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sweetpinkpixie · 12-16-2012, 01:20 PM

Perhaps the first thing you notice as you enter Professor Flamsteed's office is that it is...clean. Ridiculously clean. While he is not exactly obsessive compulsive about cleanliness, Professor Flamsteed highly values organization and keeps everything in a specific location. Needless to say, if one of his quills is at an odd angle ... he will notice. The wood cabinets above his desk are filled with all sorts of reference books on all branches astronomy on the left side while the right side is filled with works of muggle science fiction ranging from Douglas Adams to H.G. Wells to Robert Heinlein and everyone in between. His desk is mostly empty except for some black accents and a comfortable looking pillow where the professor's pet rocks, Pebbles and Boulder, tend to rest. Beside this is a plant in a unique looking planter.

On the walls are a few framed pieces of abstract line and paint splatter artwork that Professor Flamsteed has collected over the years along with a drawing given to him by a former student in a black frame just to the left of another large gifted piece of artwork also in a black frame above the sofa. Beside it is yet another drawing, this one signed, in another black frame. There is a black sofa up against one of the walls with a pet house and a pet bed on the floor beside it where Pebbles and Boulder sleep when not sharing the pillow on the desk. To the right of the black sofa and is a wooden closet where Professor Flamsteed keeps a few freshly pressed suits from his extensive collection, just in case, and to the left of this is a rather impressive looking tie display case. Located opposite of Professor Flamsteed's desk is yet another display case, but this one is filled with all sorts of muggle science fiction models - one of which is sporting something on its head - that he has built and painted himself - a hobby of his when he is not busy teaching, grading, or researching. To the left of this case is what appears to be a muggle telephone booth, but upon further inspection of it you will find Herschel scurrying about within.

OOC: please do not post here without having been invited in by Professor Flamsteed from the waiting area or spoken with me OOC. Posting without doing either of these puts your post at risk of being unceremoniously deleted.

sweetpinkpixie · 02-01-2016, 08:48 AM

SPOILER!!: #YOLO

It seemed that they were indeed finished. Alright then.

"Live long and prosper, Mr. Prince," the astronomer saluted, electing to say nothing in regards to this little game of who knows more than the other. Having the Ravenclaw suffer the consequences of his coy curiosity would be far more amusing to the man anyway. Besides, the boy knew precisely what it was he was doing so why glorify the moment in letting the young man know before his enchantments had taken effect.

Which they would should the boy take just one more step. Flesh colored nub on one hand and a charming gummi red had to go with it. Would really look quite nice juxtaposed to the boy's blue robes.

Felixir · 02-06-2016, 12:38 PM

SPOILER!!: sorry for the delay i'm awful you know how it is

Naturally, Daxton did not acknowledge Airey Flamsteed's farewell - he had never gotten into the habit of that stupid salute, nor had there ever been any chance of him saying the words to go along with it. Instead, he took that next step, through the doorway and over the threshold, the step which triggered an immediate change. It helped that he had been expecting something, but as Daxton was well aware by now, it was quite impossible to be fully prepared for the unknown. In that regard, this had been a risky experiment, though still a necessary one.

He felt the change before he saw it; as a boy who was hyperaware of all of his senses, the sudden change in his dominant hand was impossible to miss. Daxton stopped dead in his tracks, holding his left hand up to inspect it, though he already had some idea of how it would look.

It was strange. It was intriguing, at least in terms of aesthetic. Daxton could not drag his eyes away from it for a moment, and raised his other hand to prod and poke at it, utterly captivated. But not so captivated that he did not notice the bright red that his right hand had gone. Daxton stared between them both, considering this magic as a form of security. He had to admit it was clever, and much, much better than an alarm or siren, which he had half been expecting.

Regardless, a low-level panic had gripped Daxton at the thought of the unusable hand. He wrote with his left hand, and he signed with both of them together. Occasionally he would also punch things, but that was perhaps not quite so important as his two primary forms of communication. He stared at the nub now at the end of his wrist and instinctively tried to flex fingers that were no longer there. More panic surged through him when he inevitably could not.

So he turned. Turned right back around and looked in through the doorway of the office, wondering if crossing back over the threshold would fix his hands, but ultimately doubting it. Of course, Airey Flamsteed would have been expecting this, so Daxton simply held both his hands up for him to see. A sudden worry had suddenly surfaced too, impossible to tell from his neutral expression, a worry that Airey Flamsteed would not fix his hands at all, as a form of punishment. Daxton was already formulating plans to bargain for a detention or loss of points (which he did not care about anyway) in return for at least a functional left hand. Of course, there would be no way of communicating such negotiations unless he had use of his hand granted back in the first place, rendering such negotiations useless. Then again, perhaps the hand thing was merely a means of making sure the thief owned up - again, annoyingly clever - and perhaps there were other consequences in store instead. Especially for someone with Daxton's track record.

Whatever the situation, one thing was for sure. For the time being, Daxton was quite distracted from his previous, borderline distressing line of thinking, fully concerned with the state of his hands. The red one, he could deal with, but the other one... well... no.

