Learning the Lingo
@Kayden Mae Killian
[font=Segoe Print]
It was funny, because in any other situation, Rafael wouldn’t have ever had the desire to learn English linguistics.
It wasn’t as if he were ashamed of his upbringing, or anything. On the contrary, he had never been prouder of anything in his life. His country was his badge, a proud bragging rite he wore proudly in the face of everyone he came across. It was where he was from, his nation, the society in which he was raised – anything less would be an insult to his land, an utter slap across the face to all that had made him. Furthermore, his background, all the hardships and trial he had faces, the scars and bruises he had gained in the name of survival, were the very things that had pushed the boy to overcome the many obstacles that had been placed before him during these present times. [They had also triggered an anger issue within him, to be addressed at a later time.] As a result, his origins were something he had always revered in a proud light, his history a story he would proudly share with anyone who wished to hear.
Perhaps his accent was a different story. It wasn’t that he dislikes his linguistics – not in the least. On the contrary, it seemed as if everyone at the school had a differing accent in their voices, one that Rafa couldn’t say he shared. It got awkward on some occasions, having to dumb his accent down to a more American tone, his r’s flat instead of rolled, his words slowed down so that his mates could comprehend him. Not only that, but it seemed that some people thought low of his accent, as they seemed to slow their own words down, leaving him feeling irritated and inferior. English alone was a tricky language – it certainly didn’t help, being forced to struggle with the linguistics of his own accent.
That being said, his struggle for communication wasn’t the cause of his sudden interest. No, on the contrary, his reasons were much more secretive, so much so that one may have been able to use the word ‘shady’. Though, it wasn’t like he was about to even think them, in fear of his secrets tumbling out of his brain and into the open air.
No, instead of theorizing his next move, he had decided to take action, as he always seemed to do. Which is why he found himself in the library, sorting through the towering stacks of books in search for his title of interest. The room, he had long since realized, was a grand sort of place, the air full of must and the light streaming through the windows, basking the room in a warm, comforting sort of glow. The aura of the room was simply comforting, resembling a haven of safety among a school of chaos and disorder. Though it was far from the most peaceful place in the school, there was a certain air about it that could bring even the most wound-up of students to peace. It had obviously worked in some way, having brought Rafael’s own raging-lion nature to stillness in the heat of his irritability.
Well, somewhat. Rafael let out an impatient groan as his eyes skimmed the book covers of one of the towering shelves, the boy eagerly searching for a specific manual. Granted, his book-searching skills were a bit nonexistent – he wasn’t sure that, in the entirety of his stay at Hogwarts, he’d ever actually searched for a book in the library. Though, he supposed there was a first time for everything, as he certainly was making good headway already. [Then again, it could have done with his flexibility towards new things.] His eyes quickly scanning the shelves, his lip bit between his teeth, the boy avidly searched for his prize, his fingers brushing over the binding of the books with nimble agility, the same fingers that caught quaffles and threw punches –
“Ah,” he exhaled, pulling the book out from the clutches of the messy bookshelf. English Linguistics: Learning the Lingo. A relieved sigh escaped the boy’s lips as he eyed the book in an alleviated light, a satisfied grin pulling at the ends of his lips. Though his reasons for learning may have been strange, they certainly weren’t irrelevant regarding matters occurring throughout the school. For some reason, the fact that he was merely holding the book in his hands gave him a sense of victory, the feeling he gained after overcoming a massive challenge. His journey to conformity was only beginning, he had realized – perhaps he weren’t learning to fight, or cheat, or lie [any more than he already knew, anyways]. But, perhaps he was learning something more valuable – how to fit in. Keep his actions normal, his eyes peeled, and wait for the information to come to him…. Among other, more confidential reasons.
The silly thing was, though, with all this talk about keeping your eyes open, the boy certainly hadn’t noticed the new arrival. [/font]
[font=Segoe Print]
It was funny, because in any other situation, Rafael wouldn’t have ever had the desire to learn English linguistics.
It wasn’t as if he were ashamed of his upbringing, or anything. On the contrary, he had never been prouder of anything in his life. His country was his badge, a proud bragging rite he wore proudly in the face of everyone he came across. It was where he was from, his nation, the society in which he was raised – anything less would be an insult to his land, an utter slap across the face to all that had made him. Furthermore, his background, all the hardships and trial he had faces, the scars and bruises he had gained in the name of survival, were the very things that had pushed the boy to overcome the many obstacles that had been placed before him during these present times. [They had also triggered an anger issue within him, to be addressed at a later time.] As a result, his origins were something he had always revered in a proud light, his history a story he would proudly share with anyone who wished to hear.
