Closed Headfirst

[Blake van Houten]

It was totally unfair that Blake hadn't gotten to play in Slytherin's Quidditch match at ALL this semester. Yeah he was young, but Blake knew he had what it took. If he had been playing, there was no way Hufflepuff would have won. Blake was determined to make sure that when he got a chance to play, he was going to be the best. So he had decided to get some practice in, to really make sure he was on top of his game. Someone else was using the pitch right now, and Blake didn't want anyone to see his super cool moves, so he had taken a toy snitch out to the lakeside, to practice grabbing it. The toy snitch was an old one, that wouldn't go higher than Blake could reach from the ground, perfect to run after and catch at high speed. Running back and forth across the grass, Blake was slowly beginning to become more confident in his ability to catch the ball, letting it get further and further before bolting after it. One one particular chase the snitch took a swerve Blake hadn't anticipated, and he didn't have any time to correct his course before running straight through the paints of a boy sitting by the lake. Since the damage was already done, paint kicked across paper and grass, Blake kept running a moment, catching the snitch quickly before turning back to see how much wreckage he had caused. Oops. "Sorry about that." He said, giving the boy what he hoped was a winning enough smile to keep him out of trouble.

 

[Lars van Houten]

While Hogwarts had been fine, and even a lot of fun at times, Lars still didn't quite feel at home here. Being one of the youngest students, he often felt like he was either ignored or looked at strangely by older students. Then there were his classmates, who he wasn't really connecting with too much on his own. He had become friends with Nell, or at least friendly, but that had been Fleur's doing. His roommate Etienne was nice, as was the boy he had met in the arts room, but he hadn't spoken to either boy a lot. He knew that was on him, he had always been shy and quiet, often spending time by himself drawing or painting. Most of the time he liked it that way, but sometimes he did feel a bit lonely.

Because he hadn't felt very much at home yet at Hogwarts, Lars hadn't spent much time painting yet. He'd tried to paint the view of the forest from his bedroom window while in the arts room, but it was always difficult to paint something from memory. But taking canvas and paints out into the open was always a risk. People could see him and start asking questions, or worse, make fun of him. But today he had been really inspired, and had gathered his courage to take paper and paints to the lake. Painting water was always a little tricky, but it was definitely also a lot of fun and could give beautiful results. He had set up his supplies so he could paint easily while looking over at the water, and had a small smile on his face as he started mixing the perfect color for the lake. The further he looked, the darker the water was. It was a beautiful dark blue with hints of green that he really wanted to recreate well. He had mixed a color he liked, and was carefully using his brush to indicate where he was going to paint the water and where the shore would begin. Then he started filling it in, using his strokes to create small waves and texture on the water.

He was caught up in the process of painting, and didn't hear anyone or anything around him. So when a boy suddenly ran through his set-up, kicking his pants everywhere and startling him greatly, Lars yelped in surprise and fell back. Some of the paint the boy had kicked had landed on him, and as he sat up he looked down at the green streaks on his clothes. Then he looked over at the paper, and saw to his dismay that his painting had been ruined. Random splotches of color were everywhere, and he saw the blue color he had mixed together had been knocked over and was now pouring onto the ground. He had been feeling so good about this, and now it felt like he had been slapped awake. Why had he decided to try this? The boy returned, and Lars looked up at him as he said sorry and smiled. He was silent for a long moment, as he realized to his horror that the shock of this situation and his disappointment about his painting were about to make him cry. Lars hated crying in front of other people, especially people he didn't know. He thought he knew this one from his year, but that only made it worse. He swallowed thickly and shrugged, not daring himself to speak. he averted his eyes as they filled with tears, and tried to keep his lips from tugging down in a telltale way. But then he had to rub at one of his eyes before any tears could fall, and he was sure it was obvious he was upset. "Couldn't you... have run around me?" He asked, his voice timid and shaky.

 

[Blake van Houten]

Assessing the damage, Blake quickly realised he wasn't gonna get away with this easily. The kid whose things he had knocked over looked extremely upset, and Blake glanced around quickly to make sure there weren't any teachers nearby. "I was already running, I didn't have any time to stop, not my fault you were in the way." He retorted, looking back at the boy. "Are you gonna cry? Come on, it's just a bunch of paint." Blake said quickly, trying to cheer him up. "Don't be a wimp."

 

[Lars van Houten]

Lars looked at the boy nervously, wondering if he was going to apologize or at least help him clean up the mess. He felt a little annoyed, but mostly upset. He really just wanted to get back inside and forget this ever happened, but he also wanted to go back to the feeling he had while he was painting the water. But instead he said it wasn't his fault Lars was in the way, and Lars flinched slightly. Then he drew attention to the fact that Lars was nearly crying, which only made it harder not to actually start. "I'm not." He said quickly, though he blinked a lot to keep the tears at bay. "And I'm not a wimp. You... You could have looked while you were running, or before. I was just sitting here. Painting the lake." He said, swallowing back his tears after a few moments. He didn't want this boy to make fun of him, and thought that he might just do that. He averted his gaze. "It wasn't my fault either." He said softly, but firmly.

