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| Of Essays and Attraction | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 7 2010, 01:44 PM (365 Views) | |
| Nicholas Diederik | Sep 7 2010, 01:44 PM Post #1 |
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Arithmancy homework was never very fun. Even if Nicho was good at maths, it was still a pain in the arse to sit and figure out what numerological value the life of Herbert Winecaster meant in regard to the Troll War of 1214. Like anyone really gave a damn. Solving a mystery of the ancient world of magic through number divination and calculation, sure. That seemed like a halfway decent way to spend your days. Figuring out why Salena Donafrio was important to magical transportation, however, did not. Deep down, Nicho knew that the class was meant to be an introduction into the complicated world of Arithmancy; not a training course for the Department of Mysteries. But, he figured that if they were learning something useful, they may as well make it fun, rather than tossing ridiculous historical facts at them. Perhaps the problem was that Nicho liked to know things that other people did not. Standard textbook learning did very little to stimulate his charisma in the classroom. After his third hour, and second foot long roll of parchment, Nicho tossed his quill into the ink jar. He was ready to give up. Everything he had written sounded so formal, bookish, and less personal and interpreted. It felt fake. Like some of the porcelain girls that roamed the halls of Hogwarts thirsting after the blokes. Running a hand through his hair, he leaned back and closed his eyes, heaving a big sigh. If he didn't write the essay, Professor Haddad would give him a T and it would compromise his chance of continuing his Prefect duties. That would take away from his very limited perks at Hogwarts. He sighed again and sat up straight. If he could only get the numbers to make sense, to make them work for Winecaster's obtuse notion that Wizards should fight alongside of Trolls, then he could finish the essay and be done with it. His eyes scanned the common room, searching out Rourke or Matthews. They might be able to provide some insight. Anything. Something that he wasn’t seeing. They weren't around. Actually, the common room was relatively deserted, with only four other students stuck inside of it, each clinging to a quill and bending over parchment. Except for one. Nicho's jade eyes met the vibrant blue eyes of Gareth Twain. There was a vague shiver of something that ran through his body, but he stuffed it aside for the sake of other interests. He knew Twain wasn't a cock up. On top of his undeniable good looks, he was intelligent. An amiable smirk upturned the corners of Nicho's lips as he raised a hand and invited Gareth to join him on the dark green sofa. They had worked on practical Arithmancy together in class; he had no doubt that the bloke would be useful in helping him with his essay. Nicho wasn't a very loud person by any means, and so even when he raised his voice to call across the room, it was still relatively quiet. "Think you could give me a hand with this, Twain?" |
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| Gareth Twain | Sep 7 2010, 03:01 PM Post #2 |
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Gare had most of his homework done - with the exception of that last bit on his potions essay; a part he still needed to go research in the Library, but couldn't be arsed to do right now. He still had an entire week before he had to hand it in anyway. With most of his homework done, though, Gare found himself quite bored. He supposed he could go out and look for his best friend - Jace was always whining Gare was inside too much anyway and needed to loosen up; he seemed to have forgotten about the one time Gare had actually taken him up on the offer to go do shots in the Hog's Head and had promptly drunk Jace under the table. It was okay. Had it been Gare in his position, he wouldn't have wanted to remember it either. Somehow, though, Gare felt like simply sitting in his Common Room and enjoying the silence. Most people were out and about with the weekend rapidly approaching, catching that last bit of sun before autumn would roll around, or studying in the Library to get those last essays done. So far, nothing of much interest had happened, but Gare didn't quite mind. He was sitting comfortably by the fire and he felt relaxed. Also, Nicholas Diederik wasn't sitting that far from him, bent over an essay and not concentrating on much else it seemed, so it gave Gare the perfect opportunity to observe the boy - or as Jace would've jokingly said: Ogle him. Just as well. Gareth wasn't going to deny his interest in the bloke, at least not to himself. The chance that Diederik would ever find out about it was slim to none - they never actually talked outside those few classes they had together and Gare didn't really feel the need to do so. To others, it might have been weird. Why not take the chance and at least try to get to know the object of your interest? It's not like he had anything to lose - Gare wouldn't be exactly heartbroken. It was just the mystery surrounding this boy that had Gare attracted to him in the first place - it didn't hurt that Diederik was quite good looking either. There was something quiet about Diederik, something slightly different. Gareth was afraid that if he actually made effort to get to know the boy better, he would be left disappointed when he found out there was