Closed Problem Child

Jacob Kingsley

HNZ Alum | Gryffindor
 
Messages
1,252
OOC First Name
Cyndi
Blood Status
Mixed Blood
Relationship Status
Single
Wand
Knotted 12 Inch Rigid Larch Wand with Mermaid Scale Core
Age
8/2034
Jacob Kingsley knew right from wrong as well as anyone his age, perhaps even a little more than students his age. But, the people who had imparted that knowledge on him were not his favorite people at the moment. No, they were nearly on par with some other people he disliked like Diana Holland and Analei Louw. On second thought, they were worse because they were supposed to be family and instead of keeping everyone together, they were ripping his whole world apart. Noah was at Durmstrang and he wasn't allowed to join him. Eleanor got to be with their dad, and he was stuck with his mom who he blamed the most out of everyone. That was why he had a dungbomb in his pocket.

Reaching for the doorknob, Jacob tried it gingerly after he had put his ear to the door and heard nothing. It turned for a second, his hopes lifting, and then stopped. Locked. Jacob's expression darkened and he turned the knob again, not expecting a different result. Magic didnt help either, increasing the boy's frustration and he found himself kicking at the door when nothing happened. No matter. He pulled out a marker and worked to undo the top. If he couldn't get in, he'd just leave a message on the door for dear ol' mom.
 
Tristan wasn't in the best mood, having just come from an Arithmancy lesson. Every time he went to one of the lessons, he wondered why on earth he was wasting his time with it, as it soured his mood every time without exception. He wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings until he noticed Jacob Kingsley standing near one of the office doors on this floor. He wasn't really in the mood to chat, but knew that walking past him and ignoring him might not be a good idea. He liked having a good relationship with the boy, and it was kind of nice that he seemed to look up to Tristan. But then he noticed the boy was kicking the door. For one moment, Tristan considered turning around and pretending not to have seen anything, but when he saw Jacob pull out a marker, he knew he couldn't say nothing. Still, he wasn't nearly as harsh as he would have been with a less well-connected younger student. "Jacob, I think leaving a note might be a better idea." He said lightly. He noticed then that the office they were standing in front of was Jacob's mother's door. Tristan glanced at the nameplate, raising his eyebrows slightly as he looked back at Jacob. "What's going on?"
 
Jacob took the levity in Tristan's voice to mean that he didn't really care what was going on and that he wouldn't tell anyone. It was a lot to take from just a few words, but the third year was particularly skilled at hearing what he wanted. "That's the plan" he added with a smirk. The marker was uncapped but he couldn't think of anything quite right to say. A lot flitted through his mind, but nothing felt perfect enough. Jacob still had his back to Tristan but turned his head at Tristan's next words which didn't feel quite as light. That couldn't be. Tristan had always been really cool, and even if he was a prefect now, he couldn't see Tristan getting him in trouble. "I'm leaving a note, just like you suggested" he said, his voice a little tighter, his guard slightly higher.

"Nothing to see here" he forced a smile before making a gesture of dismissal towards Tristan. He was going to bring too much attention and he knew he had to get rid of the dungbombs before they went off.
 
Tristan had assumed that Jacob would read the situation the way he had intended. Sure, he wasn't getting him into trouble, but that didn't mean he was off the hook and could continue doing what he was doing. He had simply meant it as a moment of turning a blind eye, letting the boy get away with it. Something he wouldn't have done for anyone else in Jacob's year, he was sure. Tristan put his hand on the door with a frown. "I suggest you do it on a piece of paper, or we'll have a problem." He said, the warmth drained from his voice now. "Jacob, I don't want to get you into trouble, but I can't just ignore this. So do us both a favor and quit while you're ahead. Then I can ignore it." The little gesture of dismissal made Tristan's eyebrow twitch in annoyance. Who did this kid think he was? Dismissing Tristan as if he was an insignificant person and not someone with power over him. Tristan knew he was the son of the former minister, but had never thought it made him entitled. Suddenly feeling resentful of the boy, he decided to add another warning. "I'll go straight to your mother, as she's your head of house. I'm sure neither of us wants that." He added, still trying to soften it because he didn't want to waste any possible connections he would make through Jacob just because the boy was annoying him. Even though his words were more understanding than they would have been with anyone else, his voice was firm.
 
