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sweetpinkpixie · 02-09-2016, 05:37 AM

SPOILER!!: the kid who brought it aaaaaaaaaaaaaall on himself

Quote:

Originally Posted by Felixir

Twenty-four hours. Like this. Like this?

Airey Flamsteed had not outright said that, but it seemed to be what he was getting at. There was a good chance Daxton misunderstood, though, as he tended to misunderstand people when they were not completely straightforward. Nevertheless, hearing 'twenty-four hours' gave him a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, like there was a tight fist of panic squeezing at his insides. He attempted to take a deep, steadying breath, which ultimately failed as he felt compelled to take another gulp of air straight after, and then another, and another.

The anger came next, following panic as it always did, anger directed at himself for showing any kind of weakness. Daxton clenched his fists, or rather tried to; when his left hand failed to do what it was supposed to, the anxiety increased ten-fold.

Well, he certainly did not want to spend the next twenty-four hours like this. In fact, there were plenty of arguments as to why he could not, either. Communication, for a start. Maybe Daxton did not value communication very highly, but not having the option was far, far worse. Ironically enough, there was no way of communicating that at all, even if he wanted to.

So, instead of leaving, he simply stepped back into the office, crossed to the sofa, and sat down, not looking at Airey Flamsteed. He would sit here, in protest, until the spell was lifted, either by the professor or when the time ran out. He would sit right here, trying not to freak out, trying not to let the panic show, trying to make it look more like an act of belligerence than of fear. He would sit here, not looking at his hand, not looking at Airey Flamsteed, not looking at anything, and do nothing else. Much safer than leaving the office with his defences partly down and no means of communicating with anyone.

It occurred to Daxton, a nagging thought at the back of his mind, that he would absolutely need to teach himself how to write with his right hand, too. Not now, though. Now he just sat, breathing hard in a mixture of anger and panic, trying his utmost not to let the latter show, clenching his right hand into a tight fist. The still-concealed book pressed against his back, pinned between the sofa and his body, and he mentally cursed it with all the rage he could muster.

Perhaps, if Airey Flamsteed attempted to engage him in discussion, or offer a rebuke, the lack of rebuttal might show him just what a stupid idea this was. Just how stupid he was. Stupid professor with his stupid office and this stupid stupid stupid enchantment.

Mr. Prince truly was like a box of Bertie Bott's, never knowing precisely what you were getting and outward appearances being incredibly misleading. Comparing the Ravenclaw to the weather may be a better analogy. You could think that you had all the statistical data to create a forecast, but very well get thunder and icy cold rain when you expected sunshine.

This was one of those times, meaning that the astronomer had not predicted this form of protesting. Although the man was also a bit tickled that Mr Prince was coming back inside and giving the opportunity to have a sort of dialogue about things. Sort of being the key word here, for various reasons.

"There IS a way for you to leave this office here tonight with both your hands, Mr. Prince," the astronomer informed the second year gentle but not without a tone of authority. "With both your hands and that book you have tucked behind your back."

02-09-2016, 05:37 AM	#30 (permalink)
sweetpinkpixie Wizarding World RPG Admin Minister for Magic Alley Proprietor Romanian Longhorn Join Date: Aug 2010 Location: The Paths Posts: 39,834 Hogwarts RPG Name: Briallen Ashburry-Hawthorne Gryffindor First Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Nyle Harden Hufflepuff Second Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Iris Harden Ravenclaw Second Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Calliope Barrington Slytherin First Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Diamond Marchbanks Gryffindor Sixth Year Ministry Department Head: Charles Hollingberry Minister's Office Ministry Department Head: Airey Flamsteed Mysteries Diagon Alley Proprietor: Zachaël Lufkin Owl Post x12 x12	astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK \| & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf SPOILER!!: the kid who brought it aaaaaaaaaaaaaall on himself Quote: Originally Posted by Felixir Twenty-four hours. Like this. Like this? Airey Flamsteed had not outright said that, but it seemed to be what he was getting at. There was a good chance Daxton misunderstood, though, as he tended to misunderstand people when they were not completely straightforward. Nevertheless, hearing 'twenty-four hours' gave him a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, like there was a tight fist of panic squeezing at his insides. He attempted to take a deep, steadying breath, which ultimately failed as he felt compelled to take another gulp of air straight after, and then another, and another. The anger came next, following panic as it always did, anger directed at himself for showing any kind of weakness. Daxton clenched his fists, or rather tried to; when his left hand failed to do what it was supposed to, the anxiety increased ten-fold. Well, he certainly did not want to spend the next twenty-four hours like this. In fact, there were plenty of arguments as to why he could not, either. Communication, for a start. Maybe Daxton did not value communication very highly, but not having the option was far, far worse. Ironically enough, there was no way of communicating that at all, even if he wanted to. So, instead of leaving, he simply stepped back into the office, crossed to the sofa, and sat down, not looking at Airey Flamsteed. He would sit here, in protest, until the spell was lifted, either by the professor or when the time ran out. He would sit right here, trying not to freak out, trying not to let the panic show, trying to make it look more like an act of belligerence than of fear. He would sit here, not looking at his hand, not looking at Airey Flamsteed, not looking at anything, and do nothing else. Much safer than leaving the office with his defences partly down and no means of communicating with anyone. It occurred to Daxton, a nagging thought at the back of his mind, that he would absolutely need to teach himself how to write with his right hand, too. Not now, though. Now he just sat, breathing hard in a mixture of anger and panic, trying his utmost not to let the latter show, clenching his right hand into a tight fist. The still-concealed book pressed against his back, pinned between the sofa and his body, and he mentally cursed it with all the rage he could muster. Perhaps, if Airey Flamsteed attempted to engage him in discussion, or offer a rebuke, the lack of rebuttal might show him just what a stupid idea this was. Just how stupid he was. Stupid professor with his stupid office and this stupid stupid stupid enchantment. Mr. Prince truly was like a box of Bertie Bott's, never knowing precisely what you were getting and outward appearances being incredibly misleading. Comparing the Ravenclaw to the weather may be a better analogy. You could think that you had all the statistical data to create a forecast, but very well get thunder and icy cold rain when you expected sunshine. This was one of those times, meaning that the astronomer had not predicted this form of protesting. Although the man was also a bit tickled that Mr Prince was coming back inside and giving the opportunity to have a sort of dialogue about things. Sort of being the key word here, for various reasons. "There IS a way for you to leave this office here tonight with both your hands, Mr. Prince," the astronomer informed the second year gentle but not without a tone of authority. "With both your hands and that book you have tucked behind your back." __________________ When you’re stuck in a moment and your spark has been stolen .................................................. ........... this is our time to own it, so own it..................................... baby we were born with fire and gold in our eyes