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Kaos.Doodles · 10-06-2016, 03:35 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Felixir

Daxton lowered his hand again, looking down at the Slytherin boy with his calculating gaze; he was playing a dangerous game here, and he knew it. He was, essentially, relying on this boy believing he, as a fourth year, was particularly adept at magic, and using that fact to inform his decision on whether or not to cast an offensive spell. As it happened, Daxton did know his stuff. He knew more theory about magic than most his age, specialising in a certain few subject areas. But knowing his stuff, and being able to cast it... those were two very different things.

Non-verbal as he was, Daxton had been attempting for his first three years at Hogwarts to cast spells non-verbally too, and had ignored all instructions to make an attempt at speaking the incantations. Up until the end of his third year, he had had limited, though not entirely absent, success. But now, in his fourth year, there had been some sudden and extensive developments. His non-verbal magic had suddenly started improving at a remarkable rate, but when it came to combative magic, there was only one spell Daxton had managed to fully master, due in part to the fact that most of his practicing duelling spells was done while hiding in corridors, casting at unsuspecting passers-by. Even then, he did not consider that to be a true practice; not enough that he would be certain to use those spells to overpower someone in a duel.

So he was, essentially, falling back on nothing more than a bluff with Asakura, at least until he could be certain he would win in a duel. Until then, Daxton was at least not afraid to fight, and fight dirty, in a good, old-fashioned fist fight. Those always got his blood pumping faster anyway.

Still, he watched Asakura closely, paying particularly close attention to his hands, ready for any sudden movement. None came.

What did come, was a simple, one-word question. A question Daxton had no hope of answering.

Why? Why what? There were a great many things that that question could be addressing: Why was Daxton on the statue? Why was he waving? Why had he beaten the snot out of Asakura the first time they had met? Why did anyone think that this statue was a good hiding place for a 'secret' passageway?

Plenty of potential questions, none of which Daxton could really answer, even if he had known exactly what kind of question Asakura was asking. So he made a choice between his only two options, and simply shrugged. A vague answer to a vague question.

Daxton Prince's whole demeanour bothered him.

It reminded Tak too much like some of the boys he had grown up around. The ones who quickly took to calling him names and squashing his thoughts about his mum coming for him at a young age. The ones who walked with their heads held high and their backs up straight for the sheer purpose of intimidating you.

And the thirteen year old hated it.

Especially considering what Daxton had done to him. And what he had made him do. Starting a fight, that was not something he would normally do at all. His blood had been boiling though, just as it was now. The look Daxton gave him.....

"Why did you attack me in Diagon Alley?" That was what he wanted to know. Really and truly. He had to know, before he casted his finally opinion on the boy that he already disliked, so very much.

10-06-2016, 03:35 AM	#12 (permalink)
Kaos.Doodles SS Featured Author Clabbert Join Date: Apr 2004 Location: Vaes Dothrak Posts: 19,232 Hogwarts RPG Name: Takeru Asakura Third Year x5 x7	★ BabyQuad ★ PERRY THE PLATYPUS ★ Ern's Fave ★ dangerous with brooms ★ Quote: Originally Posted by Felixir Daxton lowered his hand again, looking down at the Slytherin boy with his calculating gaze; he was playing a dangerous game here, and he knew it. He was, essentially, relying on this boy believing he, as a fourth year, was particularly adept at magic, and using that fact to inform his decision on whether or not to cast an offensive spell. As it happened, Daxton did know his stuff. He knew more theory about magic than most his age, specialising in a certain few subject areas. But knowing his stuff, and being able to cast it... those were two very different things. Non-verbal as he was, Daxton had been attempting for his first three years at Hogwarts to cast spells non-verbally too, and had ignored all instructions to make an attempt at speaking the incantations. Up until the end of his third year, he had had limited, though not entirely absent, success. But now, in his fourth year, there had been some sudden and extensive developments. His non-verbal magic had suddenly started improving at a remarkable rate, but when it came to combative magic, there was only one spell Daxton had managed to fully master, due in part to the fact that most of his practicing duelling spells was done while hiding in corridors, casting at unsuspecting passers-by. Even then, he did not consider that to be a true practice; not enough that he would be certain to use those spells to overpower someone in a duel. So he was, essentially, falling back on nothing more than a bluff with Asakura, at least until he could be certain he would win in a duel. Until then, Daxton was at least not afraid to fight, and fight dirty, in a good, old-fashioned fist fight. Those always got his blood pumping faster anyway. Still, he watched Asakura closely, paying particularly close attention to his hands, ready for any sudden movement. None came. What did come, was a simple, one-word question. A question Daxton had no hope of answering. Why? Why what? There were a great many things that that question could be addressing: Why was Daxton on the statue? Why was he waving? Why had he beaten the snot out of Asakura the first time they had met? Why did anyone think that this statue was a good hiding place for a 'secret' passageway? Plenty of potential questions, none of which Daxton could really answer, even if he had known exactly what kind of question Asakura was asking. So he made a choice between his only two options, and simply shrugged. A vague answer to a vague question. Daxton Prince's whole demeanour bothered him. It reminded Tak too much like some of the boys he had grown up around. The ones who quickly took to calling him names and squashing his thoughts about his mum coming for him at a young age. The ones who walked with their heads held high and their backs up straight for the sheer purpose of intimidating you. And the thirteen year old hated it. Especially considering what Daxton had done to him. And what he had made him do. Starting a fight, that was not something he would normally do at all. His blood had been boiling though, just as it was now. The look Daxton gave him..... "Why did you attack me in Diagon Alley?" That was what he wanted to know. Really and truly. He had to know, before he casted his finally opinion on the boy that he already disliked, so very much. __________________ {act like you know me, but you never will}__{but there's one thing that I know for sure} {i'll show you}