No.

sweetpinkpixie · 02-08-2016, 09:15 AM

SPOILER!!: the poor precious pea <3

Quote:

Originally Posted by Felixir

Naturally, Daxton did not acknowledge Airey Flamsteed's farewell - he had never gotten into the habit of that stupid salute, nor had there ever been any chance of him saying the words to go along with it. Instead, he took that next step, through the doorway and over the threshold, the step which triggered an immediate change. It helped that he had been expecting something, but as Daxton was well aware by now, it was quite impossible to be fully prepared for the unknown. In that regard, this had been a risky experiment, though still a necessary one.

He felt the change before he saw it; as a boy who was hyperaware of all of his senses, the sudden change in his dominant hand was impossible to miss. Daxton stopped dead in his tracks, holding his left hand up to inspect it, though he already had some idea of how it would look.

It was strange. It was intriguing, at least in terms of aesthetic. Daxton could not drag his eyes away from it for a moment, and raised his other hand to prod and poke at it, utterly captivated. But not so captivated that he did not notice the bright red that his right hand had gone. Daxton stared between them both, considering this magic as a form of security. He had to admit it was clever, and much, much better than an alarm or siren, which he had half been expecting.

Regardless, a low-level panic had gripped Daxton at the thought of the unusable hand. He wrote with his left hand, and he signed with both of them together. Occasionally he would also punch things, but that was perhaps not quite so important as his two primary forms of communication. He stared at the nub now at the end of his wrist and instinctively tried to flex fingers that were no longer there. More panic surged through him when he inevitably could not.

So he turned. Turned right back around and looked in through the doorway of the office, wondering if crossing back over the threshold would fix his hands, but ultimately doubting it. Of course, Airey Flamsteed would have been expecting this, so Daxton simply held both his hands up for him to see. A sudden worry had suddenly surfaced too, impossible to tell from his neutral expression, a worry that Airey Flamsteed would not fix his hands at all, as a form of punishment. Daxton was already formulating plans to bargain for a detention or loss of points (which he did not care about anyway) in return for at least a functional left hand. Of course, there would be no way of communicating such negotiations unless he had use of his hand granted back in the first place, rendering such negotiations useless. Then again, perhaps the hand thing was merely a means of making sure the thief owned up - again, annoyingly clever - and perhaps there were other consequences in store instead. Especially for someone with Daxton's track record.

Whatever the situation, one thing was for sure. For the time being, Daxton was quite distracted from his previous, borderline distressing line of thinking, fully concerned with the state of his hands. The red one, he could deal with, but the other one... well... no.

No.

A satisfied smirk graced the professor's features, one that was gone as soon as the Ravenclaw turned around, when he saw the change in the young man's posture. However temporary the lesson was, there was something being delivered right now. Airey knew full well that Mr. Prince would only recognize this as an isolated incident exclusive, perhaps, to the Astronomy Tower, and not applicable to the outside world. But that did not prevent the man from holding on to a tiny bit of optimism that he was taking at least a tiny something from this.

"That's an excellent choice," he nodded, pointing abstractly to where the book was concealed. "I hope you find it worth the next 24 hours." Which was the astronomer's way of indicating the time frame that Mr. Prince would be stuck like that.

The man was able to read the subtle panic hidden behind the young man's blue eyes, but there were no heart strings to be pulled on this astronut.

"Nobody ever did, or ever will, escape the consequences of his choices," he added, tapping his nose knowingly while remaining by his desk.

Felixir · 02-08-2016, 06:02 PM

SPOILER!!: mean old flamsteed

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.

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."

Felixir · 02-09-2016, 08:21 AM

SPOILER!!: 'sadistic dweeb' your words not mine

Daxton kept his eyes fixed quite firmly on the wall directly ahead, a scowl seeming to darken his features and the very atmosphere around him. He did not look at Airey Flamsteed, even when he started talking again, but he was listening, and he was instantly suspicious.

The fact of the matter was that what Daxton wanted was to leave the office with both his hands intact and with the book he had taken. Airey Flamsteed knew that he wanted that too, so why would he let him go with both of those things? The answer was that he would not, not without there being some other consequence which would be just as unpleasant, if not moreso, than the enchantment that had changed Daxton's hands. Daxton was under no illusions that the way for him to leave the office would be anything close to favourable. He was not filled with hope regarding the matter even for a millisecond.

Still breathing deeply and slightly ominously, like an angry dragon waiting to strike, he kept looking straight ahead, giving no sign that he was even listening to Airey Flamsteed, all the while waiting for him to inevitably reveal the requirements of leaving the room with both his hands and the book. Not that it would be anything he wanted to hear, Daxton knew that for sure.

sweetpinkpixie · 02-10-2016, 09:22 PM

SPOILER!!: dats us :3

As he was sure the Ravenclaw was well aware of right now, the Astronomy professor and no qualms with prolonged silence and could be an incredibly patient man. Selectively anyway. He was still chomping at the bit and caught himself staring out the window for an approaching owl with his 1967 Gold Key edition Star Trek comic - the one with the photograph of William Shatner on the back cover.

But he was not waiting for a collector's edition comic right now. He was waiting for Mr. Prince to make the first move, to be honest, but hardly considered this to be a standoff. Providing hints as to appropriate and acceptable behavior was within his jurisdiction at present.

So, he would give it just a bit longer.

Felixir · 02-10-2016, 10:02 PM

SPOILER!!: it you

Fuming. Daxton was absolutely fuming.