Perhaps his accent was a different story. It wasn’t that he dislikes his linguistics – not in the least. On the contrary, it seemed as if everyone at the school had a differing accent in their voices, one that Rafa couldn’t say he shared. It got awkward on some occasions, having to dumb his accent down to a more American tone, his r’s flat instead of rolled, his words slowed down so that his mates could comprehend him. Not only that, but it seemed that some people thought low of his accent, as they seemed to slow their own words down, leaving him feeling irritated and inferior. English alone was a tricky language – it certainly didn’t help, being forced to struggle with the linguistics of his own accent.
That being said, his struggle for communication wasn’t the cause of his sudden interest. No, on the contrary, his reasons were much more secretive, so much so that one may have been able to use the word ‘shady’. Though, it wasn’t like he was about to even think them, in fear of his secrets tumbling out of his brain and into the open air.
No, instead of theorizing his next move, he had decided to take action, as he always seemed to do. Which is why he found himself in the library, sorting through the towering stacks of books in search for his title of interest. The room, he had long since realized, was a grand sort of place, the air full of must and the light streaming through the windows, basking the room in a warm, comforting sort of glow. The aura of the room was simply comforting, resembling a haven of safety among a school of chaos and disorder. Though it was far from the most peaceful place in the school, there was a certain air about it that could bring even the most wound-up of students to peace. It had obviously worked in some way, having brought Rafael’s own raging-lion nature to stillness in the heat of his irritability.
Well, somewhat. Rafael let out an impatient groan as his eyes skimmed the book covers of one of the towering shelves, the boy eagerly searching for a specific manual. Granted, his book-searching skills were a bit nonexistent – he wasn’t sure that, in the entirety of his stay at Hogwarts, he’d ever actually searched for a book in the library. Though, he supposed there was a first time for everything, as he certainly was making good headway already. [Then again, it could have done with his flexibility towards new things.] His eyes quickly scanning the shelves, his lip bit between his teeth, the boy avidly searched for his prize, his fingers brushing over the binding of the books with nimble agility, the same fingers that caught quaffles and threw punches –
“Ah,” he exhaled, pulling the book out from the clutches of the messy bookshelf. English Linguistics: Learning the Lingo. A relieved sigh escaped the boy’s lips as he eyed the book in an alleviated light, a satisfied grin pulling at the ends of his lips. Though his reasons for learning may have been strange, they certainly weren’t irrelevant regarding matters occurring throughout the school. For some reason, the fact that he was merely holding the book in his hands gave him a sense of victory, the feeling he gained after overcoming a massive challenge. His journey to conformity was only beginning, he had realized – perhaps he weren’t learning to fight, or cheat, or lie [any more than he already knew, anyways]. But, perhaps he was learning something more valuable – how to fit in. Keep his actions normal, his eyes peeled, and wait for the information to come to him…. Among other, more confidential reasons.
The silly thing was, though, with all this talk about keeping your eyes open, the boy certainly hadn’t noticed the new arrival. [/font]
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.
Learning the Lingo
@Rafael D'Spacito
As she stepped into the library, eyes wide and taking in every possibility of where she could sit and have some peace - there was a window, there, with a chair under it, tucked into a corner between two tall bookshelves; that would be ideal - Kayden Mae drummed her fingers against the soft and worn leather of her sketchbook. She had it tucked against her chest, with a pack of gel pens on top. Inside were countless drawings of half-done creatures against backdrops of Hogwarts, the train, and her backyard back home in Ireland. None were done with any great sort of skill - she wasn’t good at proportions - but the colors were vivid and beautiful, clashing at the right time and blending at others. She found another chair under a window, this one overlooking the courtyard, and her eyes lit up, already planning a bright red and yellow Chinese Fireball against the gray stone, brown trees, and white snow.
Kayden Mae glanced at the librarian, flashing a quick smile, and immediately bumped into another student, dropping her book and only barely catching her pens in a way that was not at all graceful.
“Oh, sorry - that was totally my fault,” she admitted with a flustered grin. Her words were with lightly accented an Irish tang, her ‘th’ in ‘that’ coming across slightly hard, almost like a ‘d,’ and ‘oh’ and the ‘o’ in ‘sorry’ were a little long. Her ‘r’s were hard, too, the most noticeable part, just a half step away from being rolled. She didn’t have much of an accent due to growing up in an area where the accent was thin. She didn’t speak with in the Irish dialect, either. Her mother had grown up in Britain until she was in her second year at Hogwarts, when her family moved to Ireland, so she spoke in British dialect with hardly any Irish accent. Kayden Mae’s father had a much more pronounced accent, but as she spent more time with her mother, she was almost a blend between the two. Generally, her dialect was more British than Irish.
