Closed A Regular Thing

Amodeus Jones

Amodeus Jones

Clueless ~ Adorable ~ Soft
 
Messages
300
OOC First Name
Jess S
Blood Status
Mixed Blood
Relationship Status
Too Young to Care
Wand
Knotted 10 Inch Whippy Fir Wand with Unicorn Hair Core
Age
13 (9/23/2048)
Amodeus was sitting in the hospital wing- again. He'd forgotten to tie his shoes, had been watching a bird that had gotten into the castle, and had tripped down half a flight of stairs. His nose was bleeding, his lip was busted, and he felt a bit bruised, but it wasn't all that bad really. He was humming, braiding a few strips of fabric he'd found in his pocket and just waiting for one of the nurses to come out and help him. He was sure he knew them all by now- being clumsy around so many stairs was a dangerous thing, after all.
 
Isabella Romanes had been having a rather odd year with Quidditch. With Celia gone, it seemed like there were a lot less injuries. It did make things interesting to say the least. She walked out of her office after she heard someone come in, and saw a student that she knew she had treated before. He truly was a clumsy one, wasn't he? "Um, mister Jones, isn't it?" Isabella walked around the bed to see what damage that was done. Oh dear. "Before I heal you, what happened this time?" Isabella asked, as she wanted to make sure it was not some brat that was doing this to the Gryffindor.​
 
Amodeus looked up when he heard the familiar voice, smiling brightly (despite the pain) at the nurse. "Hi Miss Romanes!" He greeted, blushing and ducking his head as she asked what had happened. "I, ah... I forgot to tie my shoes," He admitted. "Then I saw this gorgeous bird with like, auburn feathers that were so soft in the sunlight, and I was watching it swoop and dive and... might have walked right off the top of the stairs," He laughed bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck.
 
Isabella listened to his admission of what happened, and the story seemed to be truthful. She did not have a reason to believe not to otherwise. "I wanted to make sure that you weren't being bullied is all. You might need to have a padded suite if you keep this up." Isabella summoned the things that were needed to heal him up and make him good as new. Injuries were easy to heal, especially when they were not too serious like this one. If she could patch a team full of bludger hits then Jones here would have no problems. She then summoned a wet cloth and held it out to him to clean up his face. "You have got to be careful. If you want to watch something pretty, you should stop walking."​
 
Amodeus held as still as he could while the woman took care of him, giving her an easy smile as he took the wet cloth and washed himself up. "Yes ma'am," He agreed, stretching himself out a bit. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it- I just get so distracted sometimes," He admitted to her, before grimacing a bit. "A lot of people tell me I'm an idiot," He pulled the rag away. "I know I'm not really the smartest... I just can't help it."
 
Isabella nodded along as he said that she could not help it and how she got distracted at times. And then revealed how people called him an idiot. She raised an eyebrow, "People project often because of their own insecurities. Being clumsy and easily distracted has nothing to do with your intelligence. Remember that." Isabella wanted to comfort the poor boy, but she could only do as much as she could. "And just be yourself. And be careful. Too many trips down the stairs, and you might end up too injured for my potions and spells to work well."​
 
Amodeus was soothed by her words. He gave her a brighter smile. "Thank you!" He giggled. "I really appreciate that." He kept stretching, making sure he wasn't sore anywhere else. "I'll try to be more careful," He promised her, before smiling at her, eyes crinkling. "Am I okay to go?" He asked, ready to hop up.
 
Isabella could see that he meant well, and might have just needed the little boost of confidence. And then he asked if he was okay to go. Isabella laughed softly, "Of course you are." Isabella would never dream of holding someone hostage, even if they were hurting badly. It was their choice after all.​
 
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