 

[Blake van Houten]

Blake's face fell a little more when his words didn't seem to do anything to calm the boy down. He looked even more like he was going to cry, and Blake didn't know what to do with this. "Come on, don't be a girl, it's just paint." He added, echoing one of his father's favourite phrases when he was upset. "It's not a big deal." Blake didn't really understand how anyone could get this upset over some paint, but that was the situation he found himself in, so he had to deal with this now.

 

[Lars van Houten]

Lars looked back at the boy silently, wondering if he was finally going to apologize or help him clean up. Instead, the boy told him not to be a girl, something that made Lars clench his fists. Of course this boy couldn't know he had been called a girl or girly more often than he could count, but that didn't mean he should say stuff like that. "I'm not a girl because I'm upset." He said, his voice louder now, and less shaky. "That's a stupid thing to say." He frowned. "And it's a big deal to me. I was making a painting and you ruined it, it's not just paint, it's my time and work and you haven't even apologized." He wasn't sure where this was coming from, but his anger and annoyance had surpassed his sadness, and he was glad about it. The urge to cry had passed, instead he was frowning at the boy in front of him. Lars got to his feet, noticing he was taller than the other boy which reassured him a little. Ignoring the stains on his legs, he reached down to grab his painting, sighing as he saw it was completely wrinkled and had a clear footprint on it. He sighed softly, then showed the boy.

 

[Blake van Houten]

Blake was relieved when he at least got the other boy to stop crying. He looked angry now, but that was at least an emotion Blake could deal with more easily than crying. "Don't freak out, it's just a saying." Blake retorted, relieved that it had done the trick. He felt a frown furrow his brow though as the boy went on, insisting he hadn't apologised. "Hey, I said sorry!" Blake snapped back. "I didn't even mean to do it, it's not my fault!" Blake looked at the stomped canvas, which just looked like a big smeary mess to him. He couldn't tell which parts were the painting this boy was so upset about, and which parts were his mess. "Well that's just an excuse for you to do another one!" He commented, wondering why the boy wouldn't welcome a chance to try again.

 

[Lars van Houten]

Lars huffed in annoyance, wanting this boy to go away already. "It's a dumb saying. My sister is a girl and she never cries, and I do sometimes. It's not bad to cry." He said, not sure why he was so annoyed about this. It just seemed like this boy was representing everyone who ever said anything bad about Lars not being as rough as other boys, and showing his emotions sometimes. He just didn't understand why that had to be something for girls. He sighed. "You can't say sorry and then say it wasn't your fault. When it clearly was." He pointed out quietly as he started picking up the rest of his supplies. He would assess the damage to the paints when he was back inside. He glanced at the boy when he said it was just an excuse to do another one. "Right. Will you let me know when you won't be running around here so I know when I can do another one?" He asked, emboldened by his own annoyance. "Thank you." He added, putting his paints in his bag along with his paintbrush.

 

[Blake van Houten]

Blake rolled his eyes as Lars went on and on, nitpicking his words. Whining about how it wasn't girly to cry didn't really do anything for Blake's impression of him as a wimp. Tilting his head to the side, Blake squared his shoulders unconsciously, trying to cut a more imposing silhouette. "Hey, I told you, the snitch flew right over you, I was going too fast to stop!" He responded, stepping closer as he defended himself. The other boy was annoyingly taller, but Blake was fairly sure he could take him if the boy tried anything. "I'm done practicing, but I might trample your next painting now 'cause you were rude to me." He snapped, a clear challenge.

 

[Lars van Houten]

Lars' bravery melted like snow in summer as the other boy stepped closer to him. He was shorter than Lars, but also seemingly a lot stronger. Lars didn't have a lot of strength, and he was sure this boy could push him over if he wanted. He swallowed, staring at him with wide eyes as he threatened to trample his next painting. Lars had wanted to say something about how he should probably practice on the Quidditch Pitch, but the words died in his throat. He tried to think of a good retort to the boys words about the next painting, but couldn't think of anything good. "That's... not very nice." He said, knowing it was lame. He took a small step back. When he was in his dorm, hours later, he would undoubtedly think of a bunch of good responses to him. But now all he could do was stare at him mutely, hoping he would go away.

 

[Blake van Houten]

Blake rolled his eyes at the boy's weak defense. At least he didn't even seem interested in pretending it wasn't weak. "Well, you weren't being very nice to me." Blake retorted firmly, but he let the tension in his fists release. He didn't want to draw any attention, didn't want anyone seeing him as a bully. This whole thing had taken up his afternoon, and he was ready to call it quits. Laughing idly, Blake clapped the boy on the shoulder, his tone dismissive now. "Cheer up, bro, toughen up. It's a beautiful day." He grinned, inclining his head towards the boy once, then turned and wandered back towards the lawn.

 

[Lars van Houten]

Lars looked at the boy nervously, unsure of what to say when he said he wasn't being nice to him. He hadn't been mean, he didn't think. It wasn't him who had ruined something of the other boy's. But he couldn't find the words to defend himself. Instead, he shrugged weakly. When the boy clapped him on the shoulder, Lars winced. He stared at him silently as he told him to cheer up, and toughen up. Then he walked away. Angry splotches of color appeared on Lars' cheeks, and he wished he could have thought of something else to say. Instead, he tore his gaze away from the rude boy and started picking up the rest of his things.