As she gathered her book and resettled it with her pens in her arms, Kayden Mae headed towards the bookshelves she had decided on, only to see a boy who looked her age with dark, fluffy hair. She wedged herself past him with a mumbled ‘Sorry!’ and then glanced over her shoulder to look at him again. Her eyes caught on the dark green cover of the book with its pale golden lettering, and, hardly meaning to, she read the title. English Linguistics: Learning the Lingo. She frowned a little, curiosity making her lean in to look at the boy again. She vaguely remembered him sitting at the Gryffindor table several seats down and on the opposite side - her observant eyes collected every face, even if she was horrendous at names.
“Hi, I - sorry, I didn’t mean to pry by looking at your book but - those colors are pretty together, aren’t they? I love green and gold. There’s a dragon with coloring like that, but I can’t remember what it’s called. I just couldn’t not look at the book, you know? I’m - I’m Kayden Mae.” She juggled her books into the other arm and extended her hand, smiling brightly. “I was just wondering what you were doing with that book. It looks interesting.” She paused, briefly, then rushed on. “Sorry, again, I just uh - did you want help? I know I learn better from others than from a book. They’re so boring sometimes, right? Like, who took the time to sit down and write an entire book? That sounds exhausting. And then who’s going to take the time to read it? Who has the time for that? Of course, that’s just me. I’ve been told I have an issue with not focusing. On anything, really. I don’t know if you noticed.” She flashed a half-embarrassed smile. It was true, without a doubt, and she knew she had tendency to jump from topic to topic. Kayden Mae had boundless energy, which could be great at some times and awful at others. It was the reason she was behind in most of her classes, and in all honesty frustrated her as much as her teachers. “What I’m trying to say is that if you need help I’m here!”
𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒'𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝.
sta: 8 / eva: 6 / str: 5 / wis: 5 / arc: 5 / acc: 6
STA: 8 / EVA: 6 / STR: 5 / WIS: 5 / ARC: 5 / ACC: 6
STA: 8 / EVA: 7 / STR: 5 / WIS: 5 / ARC: 5 / ACC: 6
Learning the Lingo
@Kayden Mae Killian
[font=Segoe Print]Rafael’s eyes flitted across the cover of the book in an almost affectionate way, his gaze tracing the green leather binding, the golden embroidery, neat and polished letters. The small book looked pristine, almost untouched, as if no one else in the school had ever required the use of it before. The recognition of this fact brought another thought into question – what if he were to be seen with the book? What would people think of him? He couldn’t even begin to fathom the embarrassment in explaining to someone his intentions with such a read. It would be humiliating – the very thought brought a splash of color to his cheeks, subtle yet bright. In the midst of his inward turmoil, he hadn’t at all registered the slight brush on his back, the result of a girl trying to squeeze past him and farther into the bookshelves. Though, his loss of attention would surely kick him in the ass, as he soon heard the sweet voice of an unfamiliar girl.
“Hi, I - sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.."
Rafael's face drained of all color at the sound the girl’s cool tones, feminine and Scottish. The voice was seemingly coming from right behind him, causing the hair on his neck to stand up on end as he was left to wonder who exactly was behind him. Turning around in a jerking way, he shoved the book behind his back in one fluid, natural motion, his eyes scanning the new face in the hopes of finding some recognition – deep blue eyes, freckles, long brown hair. The face was vaguely familiar, most likely belonging to someone he’d passed in the halls. "Just couldn’t not look at the book, you know?” the girl said. “I’m – I’m Kayden Mae.”
Before Rafael could stop himself, the words escaped from his lips. "Yeah, that's nice," he commented a bit harshly, an unhealthy dose of sarcasm laced in his voice. For a moment, he tried to convince himself that she had not, in fact seen anything – perhaps she’d only seen a glimpse of the cover, a fleeting image –
But, no, it seemed the universe had chosen today, of all days, to throw a wrench into his plans. A moment later, she was going in a nice, kindly voice, questioning him on what he was reading. Her words definitely sent a wave of irritability over his being – why was it any of her business? His face, once pale in embarrassment, was now flushing a tomato red, a dangerous color on him. [It was hard to tell if the color was the cause of embarrassment or anger. Perhaps a mix of both?] "I don't need your bloody help," he snarled, his voice laden with venom. It was time for him to make his exit, leave before his ego could take another bruising. He’d graced this girl’s presence for far too long. Perhaps, if he left, she’d forget all about everything, and go on with her merry life –
Though, on second thought… The boy bit his lip in thought for a moment, a new train of thought starting in his head. Her accent certainly did sound foreign, if he could tell anything. If she were educated enough in teaching, then… what if he were to listen to her? In a way, he could relate to her words – reading certainly wasn’t his strong suit, as most of his grades clearly showed. The art, honestly, quite tiresome, being long and winding and pointless. Plus, the book had been completely written in English, a language that was still somewhat foreign to the young boy. Perhaps her offer will prove beneficial, he reasoned. And, chances are, I can give her a good talking to. Keep her trap shut, and all.