Naturally, he felt about as blameless as he did guiltless, having chosen to ignore the fact that the issue with his hands was due to his own choice to steal the book. It was Airey Flamsteed who had set up the spell, who was refusing to lift it now, which meant that clearly this was his fault. Daxton was angry at himself too, but for his own private reasons. He continued to glare at the wall straight ahead.

Airey Flamsteed had stopped talking, and the ensuing silence somehow felt both empty and so heavy Daxton almost felt he might be crushed under the weight of it. It was some time before he realised that the reason for the silence was that it was his turn to... well, he was not entirely sure what. Talk? No. React... in some way.

Still he sat there, staring straight ahead and mulling things over, suddenly finding that even just turning to look at the professor was almost as difficult as forcing himself to talk. The longer he sat there in silence, the worse it felt. It was strange, because Daxton sat in silence a lot; he sat in silence with other people also sitting in silence, but in this situation, something made it feel wrong and weird and heavy and empty and horrible. He chewed at the inside of his cheek, unable to shake the feeling that it was somehow now too late to react to the professor's last statement, which made him even more reluctant to do anything, and still angrier at himself for letting the anxiety take hold.

Perhaps it was the anger that finally urged him into action. After who-only-knew-how-long of sitting in silence and stillness, Daxton turned his head an infinitesimal amount, and turned those bright blue eyes of his to Airey Flamsteed.

sweetpinkpixie · 02-11-2016, 07:45 PM

SPOILER!!: its us! :3 now give me my foot back

Oblivious, somewhat, to Mr. Prince's plight, the Astronomy professor was trying not to look too smug about the whole ordeal. Which was perhaps an incredibly premature feeling, among other descriptive words, to have at this point. Thus the astronomer was essentially milking the silence for all it was worth, showing neither discomfort nor outward amusement while keeping his own bright blue eyes locked on the Ravenclaw. The look, however, that the young man eventually offered him took him a bit by surprise for reasons he could not put to words.

Rather than offering up any guidance, however, the Gryffindor Head of House simply waited. He was not expecting the young man to speak, although since he did on occasion mouth words to the professor that would be welcomed and there was a good chance the man would be able to decode the movements, nor did he really expect anything to happen right away. Although there was a certain gesture he was hoping to see that involved the book still tucked away behind his back.

Perhaps he should put on some tea? It did seem like they would be here for a while considering things. Thus, he gave a flick of his wand towards his tea set to prepare some Earl grey for the two of them.

Should Mr. Prince elect to drink any. The man had his doubts.

Felixir · 02-13-2016, 07:55 PM

SPOILER!!: i told you it's felix's foot now

Regardless of what Airey Flamsteed was expecting or hoping for, Daxton had no intentions of doing anything, of saying or mouthing anymore words. The book stayed behind his back, and his eyes stayed fixed on the professor. The only movement he eventually made was the crossed his arms over his chest almost defiantly, effectively hiding his cursed hands from view - though that had not been the primary intention.

Naturally, when Airey Flamsteed raised his wand, Daxton could only look in the direction he was casting.

Tea.

Tea?

...

Exhaling hard through his nose again, much like an angry dragon once more, Daxton glared at the tea set and slouched down where he sat, looking pointedly off in another direction entirely. He began bouncing his leg up and down incessantly as he sat there, unable to stop himself, unable to keep still as the anxiety continued coursing through him, his jaw set and piercing glare all but boring a hole into the stone wall. Daxton could not quite place why the tea had angered him further, but suspected that the way in which Airey Flamsteed was acting so casual more than likely had something to do with it.

sweetpinkpixie · 02-17-2016, 03:06 AM

SPOILER!!: *s i g h*

Was Airey aware that he was potentially lighting yet another fuse on the ticking time bomb that was Daxton Prince? Certainly, but that did not deter his desire for a nice hot cup of tea.

"Would you care for some, Mr. Prince?" he asked all-too-casually as he levitated the pot in front of him to inspect the contents. Hmmm, perhaps another minute then. "Considering that it seems we are going to be here for a while before you make the first move, it may help to pass the time."

Felixir · 02-18-2016, 11:06 PM

SPOILER!!: :3

Would he care for some? Care? No. Daxton did not care. About anything, actually. About anything other than getting his hands fixed, and certainly not about tea. He shook his head 'no' with conviction, and kept his gaze fixed firmly onto that one point on the stone wall, determined, stubborn, angry.

Except that Airey Flamsteed was expecting him to 'make the first move', which made for a great many problems, as Daxton had no idea what the 'first move' was supposed to be. In actual fact, it did not seem as though his move would be the first either; at some point, his visit to this office had turned into something like a chess game. Daxton's most recent move had been to sit on the sofa and refuse to move - in the most literal sense of the word - and Airey Flamsteed's had been to... well... Daxton was not quite sure. To talk in riddles, perhaps, which did not even count. In actuality, far from being at the start of any sort of game with all its moves and countermoves, they had already achieved a stalemate of an existing... whatever this was.

The point, of course, was that Daxton was not at all sure what Airey Flamsteed expected him to do (or even that he would do what was expected should he know what it was, but that was irrelevant). Again, he had no way of communicating that he did not know, nor to ask what Airey Flamsteed was even waiting for, and so Daxton simply remained silent and still and so very frustrated.

