 Lovely™ | Captain Hurted | Ariana's Bane | Resident Antagonist | Unparalleled Delight
The combination of the heavy rain and the overly stylised penmanship of the writing that appeared on the board meant that it took Daxton slightly longer than usual to read through it. This time, at least, it provided him with the correct answer. Not that that was any help whatsoever. As he read, he frowned, the logic of the situation completely and utterly lost on him. These were not regular riddles, based in cold, hard fact. This was beyond Daxton's capabilities, and he was self-aware enough to realise that.
But he did not raise that point to Ichihara and Airey Flamsteed. His thought process was simple, and nothing to do with pride or not wanting to admit he could not do something. If Daxton revealed that he did not have the skills to answer these questions, clearly based on what was what was right and wrong, he would be calling attention to an issue that he had no doubts would raise far too many concerns. There were certain aspects to Daxton's personality that he knew it would be wisest not to flaunt, and as he could not hope to bluff his way through a situation like this, his best bet was to instead act as though his answers were a display of belligerence, of outright antagonism. If his shortcomings were deduced in other ways, however... well, that was a different matter. It would be interesting to see if Ichihara could manage it. Another game to play in a world that was otherwise just so incredibly boring.
The crack of thunder was jarring, and Daxton, though prepared, felt his head spin as the sound seemed to go right through him. The fact that his ears were covered meant nothing; the reverberations of the thunder was enough to shake the very stone he stood upon, and he did not so much hear it as feel it. Nevertheless, he clamped his hands down over the earmuffs, squeezed his eyes shut to defend their sensitivity from the possibility of more lightening, and waited for a moment or two. The rain got worse, beating down on him with such a force that it took some effort to keep his head up. With a stab of annoyance, he remembered the notebook in his pocket, now probably soaked through and useless - a total waste, considering he did not have the magical ability to dry the stupid thing out.
Opening his eyes slightly, Daxton squinted through the pouring rain and looked to the board once more. Take another stab at it?
Another stab at what? Was this another riddle? It was about as nonsensical as the others had been, in terms of trying to deduce an answer, so it seemed quite possible. Daxton did not react, did not write anything down or respond otherwise. He stood where he was, in the pouring rain, staring at the whiteboard and not at the professors, hands still pressed firmly over the sodden earmuffs covering his ears.
__________________ Days of Potter 2023:___________________________ Which Bertie Botts Flavour Are You?
You are Chocolate! |