He decided to entertain himself with the idea for a moment, turning to the girl once more. "Say I did need help," he mused aloud, a question with a slightly sharp edge to it. "What would you be able to teach me, now?" [/font]
[font=Segoe Print]Rafael’s eyes flitted across the cover of the book in an almost affectionate way, his gaze tracing the green leather binding, the golden embroidery, neat and polished letters. The small book looked pristine, almost untouched, as if no one else in the school had ever required the use of it before. The recognition of this fact brought another thought into question – what if he were to be seen with the book? What would people think of him? He couldn’t even begin to fathom the embarrassment in explaining to someone his intentions with such a read. It would be humiliating – the very thought brought a splash of color to his cheeks, subtle yet bright. In the midst of his inward turmoil, he hadn’t at all registered the slight brush on his back, the result of a girl trying to squeeze past him and farther into the bookshelves. Though, his loss of attention would surely kick him in the ass, as he soon heard the sweet voice of an unfamiliar girl.
“Hi, I - sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.."
Rafael's face drained of all color at the sound the girl’s cool tones, feminine and Scottish. The voice was seemingly coming from right behind him, causing the hair on his neck to stand up on end as he was left to wonder who exactly was behind him. Turning around in a jerking way, he shoved the book behind his back in one fluid, natural motion, his eyes scanning the new face in the hopes of finding some recognition – deep blue eyes, freckles, long brown hair. The face was vaguely familiar, most likely belonging to someone he’d passed in the halls. "Just couldn’t not look at the book, you know?” the girl said. “I’m – I’m Kayden Mae.”
Before Rafael could stop himself, the words escaped from his lips. "Yeah, that's nice," he commented a bit harshly, an unhealthy dose of sarcasm laced in his voice. For a moment, he tried to convince himself that she had not, in fact seen anything – perhaps she’d only seen a glimpse of the cover, a fleeting image –
But, no, it seemed the universe had chosen today, of all days, to throw a wrench into his plans. A moment later, she was going in a nice, kindly voice, questioning him on what he was reading. Her words definitely sent a wave of irritability over his being – why was it any of her business? His face, once pale in embarrassment, was now flushing a tomato red, a dangerous color on him. [It was hard to tell if the color was the cause of embarrassment or anger. Perhaps a mix of both?] "I don't need your bloody help," he snarled, his voice laden with venom. It was time for him to make his exit, leave before his ego could take another bruising. He’d graced this girl’s presence for far too long. Perhaps, if he left, she’d forget all about everything, and go on with her merry life –
Though, on second thought… The boy bit his lip in thought for a moment, a new train of thought starting in his head. Her accent certainly did sound foreign, if he could tell anything. If she were educated enough in teaching, then… what if he were to listen to her? In a way, he could relate to her words – reading certainly wasn’t his strong suit, as most of his grades clearly showed. The art, honestly, quite tiresome, being long and winding and pointless. Plus, the book had been completely written in English, a language that was still somewhat foreign to the young boy. Perhaps her offer will prove beneficial, he reasoned. And, chances are, I can give her a good talking to. Keep her trap shut, and all.
He decided to entertain himself with the idea for a moment, turning to the girl once more. "Say I did need help," he mused aloud, a question with a slightly sharp edge to it. "What would you be able to teach me, now?" [/font]
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.
Learning the Lingo
Kayden Mae had startled a little at his initial words before barreling on, but at his next ones, spoken only after she had finished, she frowned, her eyes furrowing and lips’ corners pulling down. “Wow, okay. What did I do to you? Kind words too much for you?” she clipped back, huffing at the end of her sentence. She let her arms fall to her side, pen and book held loosely in one hand, and scowled again before starting to turn around, ready to leave.
‘Honestly! Some people, Merlin. I was just trying to be nice,’ she thought, glancing over her shoulder to scowl at him just to see the boy looking thoughtful. It was just a moment later he spoke, words a little sharp.