At least the sofa was comfortable. If Daxton was going to choose a sofa to stubbornly remain seated on for what was potentially a full twenty-four hours, it would probably be one like this. He dragged his eyes from the point on the wall, and inspected the length of the sofa, tempted to put his feet up. Maybe try push Airey Flamsteed just that little bit further, get him out of the infuriating casual air he had about him right now. Maybe call that his first move, as he did not know what else to do. There were plenty of flaws in that plan, however, and so for the moment it remained just a plan, a series of ideas for Daxton to focus on in an attempt to not let his frustration overwhelm him.

sweetpinkpixie · 02-19-2016, 01:10 PM

SPOILER!!: how long do you think this will keep up? :3 just sitting their staring at each other and all XD

Quote:

Originally Posted by Felixir

Would he care for some? Care? No. Daxton did not care. About anything, actually. About anything other than getting his hands fixed, and certainly not about tea. He shook his head 'no' with conviction, and kept his gaze fixed firmly onto that one point on the stone wall, determined, stubborn, angry.

Except that Airey Flamsteed was expecting him to 'make the first move', which made for a great many problems, as Daxton had no idea what the 'first move' was supposed to be. In actual fact, it did not seem as though his move would be the first either; at some point, his visit to this office had turned into something like a chess game. Daxton's most recent move had been to sit on the sofa and refuse to move - in the most literal sense of the word - and Airey Flamsteed's had been to... well... Daxton was not quite sure. To talk in riddles, perhaps, which did not even count. In actuality, far from being at the start of any sort of game with all its moves and countermoves, they had already achieved a stalemate of an existing... whatever this was.

The point, of course, was that Daxton was not at all sure what Airey Flamsteed expected him to do (or even that he would do what was expected should he know what it was, but that was irrelevant). Again, he had no way of communicating that he did not know, nor to ask what Airey Flamsteed was even waiting for, and so Daxton simply remained silent and still and so very frustrated.

At least the sofa was comfortable. If Daxton was going to choose a sofa to stubbornly remain seated on for what was potentially a full twenty-four hours, it would probably be one like this. He dragged his eyes from the point on the wall, and inspected the length of the sofa, tempted to put his feet up. Maybe try push Airey Flamsteed just that little bit further, get him out of the infuriating casual air he had about him right now. Maybe call that his first move, as he did not know what else to do. There were plenty of flaws in that plan, however, and so for the moment it remained just a plan, a series of ideas for Daxton to focus on in an attempt to not let his frustration overwhelm him.

Precise language aside, although the astronomer had his doubts that 'would you like' would have yielded different results, Airey focused his attention on preparing the tea. Which would apparently be just for himself for the time being unless the Ravenclaw decided that he was feeling a bit parched. Which was sure to happen eventually and thankfully the pot was charms to keep the contents from ever going cold.

A few thoughts went through the Head of House's mind as he sat there tending to his cup, none of them the sort that he would share with others. One of the thoughts that did stick with him was wondering if the Ravenclaw would begin experimenting with possible solutions before curfew. Because that really was the deadline of this whole ordeal, curfew. In which case Mr. Prince would have no choice but to leave here with his hand as is.

So...really...ball still in your court, Mr. Prince.

Pouring himself a cup, Airey leaned back in his seat and blew on it gently a few times before taking a sip. Mmmmmmmm delicious.

Felixir · 02-19-2016, 08:47 PM

SPOILER!!: well theyer both as stubborn as each other so ._.

More silence, though that was completely predictable by this point.

It did not take a genius to work out that silence on Daxton's part - or rather, doing nothing, as silence tended to be his only default setting - was not the 'move' he was supposed to be making to progress things along. But really, he felt he had no other choice. If he could have said something, he would have asked what Airey Flamsteed was waiting for, what he meant by telling him there was a way to leave this office with both the book in his possession and his hands intact, and then not revealing what that way was. It made Daxton all the more frustrated; frustrated that he could not communicate (and mouthing words was by now out of the question), frustrated that he was not a Legilimens despite his best efforts to learn to become one to avoid situations like this. Remembering that just made him all the more angry, and he took another deep breath in an attempt to suppress it. Now was not the time.

All that was left was to provoke some sort of reaction out of the professor, do something to elicit anything from him. A comment, an angry outburst. Anything would be helpful at this point.

Daxton shifted slightly on the sofa, felt the book press against his back again, and went still. He paused, thoughtful, calculating, then reached back behind him with the functional-but-still-unfortunately-coloured hand, and took it out from its hiding place. Not stopping to even glance at Airey Flamsteed - though he was suddenly tempted the throw the book at his head, certain that that would achieve a response, though admittedly in the least subtle way - Daxton shuffled around, put his feet up on the sofa and his back against the arm, and used his one good hand to place the book on his lap and flip the pages with just a little difficulty. Though his argument - were he able to communicate it - was that he may as well read the book while he was here, the entire series of actions was a carefully thought out way of prompting a response from Airey Flamsteed.

And perhaps also testing him again, just a little bit. It really was impossible to resist.

Daxton kept his eyes on the book now, but remained utterly alert to the rest of the room, waiting for something - anything - from the astronomer whose office he was currently occupying (in more than one sense of the word).

sweetpinkpixie · 02-20-2016, 02:47 AM

SPOILER!!: *plays the world's smallest violin at our woes* but the man is a little smug. oops

Quote:

Originally Posted by Felixir

More silence, though that was completely predictable by this point.