nothing there at all. Sure, he knew Diederik was intelligent - they'd been partnered up a few times together anyway - but to Gare, it took more than good looks and intelligence to be interesting. And just because Gare thought there was something interesting about him, didn't mean it was actually true. He'd tried explaining this to Jace, but he'd only gotten an eyeroll and a "you're mad, you know that?" for his efforts. Deep down Gare knew Jace was quite right about that, but whatever. In all his musings, he hadn't noticed Diederik looking up at him, until their eyes locked and Gare felt his mouth go a little dry. The sudden eyecontact didn't surprise him as much as the invitation to join the other boy, though - well, here was his chance to get to know him better; or at least have one convesation outside class. Gare decided he should very well take it. Getting up from his seat at the boy's inquiry, he went over to him and canted his head downwards to see what it was Diederik apparantly need his help with. Arithmancy. Ah, that made sense - he'd had difficulties with that one too. Haddad thought it would be fun to give everyone a different subject to interpret - it would lower the possibilities of people copying from each other. As far as that was true, it definitely didn't help his popularity with the students; Gare himself also thought Haddad was a bit of a dumbass. "Did you use the Aggripan Method for all your calculations?" he asked, deciding to sit down - it was more polite. "If so, you might also want to try the Chaldean Method," Gare lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug, "It's older and based on the Hebrew language instead of the Latin language - haven't found a mention of it in the book at all, but I still have the Library book I used for it, if you want to take a look at that," he raised his gaze to look at Diederik's face. "Or was it something more specific you wanted help with?" he added, smiling a little. "What subject did you get for the essay anyway?" |
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| Nicholas Diederik | Sep 8 2010, 04:36 PM Post #3 |
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The subtle invasion of Gareth's spicy scent caused Nicho to turn his face minutely to the side to watch the other boy. He had penetrating blue eyes, scanning his ridiculous formula and essay, and a defined jawline sporting a very fine layer of stubble. A very out of place feeling slicked along Nicho's stomach as he dragged his eyes away from Twain's face and back to his parchment. He watched it, his eyes narrowing slightly as if the parchment had caused him offense. Really, he was attempting to sort out what that weird, tingling feeling in his throat was and how it corresponded to the closeness he was sharing with his fellow Slytherin. "Did you use the Aggripan Method for all your calculations?" As Gareth sat next to him, Nicho nodded silently, still staring at the parchment. "If so, you might also want to try the Chaldean Method. It's older and based on the Hebrew language instead of the Latin language." Chaldean Method? There were two bloody methods? Haddad had managed to give him an essay that wouldn't encompass what they learned in class, but what he was supposed to go out and research. For a moment, he considered smacking himself in the head as if to knock sense in there. But he kept himself calm and collected in front of his company. "-haven't found a mention of it in the book at all, but I still have the Library book I used for it, if you want to take a look at that." Gareth raised his gaze to look at Nicho's face. Nicho could feel his eyes watching him, and turned his gaze to Gareth's, meeting his eyes. "Or was it something more specific you wanted help with?" he added, smiling a little. "What subject did you get for the essay anyway?" Nicholas drew in another shallow breath, inhaling the unique flavor of Twain's scent. It was comforting in a way, reminding him of the feeling of a distant memory that he couldn't quite work out the details to. His voice was even and low, contrasting the satirical smirk that his mouth had adopted. "Herbert Winecaster." Scooting his body further back into the sofa, he drew up a leg and turned his body to the side so that he was facing Gareth. His arm reached out onto the length of the back of the sofa, balancing him. His hand just behind Twain's shoulder. "Honestly. Why did the most vicious, barbaric politician in the history of Wizard-kind decide to battle alongside trolls in war?" He rolled his eyes in a playful way. "Using the Aggripan Method, I calculate that he was a four. Not a very intelligent and practical bloke, though, old Herb." Nicho's smile widened quickly, and then was gone in almost a second. He glanced back to his parchment and let his hand release it so that it fluttered back to the table. Rearranging his body again, he leaned forward at the stomach, plucked his quill out of the ink jar and attempted to use the Chaldean Method on Herbert Winecaster. He stuck his tongue out as he added up the numbers, counting under his breath. Six. He rose slowly from his bent position, tossed the quill onto the parchment and threw himself back into the sofa. Facing the chandelier above his head, he sighed and put his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. "A six. Nurturing and loveable? Bloody hell. Neither of these answer the question 'How does his numerological value correspond to his role in the Troll War of 1214.'" Edited by Nicholas Diederik, Sep 8 2010, 04:42 PM.