She crossed her arms, considering him. “‘Say I did?’ I’m guessing that means you do, and this is your way of asking for it. So politely, too. I mean, really? That was not nice.” She stared at him for another moment, taking in his bright red cheeks, shifting her hold on her supplies when they nearly slipped from her hand, and then sighed, rolling her eyes with a shake of her head. “Lucky for you, I guess, I love helping people. Even those who haven’t been all that kind to me.” She punctuated this with a glare. “I could help now, if that’s what you want. Didn’t seem like you really wanted it, though, given how sarcastic you were just now. But, I mean, I’ve gotten all that I can get done for now on my homework.” There went her plans for drawing. “What exactly are you trying to learn anyway? How to speak English? I mean, you seem to be doing just fine.”
Her tone had already gone from offended and a little angry to bright, a sure sign that she had already forgiven and forgotten. She tended not to hold grudges for long over something like this - other, larger offenses, sure, but not this. It was a habit instilled in her from many years of quarreling with her mother, who usually steamed for an hour or so and then moved on. This combined with her way of losing focus quickly and easily, and, honestly, her big heart, meant that most of the time she moved on quickly.
“Well, I guess you are trying to learn. Why else would you have that book? So, why? I’m assuming not just for fun.”
‘Honestly! Some people, Merlin. I was just trying to be nice,’ she thought, glancing over her shoulder to scowl at him just to see the boy looking thoughtful. It was just a moment later he spoke, words a little sharp.
She crossed her arms, considering him. “‘Say I did?’ I’m guessing that means you do, and this is your way of asking for it. So politely, too. I mean, really? That was not nice.” She stared at him for another moment, taking in his bright red cheeks, shifting her hold on her supplies when they nearly slipped from her hand, and then sighed, rolling her eyes with a shake of her head. “Lucky for you, I guess, I love helping people. Even those who haven’t been all that kind to me.” She punctuated this with a glare. “I could help now, if that’s what you want. Didn’t seem like you really wanted it, though, given how sarcastic you were just now. But, I mean, I’ve gotten all that I can get done for now on my homework.” There went her plans for drawing. “What exactly are you trying to learn anyway? How to speak English? I mean, you seem to be doing just fine.”
Her tone had already gone from offended and a little angry to bright, a sure sign that she had already forgiven and forgotten. She tended not to hold grudges for long over something like this - other, larger offenses, sure, but not this. It was a habit instilled in her from many years of quarreling with her mother, who usually steamed for an hour or so and then moved on. This combined with her way of losing focus quickly and easily, and, honestly, her big heart, meant that most of the time she moved on quickly.
“Well, I guess you are trying to learn. Why else would you have that book? So, why? I’m assuming not just for fun.”
𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒'𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝.
sta: 8 / eva: 6 / str: 5 / wis: 5 / arc: 5 / acc: 6
STA: 8 / EVA: 6 / STR: 5 / WIS: 5 / ARC: 5 / ACC: 6
STA: 8 / EVA: 7 / STR: 5 / WIS: 5 / ARC: 5 / ACC: 6
Learning the Lingo
@Kayden Mae Killian
[font=Segoe Print]Perhaps Rafael had made the wrong move with his tone.
The girl, he was learning with growing horror, did not seem in the mood to put up with his antics. Not today, in the least – in fact, much to the boy’s surprise, she’d reacted quite explosively towards his words, her once kindly nature turning to the ferocity of a true woman in the blink of an eye. Rafael couldn’t lie – she had taken him by stark surprise. “Wow, okay,” she had started, her once cordial voice now heavy with the tones of anger. “What did I do to you? Kind words too much for you?”
Normally, on typical day, he would have considered his words a bit more carefully. Though, today was a different sort of day, wasn’t it? “Kind words?” he spat back, his gaze becoming ever-harsher. “Not at all. Nosiness, on the other hand? I quite mind that.” His voice was low, the tone quivering. But not out of fear. No, there was something about the girl’s own anger that spurred on his own, the fire inside him burning brighter than in had been moments before. No one spoke to him that way. No one.
Though, the proverbial warning-shot certainly wasn’t enough for the girl. No, she had to take another hit at his already delicate patience, grating on his senses like nails on a chalkboard. “‘Say I did?’” she said, a hint of sharp sarcasm in her voice. “I’m guessing that means you do, and this is your way of asking for it. So politely, too. I mean, really? That was not nice.”
Wow, she was really digging the knife in, wasn’t she? The Captain’s eyes narrowed – no, that wouldn’t do at all. Especially when she was garnering the amount of attention she was. It seemed as if her voice were carrying over the library, loudly enough that the unlikely pair were beginning to draw eyes. The redness on the Gryffindor’s face grew ever move vibrant, his glare enough to wither a small plant.