It did not take a genius to work out that silence on Daxton's part - or rather, doing nothing, as silence tended to be his only default setting - was not the 'move' he was supposed to be making to progress things along. But really, he felt he had no other choice. If he could have said something, he would have asked what Airey Flamsteed was waiting for, what he meant by telling him there was a way to leave this office with both the book in his possession and his hands intact, and then not revealing what that way was. It made Daxton all the more frustrated; frustrated that he could not communicate (and mouthing words was by now out of the question), frustrated that he was not a Legilimens despite his best efforts to learn to become one to avoid situations like this. Remembering that just made him all the more angry, and he took another deep breath in an attempt to suppress it. Now was not the time.

All that was left was to provoke some sort of reaction out of the professor, do something to elicit anything from him. A comment, an angry outburst. Anything would be helpful at this point.

Daxton shifted slightly on the sofa, felt the book press against his back again, and went still. He paused, thoughtful, calculating, then reached back behind him with the functional-but-still-unfortunately-coloured hand, and took it out from its hiding place. Not stopping to even glance at Airey Flamsteed - though he was suddenly tempted the throw the book at his head, certain that that would achieve a response, though admittedly in the least subtle way - Daxton shuffled around, put his feet up on the sofa and his back against the arm, and used his one good hand to place the book on his lap and flip the pages with just a little difficulty. Though his argument - were he able to communicate it - was that he may as well read the book while he was here, the entire series of actions was a carefully thought out way of prompting a response from Airey Flamsteed.

And perhaps also testing him again, just a little bit. It really was impossible to resist.

Daxton kept his eyes on the book now, but remained utterly alert to the rest of the room, waiting for something - anything - from the astronomer whose office he was currently occupying (in more than one sense of the word).

The astronomer continued to sip on tea slowly, casting the occasional glance over the rim of his cup towards the Ravenclaw in subtle but keen observation. If this was a chess match, Airey felt that he was winning. This was his home turf after all and Spock would mock him into eternity if he lost while clearly having the upper hand.

Hand. Ha. There were many jokes that could be made about hands right now - and he was strangely reminded of the one lesson he had assisted Medea with...the one where he had come bearing the gift of a zombie hand - but another glance at Mr. Prince informed him that he best not push his luck by introducing humor to the situation as well.

But then phase one truly began and whether or not the Ravenclaw would admit it, he had just acknowledge that he had in fact attempted to steal something from the professor's office. Under other circumstances the man would have been close to releasing Ragesteed again at the audacity the young man was displaying by reading the very book that had brought them to this moment right in front of him, but it was quite the opposite now. Hence the amused smirk he now wore on his face.

"Not one of my favorites, but still a good read," he nodded, lifting his cup of tea to his lips once more.

Felixir · 02-20-2016, 05:40 AM

SPOILER!!: so glad daxton can't actually read minds tho

There. A reaction. Something to go on.

Daxton turned his head to look at Airey Flamsteed, narrowing his eyes slightly at the comment, already trying to decipher it, trying to find any hidden meaning. In his experience, there was always hidden meaning whenever anyone spoke, and though it had never been in his nature to automatically know that kind of thing, and he could seldom figure it out, this time Daxton was determined to understand.

But it was not quite as easy as being determined, and simply willing himself to understand had never helped in the slightest when it came to the matter of decoding the intricacies of social interaction. If willpower and determination alone could achieve anything, Daxton would already be fully proficient at non-verbal magic, and would be a skilled Legilimens.

There was a thought, though. If only he was a Legilimens. If only he could peer into Airey Flamsteed's mind, figure out what the man was thinking. Maybe he could try? But Daxton knew it involved magic he did not know how to cast, skills he would not be able to develop for years, and - most difficult of all if he was to attempt the spell wordlessly and wandlessly - direct eye contact. Not a chance.

At that moment Daxton noticed the smirk on the Airey Flamsteed's face, but he did not allow himself to visibly react, somehow convinced that in doing so he would lose whatever game he had found himself playing. In his mind, he was the one who was winning, especially after eliciting the comment about the book from the professor, however difficult it was proving to decode, and he was not about to give that up with an uncontrolled outburst. Not if he could help it.

Instead, Daxton simply eyed the professor for a moment longer, then turned back to the book. Settling back on the sofa again, he held the book up with one hand to read, being none too subtle about it. But the book only had part of his attention, as Daxton was still taking his time to attempt to understand the situation, and what, if anything, he would do next.

sweetpinkpixie · 02-23-2016, 04:37 AM

SPOILER!!: only a matter of time though, no? xD #enables*

Quote:

Originally Posted by Felixir

There. A reaction. Something to go on.

Daxton turned his head to look at Airey Flamsteed, narrowing his eyes slightly at the comment, already trying to decipher it, trying to find any hidden meaning. In his experience, there was always hidden meaning whenever anyone spoke, and though it had never been in his nature to automatically know that kind of thing, and he could seldom figure it out, this time Daxton was determined to understand.

But it was not quite as easy as being determined, and simply willing himself to understand had never helped in the slightest when it came to the matter of decoding the intricacies of social interaction. If willpower and determination alone could achieve anything, Daxton would already be fully proficient at non-verbal magic, and would be a skilled Legilimens.