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| Gareth Twain | Sep 8 2010, 06:44 PM Post #4 |
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The name Herbert Winecaster didn't ring a bell in Gare's mind - but that could be because of Diederik's sudden closeness, as the boy angled his body towards him and put a hand on the back of the sofa; a hand that, if Gare would lean back into the sofa, he would probably feel pressing into his shoulder. So he refrained from doing just that, putting his elbows on his knees instead, and resting his chin on top of his clasped hands - of course, that only resulted in him getting even closer to his fellow Slytherin. So close, in fact, that he could see Diederik's eyes had a rather nice jade colour and he also had a rather snoggable set of lips - but Gare drew his mind back from that train of thought before it could carry him too far. Snorting softly at Diederik's words, his eyes filling with humour, he let out a soft humming noise and unconsciously licked his bottom lip. "Not very intelligent and practical at all," he agreed dryly. "Maybe he felt a kinship with them? Barbaric, vicious and apparantly not the brightest tool in the box, they should've been best mates, really." The sudden, wide smile that disappeared just as fast as it had appeared on Diederik's face took Gare by surprise and left him with the same rather breathless feeling he'd gotten when their eyes had locked that first time - not something he wanted to delve too deep into at that point. But it had been a surprise seeing a smile on the boy's face, who usually looked quite stoic, from what Gare had been able to observe. It hadn't looked bad on him either. Sitting back up, he drew a hand through his hair, unknowingly increasing his just-rolled-out-of-bed look so many blokes were apparantly jealous off - at least if he'd have to believe Jace. Diederik was busy calculating Winecaster's new number, the hand that had been previously on the back of the sofa gone and Gare leaned back into the sofa with a soft sigh. Apparantly, whatever the other boy had gotten, it didn't really work out either considering the force with which Diederik threw himself back into the sofa and the exasparated look in his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling. Short laugh escaping his throat at Diederik's exclamation, Gare schooled his look into one of mock-seriousness and said, "Well, isn't it obvious? Winecaster's viciousness was clearly just a sham, covering up for his soft and peace-loving nature - because who would want a treehugger as politician in that day and age? Deep down he probably just thought trolls were a severely misunderstood race and needed some love too," his voice was deadpan, before his face creased into a smile and he rolled his eyes. "Haddad would probably let you get away with that too, if you'd write it down. This entire assignment is rather idiotic - clearly a testament to the guy's intelligence. Or lack thereof." He pursed his lips a little, small frown appearing between his eyebrows. "What if you don't use the character number but rather the social number to try and interpret Winecaster's decision to fight alongside trolls - it's all about politics and social bonds, isn't it? Although why someone would want a social bond with a bunch of bloodthirsty trolls is rather beyond me." Gare was rather glad he'd still gotten something a bit more random for his Arithmancy assignment, although calculating why Thaddeus Thurkell had deemed it necessary to turn his seven squib sons into hedgehog's and what it had contributed to the growing dislike for muggles and squibs and want for blood supremacy didn't exactly have him whooping for joy either - at least it had been a bit more entertaining than Winecaster and his trolls. Edited by Gareth Twain, Sep 8 2010, 07:00 PM.