“I could help now, if that’s what you want. Didn’t seem like you really wanted it, though, given how sarcastic you were just now. But, I mean, I’ve gotten all that I can get done for now on my homework. What exactly are you trying to learn anyway? How to speak English? I mean, you seem to be doing just fine.”
At the very thought of someone else finding out his secret, he visibly paled, any enmity he had for the girl slowly leaking out of his demeanor, replaced with a healthy fear. No, his secret would stay far away from the ears of the eager listener, lest his reputation be soiled by this girl’s careless tone. Before he could process his actions, think about what he was doing, what he was saying, the words slipped out of his mouth. “Yes – I’ll take your bloody help,” he whispered hurriedly, his eyes darting around suspiciously. “Quiet down, will you? I’ll – I’ll explain.” He enunciated the last word a bit softer, his voice cracking in the slightest. Though, it was easy to tell he was far, far from crying.
[No, this sudden and unexplained voice crack had everything to do with his fear and protectiveness of his already waning reputation. The whole situation, he found rather embarrassing, an endeavor he wished would be over sooner rather than later. Part of him knew he would be regretting his actions later, as there was no telling how loose the girl’s lips were. Though, he supposed it was a better gamble, than allowing everyone in the room to hear his secrets as well.]
[Universe: 7 – Rafael: 0. Figures.]
He felt like he needed to say more, show her he was serious. “I’m sorry, yeah?” he added, a nice cherry on top of the proverbial cake. Though, he couldn’t help but notice, there was an edge to his tone, the sort that suggested the fact that he wasn’t being fully honest. “Just – you can’t tell, yeah? It’s a bit of a secret.” [/font]
[font=Segoe Print]Perhaps Rafael had made the wrong move with his tone.
The girl, he was learning with growing horror, did not seem in the mood to put up with his antics. Not today, in the least – in fact, much to the boy’s surprise, she’d reacted quite explosively towards his words, her once kindly nature turning to the ferocity of a true woman in the blink of an eye. Rafael couldn’t lie – she had taken him by stark surprise. “Wow, okay,” she had started, her once cordial voice now heavy with the tones of anger. “What did I do to you? Kind words too much for you?”
Normally, on typical day, he would have considered his words a bit more carefully. Though, today was a different sort of day, wasn’t it? “Kind words?” he spat back, his gaze becoming ever-harsher. “Not at all. Nosiness, on the other hand? I quite mind that.” His voice was low, the tone quivering. But not out of fear. No, there was something about the girl’s own anger that spurred on his own, the fire inside him burning brighter than in had been moments before. No one spoke to him that way. No one.
Though, the proverbial warning-shot certainly wasn’t enough for the girl. No, she had to take another hit at his already delicate patience, grating on his senses like nails on a chalkboard. “‘Say I did?’” she said, a hint of sharp sarcasm in her voice. “I’m guessing that means you do, and this is your way of asking for it. So politely, too. I mean, really? That was not nice.”
Wow, she was really digging the knife in, wasn’t she? The Captain’s eyes narrowed – no, that wouldn’t do at all. Especially when she was garnering the amount of attention she was. It seemed as if her voice were carrying over the library, loudly enough that the unlikely pair were beginning to draw eyes. The redness on the Gryffindor’s face grew ever move vibrant, his glare enough to wither a small plant.
“I could help now, if that’s what you want. Didn’t seem like you really wanted it, though, given how sarcastic you were just now. But, I mean, I’ve gotten all that I can get done for now on my homework. What exactly are you trying to learn anyway? How to speak English? I mean, you seem to be doing just fine.”
At the very thought of someone else finding out his secret, he visibly paled, any enmity he had for the girl slowly leaking out of his demeanor, replaced with a healthy fear. No, his secret would stay far away from the ears of the eager listener, lest his reputation be soiled by this girl’s careless tone. Before he could process his actions, think about what he was doing, what he was saying, the words slipped out of his mouth. “Yes – I’ll take your bloody help,” he whispered hurriedly, his eyes darting around suspiciously. “Quiet down, will you? I’ll – I’ll explain.” He enunciated the last word a bit softer, his voice cracking in the slightest. Though, it was easy to tell he was far, far from crying.
[No, this sudden and unexplained voice crack had everything to do with his fear and protectiveness of his already waning reputation. The whole situation, he found rather embarrassing, an endeavor he wished would be over sooner rather than later. Part of him knew he would be regretting his actions later, as there was no telling how loose the girl’s lips were. Though, he supposed it was a better gamble, than allowing everyone in the room to hear his secrets as well.]