There was a thought, though. If only he was a Legilimens. If only he could peer into Airey Flamsteed's mind, figure out what the man was thinking. Maybe he could try? But Daxton knew it involved magic he did not know how to cast, skills he would not be able to develop for years, and - most difficult of all if he was to attempt the spell wordlessly and wandlessly - direct eye contact. Not a chance.

At that moment Daxton noticed the smirk on the Airey Flamsteed's face, but he did not allow himself to visibly react, somehow convinced that in doing so he would lose whatever game he had found himself playing. In his mind, he was the one who was winning, especially after eliciting the comment about the book from the professor, however difficult it was proving to decode, and he was not about to give that up with an uncontrolled outburst. Not if he could help it.

Instead, Daxton simply eyed the professor for a moment longer, then turned back to the book. Settling back on the sofa again, he held the book up with one hand to read, being none too subtle about it. But the book only had part of his attention, as Daxton was still taking his time to attempt to understand the situation, and what, if anything, he would do next.

So it was back to reading then? The astronomer could endure that easily. Perhaps even summon a book for himself? He had been right in the middle of a Star Trek series reread before term had started and, well, things had become rather distracting to the point that he had neglected to continue. So, since they were both just going to sit here waiting for the astronomer's checkmate...he may as well?

The watched the young man a bit longer, eyes steady, as he sipped from his tea.

Alright, Mr. Prince, let's see how long it takes you to get to step two...

Felixir · 02-23-2016, 08:04 AM

SPOILER!!: without a doubt to be honest

Daxton, who had barely managed to reach step one without a whole lot of luck and a fortunate belligerent streak, was quite prepared to continue reading in silence until they reached his checkmate. The anger still coursed through him, like a raging river that had somehow managed to freeze over on the surface - cool, calm, and completely innocuous to the casual observer, but dangerous and near deadly to anyone who might take a closer look and break through the ice.

He gripped the cover of the book tightly and shuffled further down on the sofa, all but laying right across it, appearing much more comfortable than he could ever feel in the presence of someone else. But that was all part of it. He kept his eyes on the book, acting as though he neither noticed not cared for Airey Flamsteed's presence, while all the time being hyper aware that he sat only a few feet away. Daxton was not sure if it made him feel more on edge or not.

What he did know, was that the book was quickly taking up more of his attention than he had intended for. Though Daxton had wanted to focus solely on his current situation, what lay right before his eyes - a new book, new information - was too tempting to ignore. He found himself reading - for real this time - and the rage that had built up so painfully in his chest gradually began to dial down from boiling to simmering. Shuffling just a little more onto his side, all the better to pin the book to the sofa seat and turn the pages with his functioning hand, Daxton ignored the battle of wills for a moment and allowed himself a few minutes to mentally retreat into the pages of the book. Perhaps reading would calm his brain, let him think his way through the stolen-book-cursed-hands-stupid-office scenario a little more logically.

Regardless of whether this was the case, reading was exactly what he was doing, eyes gleaming almost hungrily as they scanned each page at speed.

sweetpinkpixie · 03-01-2016, 02:53 PM

SPOILER!!: DAXTON!

So...that was in then, yeah? Mr. Prince would sit there reading the book and the astronomer would sit here sipping on his tea? This begged the question of what he should do once his tea eventually ran out - which wouldn't take too terribly long given how fond the man was of it - which would be after another cup or two of the brew. He could always summon a comic book...or perhaps a novel off his shelf. There was also some research to attend to...both of the academic and personal variety...

Blue eyes back on the Ravenclaw again, Airey took another long sip and then set his cup down on the small table and summoned his own book to read through. One that, unintentionally mind you, could potentially make the silence truly awkward. His copy of Usa Major's Guide to Raising Usa Minor: an astronomer's guide to parenting now in his hand, Airey leafed through the pages until he found the chapter he had previously left off on and began to read while occasionally sipping his tea and venturing glances towards his sofa's occupant.

**The Narrator** · 03-01-2016, 10:58 PM

Such a neat and tidy office! With such funny little knicks and knacks all about...

The figurines are awfully colorful... So bright, so well-kept...
If you watch them long enough they almost seem to breath! Such a wonderful creation of Muggle kind..

Do your eyes deceive you? Did that robotic figurine seem to... move? Certainly not...
It must be a trick of the light, perhaps you're very tired? Be at ease, this most certainly must be in your head.

Quite suddenly, without warning or even a single noise, the figurines began to move as one.
Jumping from their shelf and landing easily on the clean, carpeted floor.

Their eyes, once back and dull, seem to shine a bright, hateful red and a chittering laugh can be heard.

Perhaps you should run.

sweetpinkpixie · 03-02-2016, 01:03 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by The Narrator

Such a neat and tidy office! With such funny little knicks and knacks all about...

The figurines are awfully colorful... So bright, so well-kept...
If you watch them long enough they almost seem to breath! Such a wonderful creation of Muggle kind..

Do your eyes deceive you? Did that robotic figurine seem to... move? Certainly not...
It must be a trick of the light, perhaps you're very tired? Be at ease, this most certainly must be in your head.

Quite suddenly, without warning or even a single noise, the figurines began to move as one.
Jumping from their shelf and landing easily on the clean, carpeted floor.