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| Nicholas Diederik | Sep 21 2010, 03:58 PM Post #5 |
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Nicho couldn't help the snort of laughter that burst out of his lips as Twain so wittingly and sarcastically answered his essay with all of the intelligence of their Arithmancy professor himself. He had it right, though. If he'd write down that 1214 politicians were different from the politicians of the present day, Haddad would have no choice but to mark his paper as passable. Unfortunately, Nicho wanted - and needed - a lot better than passable. As humorous as the idea was, he'd have to give it a miss. Turning his face to look Twain in the eyes, a habit that had formed straight from Nicho's childhood, he made to say just that. Great idea, not good enough. He was struck, however, with the rather attractive, thoughtful look on his housemate's face. It was strange how he'd never noticed... it didn't matter. With one last sweeping glance along the boy's face, Nicho shook the thoughts from his head and reminded himself that they were inappropriate, especially of someone who was attempting to help him through the most ridiculous homework assignment to date. "What if you don't use the character number but rather the social number to try and interpret Winecaster's decision to fight alongside trolls - it's all about politics and social bonds, isn't it?" Hm. Nicho squished his lips over to the side, chewing on his gums as he thought that through. "Nurturing the bonds... That could work," he mumbled through tight lips. He reached forward a skinny arm and grasped his quill with a new angle in mind. "Although why someone would want a social bond with a bunch of bloodthirsty trolls is rather beyond me." Nicho's dark hair fell into his eyes at the exact moment that a smirk upturned his lips. To some, it was a look of deviousness. To Nicho, it indicated amusement. He wasn't very good at separating the two, anyway. He turned his face half to the side and let his eyes travel up and down Gareth's face for a split second before honing in on his vibrant eyes. The smirk that had ghosted his lips had vanished. "My great-Uncle Euclid married a troll," he said flatly, setting down his quill. The numbers would work, he was sure. He'd figure it out later. "Had little troll babies. Shame on the family, of course." Reaching up to his shoulder, Nicho flicked a speck of fuzz from his robes and then turned back to Gareth and allowed a smile to grace his face. "Little vicious brats that like to chew on visitor's legs. 'Least she can bear children." It was always an argument he heard from his mother whenever he introduced her to a new boyfriend. 'You'll never have children, Nicholas. At least Uncle Euchlid has them. You've seen his troll of a wife! Can't you just-?' To be quite honest, Nicho had listed one of the reasons on his list for being gay as "uncle Euchlid's wife." "Perhaps Winecaster wanted to create an army of half-troll babies." Nicho shrugged and leaned back against the sofa again. "What's got you stuck in the common room today, Twain?" |
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| Gareth Twain | Sep 22 2010, 04:44 AM Post #6 |
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Nicholas had very pretty eyes - Gare couldn't help the rather gay thought from crossing his mind as their eyes locked once again. They were a peculiar shade of green, almost jade, the colour a shade colder than the sunny green colour of Jace's eyes and... what the fuck was he even thinking about anyway? Blinking once to get his mind on track again - namely, the arithmancy homework he'd been asked to help with - he almost missed what Diederik said next. "My great-Uncle Euclid married a troll," Gare's eyes widened, before tightening around the corners, so far the only indication he was trying to hold back a laugh. "Well," he said delicately, "your uncle is a man of rather peculiar tastes, then." Of course, with a name like Euclid, Gare supposed he shouldn't be surprised - he sounded like the sort of man with a pedo-moustache and a stuffed animal collection. Not that Gare should be one to talk - he had a great-Aunt called Hadewisa and Gare had always thought she did like those cats a little too much. At Diederik's last comment, the laugh he'd been trying to hold in escaped his lips and he cocked his head. "Speaking from personal experience, perhaps? And you say that she can bear children like it's a good thing," he added with a faintly horrified expression on his face - not bothering to ask what Nicholas had meant by that last part. It wasn't any of his business anyway. "Perhaps Winecaster wanted to create an army of half-troll babies." "Hmm, yes," Gare supplied with an exagerated thoughtful expression, "chewing limbs everywhere they go. No one would've seen that coming - it's genius." Gare's gaze travelled briefly towards the scroll of parchment on the desk, quil lying next to it and he felt a quick pang of anticipation and nervousness as he realized that Diederik was apparently done with asking for help and now wanted to simply talk instead - Gare didn't particularly mind, it's just that he'd never really been good at simple conversation, instead having the tact and social grace of a blunt knife - Jace knew this, but others didn't and well... He'd never know if he didn't try, at least. And so far, talking to Nicholas hadn't proved to be boring like he'd feared at first. "It's Gareth," he offered. "And I don't really have a reason," he added with a shrug. "Didn't feel like going anywhere - and in here at least, I have no chance of Brenner suddenly popping up behind the corner again, because I can bear being called a faggot only so many times before I snap and give him a vagina," his tone had turned blunt and he suddenly froze a little, realizing what he had said. See, that was why he usually didn't really bother - his tendency to be too straight forward and having an insipid love-affair with sarcasm had made many people label him as a weirdo. And normally he didn't care, but oddly enough, now he did find himself caring. "What about you?" he ploughed on. "I mean, after the homework, have any plans?" |
