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Happy gaze through our pain | GALAAD

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AuteurMessage
Shannon O'Mahony

Shannon O'Mahony


ORDRE DU PHÉNIX
La meilleure défense, c'est l'attaque.

ORDRE DU PHÉNIXLa meilleure défense, c'est l'attaque.
| HIBOUX POSTÉS : 335
| AVATARS / CRÉDITS : Diego Luna | Sweetie Plum
| SANG : Né-moldu. D'ascendance irlandaise et colombienne.


Caractéristique du sorcier
| EPOUVANTARD : Lui-même, mort noyé, dévoré par les crabes.
| PATRONUS : Léopard des mers
| POINTS DE COMPÉTENCE :

Happy gaze through our pain | GALAAD Empty
MessageSujet: Happy gaze through our pain | GALAAD Happy gaze through our pain | GALAAD EmptyDim 28 Juin - 17:33

Shannon was waiting outside the Leaky Cauldron without - for once - smoking a cigarette. He had decided the day before to stop this silly habit he'd gained when he was much younger. At the dawn of his thirties, Shannon thought anything could be worse than everything he's lived before. He'd been through depression, almost through alcooholism, he'd been sad and happy, both following a strange pattern, but he had never experienced this horrible feeling of dying. But since the 10th April nineteen seventy-eight, he had learnt that life can come and leave as if anything could retain her. Life was a strange little thing. Like a butterfly, who comes, lives, and dies. Life was a dangerous, vicious little stuff.
He inhaled a deep breath before entering inside the pub. He had came with Marlene, and joined Athos in May. He wasn't alone, he was with someone, much younger than him, inexperienced as well. It's okay to come back with someone, but it's much harder to try to come on your own. The Irish man didn't intend to meet someone, he just wanted to override his trauma. But here, alone, standing up in front of an assembly of strangers drinking and speaking, he felt so abandonned he considered to leave. Telling himself he couldn't ask his mind to go ahead and heal. And then, his medicine. « Hey Galaad » he said right before sitting on the couch in front of his irish mate, « how' you doing ? ». Shannon tried to hide his painful gaze by smiling joyfully. He didn't even dare to ask if he was waiting for someone. He didn't really care, anyway. If Galaad was about to meet with a girl, oh well, Shannon would flee soon enough.
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Galaad N. Stomby

Galaad N. Stomby


NEUTRE
Le silence est une opinion.

NEUTRELe silence est une opinion.
| HIBOUX POSTÉS : 207
| AVATARS / CRÉDITS : Sebastian Stan
| SANG : (Presque) pur


Caractéristique du sorcier
| EPOUVANTARD : une cage menaçant de l'avaler et de l'emprisonner
| PATRONUS : un chat (vaguement)
| POINTS DE COMPÉTENCE :

Happy gaze through our pain | GALAAD Empty
MessageSujet: Re: Happy gaze through our pain | GALAAD Happy gaze through our pain | GALAAD EmptyMar 30 Juin - 22:11

ft. Shannon O'Mahony & some PTSD - end of June 1978

Sometimes i smoke it
then i sip it

The Leaky Cauldron was filled to the roof with people. It was as loud, joyful and inebriated as always. Galaad, on the other hand, would have surprised many of his friends by his attitude. Sitting alone in rather quiet pub's corner, he was watching his half emptied pint with a miserable look on his face. A gloomy sigh escaped his lips as he cleared the remaining beer in a single gulp.
He had hoped that getting a job or spending some time with his friends would have filled that void the Easter attack had created. And in a way, it had worked. But more as a distraction than as a real solution. Because as soon as his time at the Tsarducks was over, as soon as his friends were unavailable, Galaad felt lonelier, emptier than ever. And so was he there, tonight, all alone at the Leaky Cauldron, finishing his third drink of the night. A drink that would definitely not be the last, before he'd stagger back home to sleep a heavy, intoxicated sleep.