Their eyes, once back and dull, seem to shine a bright, hateful red and a chittering laugh can be heard.

Perhaps you should run.

Coming back from the planetarium with several star charts folded neatly under his arm and Pebbles thumbing along beside him, the astronomer swung open his office door ready to settle down with a cup of tea. He had a few notes to go over before his conference in London as well as some loose ends to tie up here so he could take Sunday off to go with Medea to the Healer. Only when he stepped into his office all SANE thoughts were lost.

This was worse than receiving that love letter from Meri-berry. The one he was TRYING to forget about entirely because it had sent his head spinning off into orbit to potentially become a satellite for some distant exoplanet.

No. He would GLADLY take 100 of those letter over this sight.

GLADLY.

Mouth hanging open wide as the gap between the Earth and the moon - wide enough to fit all the planets between, for the record. Even Pluto, despite its non planet status - the Astronomy professor willed for sound to come out but it was as though he had been struck by both Silencio and Petrificus Totalus at the exact same moment.

HIS MECHA HAD TURNED AGAINST HIM! EVEN THE DEFORMED ONE DILIGENTLY, BUT CLUMSILY, CRAFTED BY A CERTAIN FORMER HUFFLEPUFF HEAD BOY HAD TURNED AGAINST HIM. NO WHY?!

AND SWEET SOLSTICE NOT ONLY THE MECHA BUT HIS ~~PRECIOUS BABIES~~ STAR TREK ACTION FIGURES AS WELL. NOT YOU TOO SPOCK. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. NO MCCOY YOU'RE A TOY NOT A DEMONIC DEVICE!

Under normal circumstances he would blame Medea for this considering she was the only person who knew how to remove the wards surrounding his office to let someone in seeing as she had placed them herself after his tie had been stolen several terms ago, but not even SHE would be this cruel. Daphne? No...he doubted she would bother to waste all the time it took to execute something like this....

BUT THEN WHO?!

"KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!" the professor roared, seeing the very figure making its appearance from behind his desk and gallivanting towards him.

Turning quickly in place, and tangling his legs in Pebbles' leash in the process, he began his escape attempt only to fall flat on his face in the threshold in his office.

ET TU, PEBBLES?!

**The Narrator** · 03-04-2016, 06:37 AM

SPOILER!!:

Quote:

Originally Posted by sweetpinkpixie

Coming back from the planetarium with several star charts folded neatly under his arm and Pebbles thumbing along beside him, the astronomer swung open his office door ready to settle down with a cup of tea. He had a few notes to go over before his conference in London as well as some loose ends to tie up here so he could take Sunday off to go with Medea to the Healer. Only when he stepped into his office all SANE thoughts were lost.

This was worse than receiving that love letter from Meri-berry. The one he was TRYING to forget about entirely because it had sent his head spinning off into orbit to potentially become a satellite for some distant exoplanet.

No. He would GLADLY take 100 of those letter over this sight.

GLADLY.

Mouth hanging open wide as the gap between the Earth and the moon - wide enough to fit all the planets between, for the record. Even Pluto, despite its non planet status - the Astronomy professor willed for sound to come out but it was as though he had been struck by both Silencio and Petrificus Totalus at the exact same moment.

HIS MECHA HAD TURNED AGAINST HIM! EVEN THE DEFORMED ONE DILIGENTLY, BUT CLUMSILY, CRAFTED BY A CERTAIN FORMER HUFFLEPUFF HEAD BOY HAD TURNED AGAINST HIM. NO WHY?!

AND SWEET SOLSTICE NOT ONLY THE MECHA BUT HIS ~~PRECIOUS BABIES~~ STAR TREK ACTION FIGURES AS WELL. NOT YOU TOO SPOCK. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. NO MCCOY YOU'RE A TOY NOT A DEMONIC DEVICE!

Under normal circumstances he would blame Medea for this considering she was the only person who knew how to remove the wards surrounding his office to let someone in seeing as she had placed them herself after his tie had been stolen several terms ago, but not even SHE would be this cruel. Daphne? No...he doubted she would bother to waste all the time it took to execute something like this....

BUT THEN WHO?!

"KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!" the professor roared, seeing the very figure making its appearance from behind his desk and gallivanting towards him.

Turning quickly in place, and tangling his legs in Pebbles' leash in the process, he began his escape attempt only to fall flat on his face in the threshold in his office.

ET TU, PEBBLES?!

The far off cackling can barely be heard over the whirring, stomping and laser-beam noises coming from the terrifying toy army as it advances after its' owner... but the chill in the air, the flickering of the candle flames is as obvious as daylight...

With determination and not a drop left of loyalty the figurines processed, traversing the short distance with more speed than would be believed before crawling onto the fallen body of the great Astronomy Professor as if he were nothing but a meager log... As one, they moved over and across his length in a stampede of tiny proportion.

Undeterred, undaunted, they rush over the professor leaving dust in his hair, upon his skin.... And most cruelly of all... On his suit...

Onward! Onward! Onward they march! Through the door, through the hall. Nothing can stop them...

Felixir · 03-06-2016, 01:08 AM

SPOILER!!: Aireeey

As absorbed in the act of reading as he was, Daxton had made quite some progress with the stolen book by the time he thought to look up from it again. It was difficult to say how much time had passed, though it was likely not too long; Daxton was a fast reader, he had made short work of much longer books in the past.