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| Nicholas Diederik | Sep 24 2010, 05:04 PM Post #7 |
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Nicho watched Gareth curiously. He'd never known very many people to be uncomfortable in his presence; usually they appreciated the silence, or the fact that he didn't care much for the impressions people made. But, Gareth seemed very on edge. Nicho tried to relax himself, hoping that would help loosen the situation. He didn't have any delusions about not coming off as a moody git. "It's Gareth. And I really don't have a reason. Didn't feel like going anywhere - and in here at least, I have no chance of Brenner suddenly popping up behind the corner again, because I can bear being called a faggot only so many times before I snap and give him a vagina." He blinked. A vagina? Was it even possible to give someone a vagina? Whatever attempt at humor that Gareth was using was completely lost on Nicho. Perhaps it was a well constructed metaphor for "big, gaping hole in his face." Though, with a shudder, Nicho thought about the slut that would own that vagina. If there was anyone, it was Brenner. After the acceptable amount of passing time, Nicho finally let a little chuckle escape. Luckily, he was saved from having to explain his random, out of place laugh by Gareth changing the subject back onto him. "No, no plans," he said dully. “Pretty sure I heard Matthews was out and about, and when he’s running through the corridors…” Everyone knew that bloke was probably mentally retarded. His fingers traveled down to a loose thread on the edge of his sweater, and he twirled it around lazily. His eyes stayed focused on Gareth, only because of the years of respect pounded into him by his grandfather. Eye contact was essential to convey respect. What he didn't expect, however, was how attractive he'd find the object of his gaze. A strong face structure, deep, intense blue eyes and the shadow of stubble he'd not shaved off yet. He was an odd bloke, but Nicho couldn't deny his appeal. And, add to it the fact that he was gay... well, Nicho would just tuck that away for a later date. Halting his perusal of Gareth's face, Nicho smiled a bit crookedly. Silence. There was really nothing more to say. Anything else would be pointless, idle chatter. He didn't care much to discuss things that made no difference. Efficiency was his hobby. Sad as it was. Turns out, they didn't need another boring topic of conversation. Axel clambered into the common room and his eyes immediately, viciously sought out the gay pair sitting on the sofa. Together. Looking uncomfortably cozy. "Wonderful," Nicho intoned, averting his gaze from Axel. He didn't want trouble, and it was bound to happen with that miserable chap in the house. “Look at the cute little couple,” Axel said malevolently, a wicked smirk twisting the corners of his mouth. While he was an attractive bloke, he was also a prick. A homophobic, asshole prick. “You know, if you two insist on displaying your disgusting relationship in the open, one of you should at least have the decency to wear a dress.” “Bugger off,” Nicho muttered. His eyes narrowed, a faint blush on his sharp features. |
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| Gareth Twain | Sep 24 2010, 07:52 PM Post #8 |
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Gareth relaxed in his seat, chuckling lightly at Nicho's comment about Matthews - it was true, the bloke was absolutely mental. He and his merry band of friends, Bancroft and that Gryffindor - McSomething. Last rumour he'd heard about them was that they'd managed to get into a fight with Brenner - it was always Brenner, wasn't it? - resulting in a sword fight in the Armour Gallery. Some talked about Bancroft getting cleaved in half. Other talked about Matthews accidentally chopping his own head off in all his enthousiasm - since both Bancroft and Matthews had still been in his today's potion class, he didn't put much stock in those rumours. With a little start, he pulled his mind back to the present and found himself looking right into Nicho's eyes, who was looking at him with a silent intensity and Gare couldn't shake the thought he was somehow being graded - far from being shy, though, Gare just stared right back, head cocked a little to the side, his lips twitching a little as Nicho smiled crookedly - to people who didn't know better, it must've looked rather romantic. Axel was one of those people. Following Nicho's gaze as the Slytherin entered the common room, cruel gaze immediately zoning in on them, Gare could only agree wholeheartedly with Nicho's statement - Axel always spelled trouble. Being just as close-minded - maybe even more so because of his upbringing - and homophobic as Brenner, he was thrice as dangerous, since what he lacked in brute force, he