Closed Staying Out of Trouble

Arvel Ayers

Passive | St Mungo's Cleaner
Messages
723
OOC First Name
Claire
Blood Status
Half Blood
Relationship Status
Single
Sexual Orientation
Bisexual
Age
11/2033 (26)
Arvel was not having the best of mornings. First of all, he'd overslept and been late for his first class. Then he'd misplaced an essay that had taken him six hours to write over the holidays. And then he'd accidentally bumped shoulders with Analei as they left the classroom. He was starting to think he should just crawl back into bed and sleep the rest of the day away, before something else happened and made him snap. That would just be perfect. Lunchtime detention with Professor Pendleton. He'd been to that man's office several times, never for a good reason, and he was beginning to actively avoid the second floor corridor for fear of bumping into him.

Chin tucked into his chest, Arvel hurried along the corridor. He had nowhere in particular to be, but didn't much feel like sitting around by himself; walking made him look as if he had a purpose even when he didn't. Not really looking where he was going, he turned the corner.
 
Asphodel hadn't had the worst holidays, and being back at school didn't put her in a bad mood - she just felt rumbly. It was hard for the teen to express the way she truly felt, and whether it was the fact that she felt strangely about her friendship with Vader, or if it was the fact that she felt poorly about herself for who she used to be. Her father and her had had quite the heart to heart that Christmas, going through old photos from when Pho was a baby and discussing the inevitability of Asphodel's future. What was the Slytherin going to do in her future? Her grades weren't stellar. Not terrible but could be better. She wasn't outgoing perse, and her hot headed nature often got her in trouble. But Pho had resigned herself not to get into any fights this year. That was until a child ran smack into her, knocking her into reality.

Had Asphodel been paying attention? Of course not. But did that make it her fault? Absolutely not. Not in her mind anyways. "Merlin f***ing sh**" She swore before turning to look at whom she'd nearly run down. "Oi boy!" The Aussie spoke rather loudly for it just being the two of them in the corridor.
"Watch where you're goiong you ******* blind bat."
 
Arvel wasn't sure if he walked into the girl, or she walked into him - he'd tried to stop when he saw her, but by that point they'd already collided. Either way, he was perfectly ready to apologise - until she started hurling abuse at him. His face turned bright red, heart thumping. What in the world? Where was this coming from? "Wow," he said, when she was finished. "Okay. Did I... do something to you?" He really, genuinely wanted to know. He couldn't remember having said anything rude about Asphodel, but he could easily have forgotten about it.
 
Asphodel raised her ginger eyebrows into her hairline and looked at the boy whom didn't even bother to start off with an apology for trying to give her a concussion. She scoffed. "Do something to me? Are you ******* mental? You nearly ran me down, and now you aren't even bloody apologizing. ****." She spoke angrily. Perhaps her rage was misdirected, after all the kid hadn't really hurt her necessarily, it was just that she felt he owed her an apology and hadn't been decent enough to give it. Rolling her eyes Pho looked at him again. "Well?" She asked, waiting for the apology she felt she was owed.
 
Arvel wasn't sure what to say. He didn't think it was his fault; they'd both walked into one another, so if Arvel owed Asphodel an apology, that meant she owed him one as well. He continued to stare at her, utterly bewildered. Never had he heard anyone swear so vehemently before. He might have felt bad, except that he was too busy feeling bemused, and a little bit sorry for her, because she clearly had issues. "Calm down," he said, an unhelpful attempt to diffuse the situation. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" He wasn't going to apologise until she stopped swearing at him.
 
Asphodel's doe eyes were narrowed, if looks could kill the boy would have been dead seconds ago. It wasn't his fault he chose poor words, but the moment the boy spoke to her, asking her if she kissed her mother with that mouth, the ginger felt something in her well up and snap quickly. "Excuse me? You puss filled, maggot eating... What did you just say to me?" She grabbed hold of the boy's shoulder, bunching the material up in her hand of his top. How dare someone speak about her mother in any context.
 
Arvel tried to take a step back, but found he couldn't move very far. "I said... calm down," he stuttered, his eyes darting between Asphodel's. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't push her away, or he'd get into trouble. He definitely couldn't hex her. He couldn't do anything to defend himself at all. "Please," he said lamely, "let me go." Why did this sort of thing always happen to him?
 
Pho felt no mercy when it came to him groveling. "That's not what I meant, kiss my mother? Assuming I kiss corpses?" She asked, before taking a swing on the boy, hoping to connect with a nose, a jawline, anything that would release the sudden amount of pain she had thinking about her mother. She supposed it wouldn't be so painful, but Holidays were always extra hard for the ginger who wondered what she did to not deserve having a mother - or what her father did to deserve staring at pictures of his late wife at night when he thought Pho was asleep.
 
Arvel was trying desperately to figure out what Asphodel meant, and it had just clicked when he took the full force of her fist to his nose. Blood flowed. Stars exploded. He raised his arm over his face instinctively to protect himself from further blows, staggering backwards until he hit the wall. Then he sank to the floor, curling into himself like a frightened pill bug. His entire face throbbed. All he'd done was ask a question. There was literally nothing he could do any more without walking straight into trouble.
 
When Asphodel pulled her first back she saw the blood and suddenly all the hot anger in her body fled, and she felt her eyes go wide. So much for staying out of trouble, she thought. Her fist still clenched she let go of the boy quickly, and the Slytherin took a step or two back. It was obvious from the look on her face she felt remorse for allowing the anger to get the best of her, but she did nothing to speak of it, and instead turned and hurried down the hallway - obviously feeling as if she'd truly screwed up already. Her father, if he ever found out, would be truly disappointed and she knew her mother watching from wherever her spirit was, was disappointed as well.
 
Hearing footsteps recede down the corridor, Arvel tentatively lifted his head. Asphodel was gone. A steady stream flowed from the Hufflepuff's nose, and did nothing in the way of let up when he pinched the bridge of it and rolled his head back. This was perfect. Really, really perfect. He closed his eyes and sighed through his mouth, trying to think of a good reason to move. His nose didn't feel broken, but there had been a definite crunch on impact that suggested he should probably get it checked out by a nurse. It was just so embarrassing. How would he explain? He couldn't say he got punched in the face, that was for sure. He was trying to avoid trouble, not create it; the last thing he needed was to start a war. Until he figured out what to do, he decided to stay where he was.
 

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