an inky situation pv: enoch weiss

The thing about libraries is that time becomes strange when one is in one. Even if there are markers of time passing, like clocks or natural light, they fade into the background - the only markers of change are the shifting patterns of students, coming in and out of the space. Sometimes, it even becomes easy to forget that other people exist, if you find the right seat, become engrossed enough in your work. Asteria was not having one of those fortuitous days however. Instead, she stared off into the distance, chewing on the end of her pen, eyes glazed over as she stared at her Transfiguration assignment. The graphs and patterns for that glass had a tendency of swirling together in her brain, not wanting to be pinned down or understood by her. It was an unfortunate fact, especially as the end of the term loomed closer, marked by the colder weather and grey skies that seemed all consuming.Work was a constant, and the dreariness made her even less likely to want to continue on, especially through something that she personally found a slog.

What I really need, she found herself thinking, still chewing on her pen, is a distraction. Life at Hogwarts had a tendency towards the chaotic, and this... lull she found herself in at the moment felt baffling. Around her shuffled the calm patterns of students reading papers, the scratches of pens (and the occasional quill) on parchment, the creak of old wood and carpet as someone made their way to the stacks. The rhythms of the space  added to the effect of feeling stifled. It was enough to drive a girl to madness, she thought. Sighing, she pulled herself up, stretching both of her arms, and glanced around the table she had cloistered herself at. The only other person present was a Gryffindor boy, his nose furiously buried in a book, scattered notes surrounding him, which he occasionally grabbed towards him, adding a quick note to the sprawl. Giving a short nod to him, she nearly skipped into the shelves, needing both a break and another book to dig through for a graph that might explain everything to her.

Eventually, she settled back down at her spot, idly feeling out for a pen to take notes with as she leafed through the book in front of her. Her hands closed around the pen, and she began to take notes, when -BANG- things began to go very, very wrong. Ink exploded from the pen, covering most of her that was in the direct path of it and she began to blink furiously, not willing to let it get in her eyes. How had this happened? she wondered, her mind a wild whirl of thoughts, chasing each other like a dog after its tail. She began to rub at her face, trying to get the ink off, but even this felt pointless, as her hands were also covered in ink.Sighing, she stared up at the ceiling in exasperation, cursing her tendency towards bad luck and began to crumple up her robes in her hands, wiping at her face with them.

@Enoch Weiss