made up with a cold and cunning cruelty only the best Slytherin could posess. It didn't mean any of his taunts were in any way witty, though. “Look at the cute little couple,” the bloke stated and immediately Gare's entire demeanor changed. Relaxing all the way, he let an amiable little smile grace his features as he looked up at Axel - in contrast to his eyes that were glittering coldly. “You know, if you two insist on displaying your disgusting relationship in the open, one of you should at least have the decency to wear a dress.” It was rather pathetic that the concept of small talk with someone that fascinated him and he might even like put him on edge like no one's business, but when it came to confrontations, he totally felt in his element. People like Brenner and even Axel, who for all his cunning wasn't any more intelligent than the burly Gryffindor, made it too easy for Gareth - and he'd never been one to ignore an obvious insult to who he was like that. Besides, people like Axel and Brenner never expected their victims to talk back. They expected people to react either like Nicho had just reacted, or to just bow their heads and take it. Fuck that. "You mean like the one you are wearing right now?" Gare's gaze flickered briefly over the navy blue, very expensive-looking, specially tailored robes Axel was wearing - perks of having a filthy rich family, Gare supposed. Or well, perks. Those tailored robes did look very poncy - a bit rich of Axel to tell them to wear a dress when he wore clothes most of the wizarding population labeled as 'the sort of robes every gay wizard simply had to have in their closet!' "What an excellent suggestion indeed. If I ever feel like cross-dressing, you'll be my first go to person," his smile got a little wider, his gaze a little colder and more challenging. He chanced a look at Nicho, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you agree those robes do hug his hips so very well?" The effect was immediate - Axel's smile fell off his face and got replaced with cold rage, his mouth twisted in a disgusted sneer. Way too easy, Gare thought again. "Listen you little faggot," Axel started, leaning forward menacingly - the exact thing Gare had been waiting for, because before Axel could even register anything had happened, Gare's hand had shot out to grab the other boy's throat, fingers only pressing lightly but still effectively cutting off Axel's air supply - handy little move his father had taught him. The only thing that kept Gare from upping the pressure was the sudden appearance of Axel's friends at his side - protecting the poor helpless guy from two dangerous poufs like good little lapdogs. "Big mouth for someone who can't take us on alone," Gare said in a soft voice, the amiable tone now laced with something more dangerous and cutting. "Coward" Edited by Gareth Twain, Sep 24 2010, 07:53 PM.
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| Nicholas Diederik | Sep 24 2010, 09:02 PM Post #9 |
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“You mean the one you are wearing right now?” Nicho couldn’t help the snort of a laugh that came from his throat. If they were going to do this, then he supposed Gareth had started them off on the right foot, at least. “What an excellent suggestion indeed. If I ever feel like cross-dressing, you’ll be my first go to person.” Nicho stared straight at Gareth. Was he trying to get pummeled? Normally, Nicho preferred to keep his nose out, head down, get through it and over it. He knew the way that people talked about him, and others with his sexual preference. It bothered him very little anymore. But, as his eyes met Gareth’s he couldn’t help but think that, perhaps, not everyone could let things go that simply. “Don’t you agree those robes do hug his hips so very well?” “What hips?” Nicho said lowly, turning his gaze back to Axel, who was fuming. The roll of fury was violently crashing into the atmosphere. “Listen you little faggot-” And that’s when Nicho’s mask had dropped from his face. Gareth had stunned him with the speed and ferocity of a defensive lynx. The moment when Gareth’s hand reached out to circle Axel’s neck, well, his eyes practically jumped from their sockets. He had only a beat to collect himself. Axel’s mate came to his side, long, greasy hair hanging into his gaunt face in what should have been an intimidating way. That whole gothic look had fallen out as soon as the Muggles thought it was cool. Seeing Axel’s smirk at Gareth, a kind of challenge like ‘what will you do now?’ sparked something aggressive inside of Nicho. Something he kept locked down. Not missing a single moment, he whipped his wand out from his pocket and stabbed it straight into Hugh’s jugular. A spiteful smirk twisted its way onto his face. He raised one eyebrow, daring Hugh to reach for Gareth. “Big mouth for someone who can’t take us on alone. Coward.” Nicho didn’t have to look at Twain to see the warning radiating from him. Hugh put his hand on Axel’s shoulder, but was shrugged off with a jerk and a menacing growl. Nicho pressed his wand harder into Hugh’s throat, silently telling him to back off. This was Gareth’s battle, no one else’s. “I’m not the slightest bit scared of a pouf like you, Twain,” Axel spit, though it was his eyes that were deceiving him. Nicho watched a droplet splash onto Gareth’s cheek and had the strangest urge to wipe it off. Instead, he ran through a list of spells he could possibly use should things get too out of control. “Probably afraid to break