But before he knew it, someone had crashed into the couch facing him. And not any someone. Shannon O'Mahony. The sight of his irish mate managed to get a smile on Galaad's face, but his eyes remained as empty as his glass.
- I'm as good as I could be without a beer, he joked. His adventures with Shannon were rarely alcohol-free. They also seemed so long ago that they could have belonged to another life.
- It's good to see you here, he added in a low voice. He wasn't being polite. On the contrary, he couldn't have been more truthful. He had learnt about Shannon being severly injured during the Easter incident. But he hadn't find the courage in himself to visit him in Saint Mungo's. The sight of his friend lying in an hospital bed would have been to hard to endure, and Galaad was too much of a coward. The relief in his tone wasn't just because he was glad to see Shannon on his feet, though. His arrival also meant he wasn't alone with his thoughts anymore.
- So ... how have you been ? he asked, not wanting to confront the elephant in the room, but unable to avoid it completely.



Dernière édition par Galaad N. Stomby le Ven 3 Juil - 23:35, édité 1 fois
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https://thesquirrelart.tumblr.com/
Shannon O'Mahony

Shannon O'Mahony


ORDRE DU PHÉNIX
La meilleure défense, c'est l'attaque.

ORDRE DU PHÉNIXLa meilleure défense, c'est l'attaque.
| HIBOUX POSTÉS : 335
| AVATARS / CRÉDITS : Diego Luna | Sweetie Plum
| SANG : Né-moldu. D'ascendance irlandaise et colombienne.


Caractéristique du sorcier
| EPOUVANTARD : Lui-même, mort noyé, dévoré par les crabes.
| PATRONUS : Léopard des mers
| POINTS DE COMPÉTENCE :

Happy gaze through our pain | GALAAD Empty
MessageSujet: Re: Happy gaze through our pain | GALAAD Happy gaze through our pain | GALAAD EmptyMer 1 Juil - 20:53

Shannon heard about what happened for Galaad from... He didn't even remember. He didn't care too. The truth is that his irish lad had been there, as much as himself, and they were both injured in the terrorist attack. Thinking about the attack gave him goosebumps. All the time. And now, sitting in front of Galaad, he had them as well. He managed to put a smile on his face while the lad was responding to him in this traditionnal friendly way. He was the kind of man who could erase all of your sadness by his happy gaze. They met at a Quidditch match, and for once, Shannon was quite happy for being nice. « Likewise» he replied nicely. A waitress came and he ordered his traditionnal irish beer : baby guinness - for the win. Actually, he desperately needed a beer, or two - or three - to fall asleep. Only to fall asleep. Not to sleep well because he couldn't anymore, and he would do anything to have a normal night of twelve hours in a row.

The last question of the lad was nice, but Shannon wanted to avoid it so badly he thought, at first, to reply by shaking his head and remaining silent. But Galaad was a good man, maybe he, more than anyone else, could understand what he was living at the moment. On the other hand, Shannon being Shannon, he had this unacceptable way of ignoring his deepest needs. « Good. I guess » - oh well, Shannon, very well - « I mean. Am feelin' better outside of St Mungo's y'know ». The waitress came back, thanks god, hiding the blush on his cheeks and he added : « Hope you're doing better than me lad. I've heard of you being injured as well ». Shannon tried to smile, and drank a sip of his beer : « Fucking hell. Who would even think I'd feel safier in Colombia than in England ? ».
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En ligne
Galaad N. Stomby

Galaad N. Stomby


NEUTRE
Le silence est une opinion.

NEUTRELe silence est une opinion.
| HIBOUX POSTÉS : 207
| AVATARS / CRÉDITS : Sebastian Stan
| SANG : (Presque) pur


Caractéristique du sorcier
| EPOUVANTARD : une cage menaçant de l'avaler et de l'emprisonner
| PATRONUS : un chat (vaguement)
| POINTS DE COMPÉTENCE :

Happy gaze through our pain | GALAAD Empty
MessageSujet: Re: Happy gaze through our pain | GALAAD Happy gaze through our pain | GALAAD EmptySam 4 Juil - 0:22

ft. Shannon O'Mahony & some PTSD - end of June 1978

But if i die young
know the truth is further

They both ordered a drink, Galaad pondering whether or not he should go for something spicier than  a beer. In the end, he followed his mate's lead and asked for a pint of Guinness. That one beverage had the perk of being just slightly stronger than the usual Butterbeer, so he could keep up with the conversation. As Shannon replied his question, he recognized in his eyes the same shadow that clouded his own nights. His new found job had at least teached him to read the others, rather than focusing on his personal issues. And the dark circles under his friend's eyes were pretty eloquent - as did they mirror the ones Galaad himself was wearing.
- I know the feel dude, St Mungo's really has a way of making you feel like you're about to die, even once you're cured, he replied with a sigh, choosing to ignore Shannon's discomfort and deflecting it with his usual humour.