[Universe: 7 – Rafael: 0. Figures.]
He felt like he needed to say more, show her he was serious. “I’m sorry, yeah?” he added, a nice cherry on top of the proverbial cake. Though, he couldn’t help but notice, there was an edge to his tone, the sort that suggested the fact that he wasn’t being fully honest. “Just – you can’t tell, yeah? It’s a bit of a secret.” [/font]
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.
Learning the Lingo
With a flinch, Kayden Mae's dark blue eyes flicked down at his harsh words - 'Nosiness, on the other hand?' - training on the journal cradled to her chest. When she glanced up again, it was with a half-hearted glare, but she met his own glare head on, lips tightening at the corners. And then, with a deep breath, she continued, offering her help: I’m guessing that means you do - didn’t seem like you really wanted it - you seem to be doing just fine. His words may have struck a particular chord in her, but this (and she remembered it with a slight jolt) this was Gryffindor’s current Quidditch captain, the boy she had watched lead her house’s team in the game she loved so much. She wanted to be on that team one day, more than any small insult may sting, and considering they both played as Chasers, it was all the more imperative that they be able to work together. Maybe helping with this could give her a chance to make connections even before the practices and games began.
When the boy across her quickly lost the bright red color that had been building steadily, she narrowed her eyes, head listing to the left. For whatever reason - and there were none she could think of, but then again, she'd never been in the position he was in - he had gone from angry and defensive to ... afraid, maybe?
Kayden Mae had to admit she couldn’t understand what was threatening to him. It wasn’t quite her; she knew that she was a pretty unassuming girl, and, usually, didn’t give off the air of anyone who could be a danger. Quite the opposite really. Still, when he dropped to a whisper, speaking frantically and brown eyes darting from side to side, she noticed immediately, and something clicked. He was worried about his reputation. It made sense, especially as he demanded for her to lower her volume. She hadn’t been overly loud, but if he was worried about asking for help, he could simply be paranoid. And although she hadn’t noticed it before she thought about it, she could hear what she thought might’ve been him restraining an accent. She wasn’t an expert, but there was something maybe just a little off about the inflection of his voice and the way he enunciated. Even barring this, the sudden change of tone, the eyes flickering from one side to another like a caged animal, the (slightly less than genuine) apology - it could all point to being on guard lest his reputation be jeopardized. If nothing else, Kayden Mae was observant and adept at putting clues together to decipher peoples' moods. Of course, the closer she was to someone, the better she was - she could read each of her family's faces as easily as the title of the book in the boy's hands. Reversely, if speaking to someone she had just met, it was entirely possible she was drawing connections where there were none.
Regardless of the reason, she at the very least knew something was wrong. With another deep breath - the kind that calmed her mind, just a little - she lowered her pitch and volume, tone somewhere bordering soft. "Okay, okay. I'll quiet down. There's no one here but some Ravenclaws and a Slytherin, anyway, over in that corner. Everyone's outside, playing in the snow." She gestured outside, where, sure enough, a group of nine or so students were laughing, snow flying through the air both by hand and spell. She waved a hand, not quite dismissing his apology but something near it. "And you're already forgiven. C'mon, do you want to take a seat?" She grabbed his elbow loosely, tugging once to guide him towards the seat she had planned on drawing in. Without bothering to check he was following, she let go again and levered herself to sit in the windowsill, setting her things on the floor and pulling her knees up to rest her feet flat on the side of the nook she wasn't leaning on. Kayden Mae looked up again, eyes serious. "I won't tell anyone. Promise."@Rafael D’Spacito
𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒'𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝.
sta: 8 / eva: 6 / str: 5 / wis: 5 / arc: 5 / acc: 6
STA: 8 / EVA: 6 / STR: 5 / WIS: 5 / ARC: 5 / ACC: 6
STA: 8 / EVA: 7 / STR: 5 / WIS: 5 / ARC: 5 / ACC: 6
Learning the Lingo
@Kayden Mae Killian
[font=Segoe Print]The mysterious girl’s words, though meant to be a solace to the shaken boy’s senses, did nothing to satiate the pooling of dread in the young Captain’s gut as his face only paled further, his hands, well-hidden amongst the confines of his pockets, clenched with knuckles white. It only took one person to spread a secret – who was he, to trust the acquaintance of some girl he’d only just met? It was slightly enraging, he noticed with only growing irritation, the first-years calmness to the situation. As if she could empathize to what he was feeling, the fear of a reputation slowly chipping away due to his sore lack of secrecy. He’d been raised among the proverbial wolves, goddammit, he should have known better than to hold that book out in the open! And he certainly knew better than to put his faith in a stranger. No, that was simply not going to do.