Jacob turned his head towards Tristan as he put his hand on the door. He frowned as Tristan spoke, annoyed that he wasn't going to just walk away. That he was choosing to be a prefect and not his friend. To Jacob, a friend would help make sure no one was coming and let him do what he wanted to not try to stop him. "Then I wouldn't be doing anything and you wouldn't have to ignore anything anyway" he replied, his frown deepening. Then, his jaw dropped wide open. Jacob Kingsley stared at the older boy who stood beside him. He had not been expecting Tristan's next words. Not at all. Jacob had always looked up to Tristan, had always felt that Tristan got him. "You wouldn't do that to me" he said, his voice full of betrayal as he tried to come to terms with this new Tristan he was seeing. Jacob thought he was different, but clearly he'd been mistaken. "I thought you were my friend. But, you're not. You're just...you're a...you're..." he threw the marker down in frustration. " You happy now, fun-sucker?"
 
Tristan sighed softly as he saw Jacob's expression. Maybe he had been too harsh to the boy, but for anyone else he would have already gone to a professor. Didn't he realize Tristan had a job to do? That as a prefect, he had a certain duty? "I mean I can ignore you standing with a marker in your hand near a door. I can't ignore you writing on it." He told him, trying to soften his voice. But it was too late, he had said something that made Jacob not trust him. Perhaps if he had taken a different approach and asked what was going on first, the boy would have opened up to him. That didn't seem likely know. He sighed again. "Jacob, I don't want to do that to you. I'm already being more lenient than I should because you are my friend." He tried not to show his annoyance at the childish behavior. "I don't get what's fun about writing on a professor's door, but either way, I simply can't just let you do that in front of me. You must understand that." He picked up the marker and held it out to Jacob, hoping he would at least take this small gesture in a good way. "If something's going on, you can always find someone to talk to. I can listen, as can prefects in your own house, if you don't want to talk to a professor." He wasn't sure if Jacob would hear this now, but it was all he could say. The disrespect still annoyed him, but he realized now he had to try to salvage this if he could, without his own pride getting in the way.
 
Jacob was too angry to be agreeable and he gave Tristan a face as he asked him to understand why he was doing what he was doing. He was behaving...like an adult. Jacob knew Tristan was older than him. It was why he had liked getting advice from Tristan, but even then he'd thought of Tristan like a friend. Not like he was now. He was acting like an adult, ruining anything fun and completely misunderstanding him. "No, I don't understand, Tristan" he said, a bratty tone to his voice. He stared at the marker Tristan was holding out, a strong desire to slap it out of his own nearly overtaking him. But he didn't trust Tristan enough to not go through on his threat to take him to his mom. He narrowed his eyes behind his glasses. "When did you become so...boring?" he said the last word as an insult because he meant it as one. Jacob wondered if he'd just never noticed.
 
Tristan had to force himself not to roll his eyes at Jacob's expression. He was being such a... kid about all this. And an annoying one at that. He had enjoyed previous interactions with the boy, especially because he'd always gotten the sense that Jacob admired him. That seemed to be over now, though Tristan was hopeful that he could repair the damage when Jacob wasn't in as weird a mood as this one. He honestly had no idea what to make of this, as this wasn't really like the kid he'd come to know. "Yes you do. You're not stupid." He said, dismissing Jacob's insistence that he didn't understand. "I'm a prefect, that comes with responsibility." He sighed, knowing he wasn't getting through to him. He raised his eyebrows slightly when Jacob asked when he'd become so boring, a little amused by the question. "Maybe around the same time you became the kind of kid that wrote on professor's office doors. I don't get why you're doing that." He said, gesturing to the door with the marker he still held. "What's going on, Jacob?" He wasn't insulted by being called boring, especially when his idea of 'fun' was apparently pulling stunts like this. If he was mad at his mother, there were way smarter ways to go about getting back at her, ones that were less likely to be caught out. But he supposed Jacob was a true Gryffindor and didn't think things through. Or maybe he'd wanted to be caught.
 
"I'm not telling you anything. You'd probably just go to my mom" he accused, still not able to let that go. It had felt like the ultimate betrayal to Jacob even if he had walked back the statement a little bit. It had still hurt Jacob's feelings. The only other person who had done anything like that was Professor Pendleton who always went to his mother whenever he did anything wrong. "And even if you didn't, you're a prefect now. Not my friend" he added, crossing his arms across his chest. "I'm leaving now. Don't follow me" he said and then he turned around and began walking off. He broke into a jog and when he turned the corner, reached into his pocket and threw the dungbomb down before continuing to jog off. It brought him some small measure of pleasure and he was happy to unload the illegal school item before he returned to his common room. Now, he just needed to find a bathroom to clean the evidence from his hands.
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top