PV FOR MARISSA NORTH
THE ink bled like blood out of the specific parameters he had set on the letterpress that did the newspaper issue. There was an issue about the issue and he was usually told that there was no issue in the first place if he wasn’t so fussy about it. But it was an issue and he ran on compulsive obsession. He was still learning it and he was just nothing but a novice at the magical press. Though he had done it wrong and now he was marking the Hufflepost like a tortured artist. But he was less artist and more tortured over the fact that he had done it wrong along with the last fifteen iterations of the paper. Curse the fates.
IF he paid attention to what he was doing instead of the snacks that he was offered, maybe he wouldn’t have to do this. But he had spent enough time working on the paper and set it aside from now, he knew someone else was supposed to come, but he didn’t recall who it was. He had a pack of cards from his pocket, one he had shamefully taken from his dad’s drawer back in Derby. While it wasn’t a big deal to his dad, Reid thought he had committed a crime. He truly only wanted it because he was dazzled by a street performing magician back in Derby, he had spent all his attention watching the man make cards disappear.
IT made him wonder if he truly was a magician or perhaps a wizard in disguise. On the upside, he could use it while he had them to do whatever he pleased. But there wasn’t much to do with them, he knew people played games with them but he knew nothing about card games. Reid also just wanted to be good at some weird obscure thing he could show his friends, most likely not to impress them. But it was worth a try and he had been reading up on how magicians made cards vanish and the such. To avoid any weird looks, he made enough room between himself and the table whilst keeping the deck under it.
HE started with the basics, the part where he was the clumsiest in. Reid had begun to try and shuffle the deck, a clunky and futile effort as he jammed the cards together. His technique was weak, as it should be for someone who began. It didn't frustrate him as much as he thought it would, but anytime spent from working on the Hufflepost was fine for him. He figured that eventually he would find his flow and be able to actually do the mundane things. Reid at least understood the fundamentals of technique, where to begin and where he could be if he just kept doing things. It kept his mind at ease, it made him feel productive instead of reading and circling the imperfections. His whole card practice was an imperfection, but at least he didn't feel so idle.
PERHAPS it was about a state of mind that he and others didn't share, especially the ones who fared well in academics. What kept him afloat were things like this, in times of failure, he found a medium to deny his doubts. He was working, maybe not on the thing he should be working on, but he was working. A few more minutes passed as his perfect posture turned into a slouch, that was until he caught a glimpse of the newspaper in the corner of his eye.
REID blankly gazed at it, sinking a little as the hands that held the cards slowed to a crawl. Eventually, they stopped to put the deck together and he forced them to place it on the table beside the paper. He scooted himself further and picked up his quill again to underline the things that were messed up. Granted he played a menial role in the press, but Reid took it seriously as he put a lot of pride into what he did. Regardless, he tried to stay on task and beat the clock. He had an hour left till he planned to go eat, it wouldn't hurt to focus a little harder.
sic parvis magna.
STA: 5, AGL: 7, STR: 14, CTL: 9