However, with only growing discomfort, he realized that he truly didn’t have a say in the turn of events. No, that cruise ship had sorely sailed, leaving the child marooned on an island ridden with compromising answers and secret-sharing. Karma was a real bitch, as it seemed – he was feeling the weight of its wrath more and more as the moments wore on, his face only continuing to pale at the weakness that invaded his limbs, his throat dry and achy. He was utterly trapped in circumstance, and there was nothing he could do to liberate himself.
"And you're already forgiven. C'mon, do you want to take a seat?"
Begrudgingly, the young Gryffindor accepted her invitation, sliding into a seat nearby. His handsome features sour, he proceeded to bite his lip, pondering for the right words to say. What was he to tell her? The painful truth? No, he decided – she was a flight risk, a wild card, in which the boy had no desire to test his chances with. Though, he was far from a liar. The next best option, he supposed, would be to offer a half-truth – she didn’t have to know the whole story. Only the raw facts. Yes, that would be the path to travel down, as he sure as hell didn’t want to hear someone up his ass for an issue that shouldn’t have been made public in the first place.
“I’m trying to learn a foreign accent,” he muttered, just loud enough for the girl to hear. “Something local – you know, British, Irish, the likes. Can’t tell you why, though, so don’t ask.” His eyes flashed dangerously at that notion, before meeting his grass-stained sneakers lamely. “Call it an extracurricular – my own voice is too distinguished for what I’m looking into. Can’t have people reading into such things.” And, there it was. He’d said far too much.
It was then that he realized how pathetic he must have sounded – his face, once pale with fear, had now warped into a beet-red color as his gaze only intensifying upon his shoes as he reveled in the distaste of his own words. “Don’t laugh,” he growled defensively. If she laughed, he didn’t know what he would do. Probably die of embarrassing. [/font]
[font=Segoe Print]The mysterious girl’s words, though meant to be a solace to the shaken boy’s senses, did nothing to satiate the pooling of dread in the young Captain’s gut as his face only paled further, his hands, well-hidden amongst the confines of his pockets, clenched with knuckles white. It only took one person to spread a secret – who was he, to trust the acquaintance of some girl he’d only just met? It was slightly enraging, he noticed with only growing irritation, the first-years calmness to the situation. As if she could empathize to what he was feeling, the fear of a reputation slowly chipping away due to his sore lack of secrecy. He’d been raised among the proverbial wolves, goddammit, he should have known better than to hold that book out in the open! And he certainly knew better than to put his faith in a stranger. No, that was simply not going to do.
However, with only growing discomfort, he realized that he truly didn’t have a say in the turn of events. No, that cruise ship had sorely sailed, leaving the child marooned on an island ridden with compromising answers and secret-sharing. Karma was a real bitch, as it seemed – he was feeling the weight of its wrath more and more as the moments wore on, his face only continuing to pale at the weakness that invaded his limbs, his throat dry and achy. He was utterly trapped in circumstance, and there was nothing he could do to liberate himself.
"And you're already forgiven. C'mon, do you want to take a seat?"
Begrudgingly, the young Gryffindor accepted her invitation, sliding into a seat nearby. His handsome features sour, he proceeded to bite his lip, pondering for the right words to say. What was he to tell her? The painful truth? No, he decided – she was a flight risk, a wild card, in which the boy had no desire to test his chances with. Though, he was far from a liar. The next best option, he supposed, would be to offer a half-truth – she didn’t have to know the whole story. Only the raw facts. Yes, that would be the path to travel down, as he sure as hell didn’t want to hear someone up his ass for an issue that shouldn’t have been made public in the first place.
“I’m trying to learn a foreign accent,” he muttered, just loud enough for the girl to hear. “Something local – you know, British, Irish, the likes. Can’t tell you why, though, so don’t ask.” His eyes flashed dangerously at that notion, before meeting his grass-stained sneakers lamely. “Call it an extracurricular – my own voice is too distinguished for what I’m looking into. Can’t have people reading into such things.” And, there it was. He’d said far too much.
It was then that he realized how pathetic he must have sounded – his face, once pale with fear, had now warped into a beet-red color as his gaze only intensifying upon his shoes as he reveled in the distaste of his own words. “Don’t laugh,” he growled defensively. If she laughed, he didn’t know what he would do. Probably die of embarrassing. [/font]
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.