Galaad grabbed his beer and took a long sip. He was about to answer Shannon with another joke about his eyes injury, but the words died in his mouth. He could still feel the blood dripping on his cheeks, the screams around him made only stronger by the dark his wounds had dropped him into. A chill ran throught his back. This simple memory had been enough to make his palms sweaty. He wasn't feeling like joking anymore, so he shrouded, forced a stupid smile.
- I'm still breathing, y'know. And he was pretty lucky he could say that - many were not, on that Easter day. I feel like nowhere in the world is safe anymore, he added, much lower, his voice barely audible over the Leaky Cauldron's jabbering.
No wonder why he needed to drink, simply to survive throught another day. Some pills helped, too. Sometimes, he wondered how his friends could bear his way of living - it wasn't all rainbows and flowers before, still it had clearly deteriorated since the attack. But he usually shoved these questions away with a new pint. It would get better, with time. It had to.
- Ah, don't mind me, I'm just being my pathetic me, he bounced back, an empty smile finding the path to his face once again. He blinked really fast, but there were no tears in his eyes, right ? Quick, another sip to drive out the echoes of the Easter screams of terror and pain.

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https://thesquirrelart.tumblr.com/
Shannon O'Mahony

Shannon O'Mahony


ORDRE DU PHÉNIX
La meilleure défense, c'est l'attaque.

ORDRE DU PHÉNIXLa meilleure défense, c'est l'attaque.
| HIBOUX POSTÉS : 335
| AVATARS / CRÉDITS : Diego Luna | Sweetie Plum
| SANG : Né-moldu. D'ascendance irlandaise et colombienne.


Caractéristique du sorcier
| EPOUVANTARD : Lui-même, mort noyé, dévoré par les crabes.
| PATRONUS : Léopard des mers
| POINTS DE COMPÉTENCE :

Happy gaze through our pain | GALAAD Empty
MessageSujet: Re: Happy gaze through our pain | GALAAD Happy gaze through our pain | GALAAD EmptyDim 5 Juil - 11:53

Shannon had been through hell these past few months. He had no idea how to overcome his trauma, had no idea how to sleep well now, and finally he had no idea what to do to feel better. He had this strange feeling that he would never feel good again. As if, strangely, the death eaters took away what defined him in the depth of his mind. Galaad would probably understand that if he had the bravery to talk about that. Unfortunately, he was the kind of man who would never talk about something so personal. It's not that he didn't trust him - because really, he liked the lad quite a lot - but the truth is that Shannon had this unpleasant trend of remaining quiet about his personal issues. He struggled to keep a straight face. « Yer damn right » he replied, having a tortured grin on his face, « hate this shitty place ». During that silent moment, Shannon wondered if Galaad had nightmares like him. Despite that question, the irish man took a big sip of his beer, trying to process the question. Would he dare ask him that ?
Fortunately, the lad continued. Of course he was relieved to live. Shannon as well. But he could't get over his guilt. He was breathing, drinking with a friend at a table inside the Leaky Cauldron while others were dead. Including kids. Fucking dead. Cold, bones, graveyard. How to live knowing that ? « Others were more unlucky indeed » he tensely replied, looking at his beer, « don't even know if I feel lucky to live or guilty to do so ». Once again, a sip. Oh man one beer wouldn't be enough for that conversation. The irish man looked more intensely at his mate : « Yer workin' these days ? Doesn't it help you not to think 'bout that ? »  he asked. Galaad seemed to be as depressed as him.
If a painter came at them to draw them both, that would be a terrible and depressive painting at the end.
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