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Destructive Passions

Young Aspirations

A brush of her vibrant hair and a brief, undignified snort provided Magnus enough cause for dismissal; already turning from his mother's presence as he attempted to escape the threatening chill that now enveloped the room. The eloquent, staunchly postured woman frowned, leaning forward in finality as her elbows met her knees. "Son, you can't keep living your own personal fantasies. Do you know how many complaints your father has received because of your little spectacles?" She announced, reaching the young boy's ears with a shrillness; Magnus' gaze fell quietly to the floor. He continued in his stride, making his way closer and closer to the door that rested just along the far-end of the chamber."You can't just hold puppet shows for the humans or set off explosions for fun, do you know how low that is? Our ingredient stores have better purposes, you know? Don't run away from your responsibilities, Magnus. You may be young, but that doesn't mean you can just ignore your teachings. We're alchemists, Magnus...that's what the world expects from us." She complained, nestling back into the comfort of her recliner.
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The bluenette stopped, glancing back over his shoulder to thoughtfully eye his mother. His scan for sincerity registered nothing, but he turned to face her nonetheless. He pursed his lips, hands falling to his pockets as he consciously judged her disapproval. "But, I don't like alchemy." The child proposed in confusion, seemingly awaiting her reaction. His mother didn't say a word, wondering where she may have went wrong with this rebellious child. She loved him, of course she did, but his thoughts wandered to a place far unlike the one she'd envisioned for him. Fear rested in her eyes now, not for her status, but for the safety of her son. "What do you want to do, then, Magnus?" She resigned, the boy smiling almost instantaneously. The air underneath his feet returned, making his way back toward the center of the room. "Actually, I had these great ideas I wanted to share with you!" Magnus spouted, his child-like wonder returning as he reached for the journal that hung loosely from his tiny waist. "Seeeeeee! I thought it'd be cool if-" His words trailed off within his mother's ears, her own smile returning as she welcomed the boy into her lap. Her irises shone, her doubts disappearing as she simply held Magnus within her arms. Perhaps he would do well for himself...whatever path he chose.
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What's Ow(l)ed

Personal problems always appeared worse than they actually were, always. Everything kept dramatized and suspended by the endless machinations of a youthful, addled mind: Magnus suffered the same agonizing process that every young adult went through at some point in their twenties. With little idea of what he wanted to do next with his allotted time on this planet, the male turned to his steadfast journal; his boots clacking together lightly as the tram carted him off to the next station. The pages that littered the notebook laid scrawled with countless schemes: numerous inventions that'd yet to come to light. Things that the male only dreamed of within the deepest corners of his imagination, in hopes that they would one day better the world. He'd not the resources nor the social prowess to make any of them happen, especially at his age, given he was just into his twenties, but he planned on making that situation change.
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The sooner he moved up in his coven, the better off he'd be for the future that he'd constructed for himself. He'd laid the bricks, and set himself apart in a home of his own. All he needed to do was travel the path that led there. Easier said than done, but Magnus had high hopes. His parents still didn't approve of his straying away from alchemy, but they'd learned to accept his course. Nothing they said would move him. He was his own man, even if he wasn't old enough to legally claim such a title completely. He knew in himself that this was true...but he still had to answer to his parents. They paid for his abode and, being the social elites they were, would introduce him to the people who would be influential to him soon enough. He didn't care much for being part of an upper class...but it did have its benefits...didn't it? The bluenette frowned, peering over the other denizens that filtered in around him. They didn't seem the slightest bit interested in his scribbles...but why would they be? For now he'd stick to what he did best...anything...for the right amount. His dreams needed funding, and his illusions of grandeur would bring him to where he wanted to be...hopefully.