.

The tendons stretched, pumped and sunk back into his hand. Bored of the anatomical side-show, he picked up a pencil and wrote rather quickly on a scrap of paper:

Lisa, this isn’t working. Sorry.

Admiring his rollercoaster penmanship due to recovery Adam charmed the note to Lisa’s room, and with a heavy sigh, slammed his head to the glossy surface of the Slytherin Common Room tables.