Fox Hunting {Salem}{M - language}

[Salem Oldwood]

Salem chuckled, reached over to Melville with a cigarette, a smirk stretching from ear to ear.

"If you insist, sir."

As soon as Melville had grabbed it, Salem snapped his fingers. The cigarette lit easily, smoked to life.

"You know, I used to think that trick was so cool." Salem joked, settling back in his chair. The tennis girls were done practicing, leaving the field cold and deserted. Salem ran through a mental list of who was doing what and where. Nothing else in the field. "But then I realized that anybody could do it, with enough practice. Doesn't seem so fun, anymore."

[(Seth) Melville]

He tentatively took the cigarette in his hands, half expecting it to blow up as soon as he took in a breath. Slowly, he pressed it to his lips, feeling the coolness wash over him, the buzz rushing through his body. He looked at the cigarette, saying "Blood hell, is there crack in this or something?" looking in sudden approval.

He moved away from his own worry, focusing on what Salem was saying, "Well, its like those magicians when you're a kid, isn't it. They're still alright to watch when you know how, and to wind up people by not telling them how you did it. You just need the right audience." he said, taking another deep drag.

[Salem Oldwood]

"Crack? Nah. It's... pixie dust." Salem said with a grin, leaning back. "I'm surprised your lungs didn't go. Though maybe that comes after two puffs. I dunno."

Salem concentrated on the other's words, nodding slightly. "I guess so. Yeah, that's it... but, you know, we're in a school of magic students. I mean, just yesterday I saw some kid make a recreation of some other kid. In ice. Out of nowhere. It's like, how do you match up to that?"

[(Seth) Melville]

He gave him a snide look, though did stop taking in the cigarette's fumes, just in case he hadn't been joking. He held it lightly in his mouth, letting the fire burn away the joke cigarette at a startling rate.

He shrugged, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and letting it burn away in his fingers. "I don't know why you care." he told him honestly, "Why try? There's always going to be someone better than you, unless you make something no ones ever thought of before. Or you make them too scared to question you."

[Salem Oldwood]

"Well, that's what I'm trying to do!"

Salem grabbed the cigarette back, holding both of them in his mouth, not seeming to mind the extra chemicals sliding down his throat with every inhale.

"Do something, try something... BE something nobody's ever thought of before! There's so much possibility with magic, so many things you can do that you couldn't do before! I want to find all those possibilities and make 'em my own."

Salem sighed, leaning back against the chair, pupils quite a bit dilated.

"You wouldn't understand, of course. You'll probably just use it to... make women's tits jiggle more or something."

[(Seth) Melville]

He gave Salem a sideways look, finishing the last of his drink and chucking it down. All of the girls were gone now, and so the glass fell onto an empty pitch, shattering beautifully. Melville watched with a rather bored look on his face, just trying to distract himself from the conversation. "You know what your problem is?" he asked, standing up slowly, groaning out the aches and pains in his body, "You think way too much." he said, picking up the cool box.

"I'll catch you later, OK?" he said. There was no point in staying now that the lesson was over, and if his so called friend was going to talk about nothing but his true feelings, Melville thought he would rather be elsewhere.

[Salem Oldwood]

Salem watched the glass shatter. It sparkled in the sun; the sun that had, suddenly, removed it's cloud dressings and revealed itself, sparkling on the shards of light that littered the ground.

"Hmm? No kiss good-bye?"

Salem laughed, pushing himself out of his chair.

"You know, I have places to go as well. So, I guess I'll see you later."

He paused, ran a hand through his hair, then glanced over at Melville and winked.

"Channel 3." was all he said, before taking off down the field. Halfway down Melville's field of vision, he promptly vanished into thin air.

And all that was left was the cold.

-fin-