Feeling slightly annoyed with himself for losing track of time, Daxton looked towards Airey Flamsteed, still sitting there, now also reading. He watched the professor for a moment, shooting a glance at the title of his book when he had the chance. After a moment's pause, he turned back to his own book again. Another pause, and Daxton nudged his book away, so that it slid away from him, off the sofa, and hit the floor with a loud and obvious thud.

Still splayed out across the sofa, Daxton folded his arms over his chest and let out a huff of frustration, mixed with a sigh; the most vocal he had ever been in the presence of Airey Flamsteed, or indeed any one else in the school.

sweetpinkpixie · 03-07-2016, 11:19 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Felixir

As absorbed in the act of reading as he was, Daxton had made quite some progress with the stolen book by the time he thought to look up from it again. It was difficult to say how much time had passed, though it was likely not too long; Daxton was a fast reader, he had made short work of much longer books in the past.

Feeling slightly annoyed with himself for losing track of time, Daxton looked towards Airey Flamsteed, still sitting there, now also reading. He watched the professor for a moment, shooting a glance at the title of his book when he had the chance. After a moment's pause, he turned back to his own book again. Another pause, and Daxton nudged his book away, so that it slid away from him, off the sofa, and hit the floor with a loud and obvious thud.

Still splayed out across the sofa, Daxton folded his arms over his chest and let out a huff of frustration, mixed with a sigh; the most vocal he had ever been in the presence of Airey Flamsteed, or indeed any one else in the school.

Engrossed in his book, the Astronomy professor forgot to glance up occasionally at the Ravenclaw. Until he heard the dull thud of the book being dropped to the floor. Purposefully, he was certain. Clearing his own throat, Airey placed his bookmark back inside the binding and casually closed the book. Upon leaning back to drop it on his desk, the professor leaned forward - elbows to knees - and observed the Mr. Prince and all his frustrations.

The book, now discarded to the floor, elicited an subtly but amused smirk from the suited astronomer. Removing his wand from his pocket, he summoned the book back to his person and used it to salute to the Ravenclaw. Then it too was placed on his desk beside the other.

Wand still out, he gave it a wiggle towards Mr. Prince but cast no spell just yet in the young man's direction. "Were I to remove the spell on your hand, Mr. Prince," he spoke, eyes on the fleshy knob. "Would you then use your renewed dexterity to explain to me why you so willingly attempted to steal from my office?"

Especially considering how he knew that he knew that he knew that he....uh....however that whole bit worked out.

Quote:

Originally Posted by The Narrator

The far off cackling can barely be heard over the whirring, stomping and laser-beam noises coming from the terrifying toy army as it advances after its' owner... but the chill in the air, the flickering of the candle flames is as obvious as daylight...

With determination and not a drop left of loyalty the figurines processed, traversing the short distance with more speed than would be believed before crawling onto the fallen body of the great Astronomy Professor as if he were nothing but a meager log... As one, they moved over and across his length in a stampede of tiny proportion.

Undeterred, undaunted, they rush over the professor leaving dust in his hair, upon his skin.... And most cruelly of all... On his suit...

Onward! Onward! Onward they march! Through the door, through the hall. Nothing can stop them...

The astronomer was between a rock and a hard place - almost quite literally considering he was tangled up in Pebbles' leash on the floor in his office. But HOW could he FIGHT BACK against his figurines and models?!

THERE WAS NO WAY THAT HE COULD! THAT'S HOW!

Wiggling, cautiously so he wouldn't damage any of his collectibles, Airey somehow got his legs untangled from the leash and rolled out of the way of the tiny army. Blue eyes glaring wildly around his office, there was no sign of human intrusion anywhere.

And there WOULD have been for certain. So not a human...then...

.................................................

"PEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVES! SHOW YOURSELFYOU BLOODY POLTERGEIST!"

Felixir · 03-08-2016, 12:45 PM

SPOILER!!:

Purposefully? Daxton? No. No. Not at all. Never.

He could see Airey Flamsteed out of the corner of his eye, but had decided to avoid looking at him now, particularly after ~~pushing~~ dropping the book onto the floor. Keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead, Daxton fiddled at his sleeve with his functional right hand and remained still.

It seemed that, even though the move with the book had been one borne of frustration rather than anything calculated, Daxton had inadvertently managed to coax something out of the professor. A reaction.

Finally.

Not until Airey Flamsteed spoke did Daxton look at him again, though he had been watching carefully in the edges of his vision. His eyes snapped automatically to the wand, and it took a moment for Daxton to process exactly what the Astronomer was saying to him. But process it he did, and the Ravenclaw responded with a nod of the head.

It had been an automatic response, but in actuality Daxton was not entirely sure of just what kind of an answer he might give, nor was he even all that sure of what the most honest answer was, though that part did not matter so much. He just needed to be convincing in whatever he said, not necessarily truthful.

Shuffling around on the sofa again, so he was back to sitting up, Daxton held out the flesh-coloured nub at his left wrist, where his hand used to be, so that it could be changed back with no further delay. He turned that piercing gaze of his onto Airey Flamsteed - though never directly into his eyes - his expression just shy of a characteristic scowl, and waited, though he half-expected it to be a trick, a joke to get his hopes up, a laugh at his expense. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

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