a fucking nail.” Axel pulled away from Gareth’s hold and immediately put a hand to his throat to assess the damage. Nicho didn’t relent his threat on Hugh until Axel had taken enough paces backward. The two boys stared at Gareth and Nicho on the couch, unmoving from their original places. “Watch your back,” Axel warned with Hugh grunt-laughing at his side. “Maybe next time lover boy won’t be here to call us off.” Nicho growled and stood up quickly, feeling Gareth mimic his movement. For whatever reason, he’d assess it later, the threat directed at Gareth pissed him off something fierce. His wand was aimed between Axel’s eyes. “Get the fuck out of here, before I show you the spells your father thinks you’re too much of a Nancy to use.” A few moments passed in silence as the four boys stared each other down. And then Axel and his little pup backed away and left the common room. Nicho relaxed as soon as the portrait slammed shut, though he kept his wand at the ready, knowing that you never let your guard down until you were absolutely sure the battle was won. “What a goddamn asshole,” he said in a voice much louder than he normally used. |
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| Gareth Twain | Sep 25 2010, 08:08 AM Post #10 |
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Truth of the matter was that Gare could actually care less about what was being said about him or to him - unless someone brought up Jace - and he could let everything that was said about his sexuality or his lack of social grace pass by without so much as a second glance. The reason Gare always talked back, though, always made out as if he somehow couldn't let it drop, was because it was fun. It was fun to see people get all flustered or angry when he started using his sarcasm - he hadn't been kidding when he'd told Jace after his last meeting with Brenner that thrill and adventure were things he was after. Riling up people, especially those people that just didn't know how to quit, was something he was good at - and when Jace was there alongside him, simply going with everything Gare said, it was even more fun. He couldn't really explain this weird attitude of him to anyone beside Jace - most people would think he just liked starting fights and that just wasn't true. Gare didn't like getting beat up. He just liked knowing he could get under people's skin with just a few choice words - especially people who prided themselves on being cold and unemotional and cunning like Axel and his ilk. Nicho surprised him, though. Gareth hadn't really given Hugh a second glance - despite being Slytherin, he was as dumb as the backside of a cow - even though he knew he didn't really have a chance if Hugh did decide to reach for him, so when Nicho suddenly pulled out his wand and jabbed it at Hugh's throat with a menacing finality just like Jace would've done, he felt a sudden unexpected surge of fondness for the other boy, making his stomach flutter slightly. “I’m not the slightest bit scared of a pouf like you, Twain,” Gare only grinned at those words - the spark of fear in Axel's eyes belied his words and Gare considered the exciting part of this conversation over: His job had been done. “Probably afraid to break a fucking nail.” Gare released his grip on Axel's throat and chuckled, coldness gone from his gaze and replaced by a detached amusement. "Such originality from you never ceases to amaze me," he retorted in a dry tone. “Watch your back,” Axel warned with Hugh grunt-laughing at his side. “Maybe next time lover boy won’t be here to call us off.” Gare had been about to reply with his usual flippancy, when Nicho next to him let out a growl that made a certain part of his anatomy stand up and salute and he blinked as the other boy got up from the couch, wand pointed at Axel, obviously more angry at Axel's threat than Gare, even though it had been meant for Gare. Getting up himself to somehow hold Nicho back if the boy decided to jump Axel - it was an automatic reaction, something he always did when Jace got into one of his 'fuck off or die' moods. “Get the fuck out of here, before I show you the spells your father thinks you’re too much of a Nancy to use.” Gare waited until Axel and his friend were finally out of the common room before he turned to look at Nicho with a thoughtful gaze. Despite Nicho's angry exclamation, Gare didn't know what the other boy was thinking right now. Perhaps he was pissed off at Gare too for even trying to get a rile out of Axel and having to reach for his wand, perhaps he was really concerned for Gare or concerned for himself - Gare didn't know and it frustrated him. "He's such a closeted homosexual," he offers with a small grin, although his words were meant seriously enough. "So deep in the closet he's probably already earned himself a full citizenship in Narnia." Gare's gaze turned to the Slytherin common room entrance through which Axel had left. "He hates us a little too much, if you know what I mean." Leaving the throught hanging, he lifted his shoulders in a shrug and drew a hand through his hair. "I think I'm going to look for Jace. Good luck with the assignment," he made to walk past Nicho, but stopped when he was standing next to the other boy, turning his head to the side to look at Nicho's profile, before lifting a hand and curling his fingers over the boy's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Thanks." Edited by Gareth Twain, Sep 25 2010, 10:02 AM.
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8:46 PM Jul 10