ooc: SO MUCH CATCHING UP TO DO! AH! Sorry guys. Had friends over. Unicorn Magic Rawr-er "No. Nothing's wrong, Princess," he hissed, eyeing her with mounting suspicion. If she took a step nearer he'd hex her bloody head off. The thought of the blonde touching him... The smell would never leave his skin... The close proximity. His stomach squirmed at the mere thought and he took pains to remain breathing. It wasn't that Ashleigh scared him, no, that wasn't it... He wasn't afraid. It was just that every cell, every ounce of his being screamed against anyone nearing him. Mother, Father, siblings... Even as an infant, he'd gum at his mothers hands if she held him. When his teeth developed, physical contact stopped altogether, though he allowed the rare hair mussing. He developed into a toddler, and it all stopped: all of it. Being in rooms with others made him anxious and violent. His parents never did find out why...
Alex's ice blue eyes practically bulged out of his skull as his wand was whisked away from his grasp. His teeth gritted and his hands curled into tight fists, fingernails nearly drawing blood from sinking into his palm with such ferocity. "Give me my wand back. You don't know what I'm capable of doing, and I won't hesitate to hurt you. I have little conscience, but I don't like to strangle girls. I'm willing to bend that rule if I don't have my wand back NOW." He held out his hand in a forceful, livid manner, fingers trembling with raw anger as he suppressed an animalistic growl of hate. Who the hell did she think she was? Taking away his wand! You just didn't take away a wizard's wand, even if you were Sister Do Good. The lot of them were crazy, freaks. Princess was the worst, decidedly, with her color and cattiness. Next up was Mr. Happiness, preaching to him on how he was afraid to be beautiful... Maybe Jeremiah dreamed of one day metamorphosing into a pretty butterfly but Alex couldn't care less. He dressed the way he did because... Because... He wouldn't toy with it. It was complex, and superfluous. He dressed, the end. There was no back story behind it. "Accio Alex's wand," he hissed, stretching out his hand and watching his wand return like a loyal friend. His only. I hate the headmasters already. Was the first thought that came to Mr. Visser as the man approached them and prattled rules. He audibly scoffed as he heard there was to be no fighting allowed... No one, not one singular person had escaped getting under Alex's skin. There would be fights, it was inevitable. Even if the former Slytherin wished to control it, it would be quite the impossibility. His fists and duelling hand had their own brains and souls, his body followed. And he'd never questioned it, so far this had kept him alive, and at a safe emotional distance from everyone. He liked it that way. Jeremiah? Who's Jerem---OH GOD. He struggled to not groan as he marched, begrudgingly, towards their room, trailing a good ten feet behind the group. Jeremiah. The one he thought most likely to call for group hugs and hold hands and sing Kumbaya. He felt a vicious loathing for his parents as he slipped into his room and unpacked his bag. Why had they sent him here?
__________________ {{There's only two types of guys out there; Ones that can hang with me and ones that are scared}}  So baby, I hope that you came prepared I run a tight ship so beware |