Sticks and Stones || Reserved for Ryan

[engima2]

"No one ever said life would be easy..."



Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The seconds seemed to last quite a bit longer than she would have hoped for. She sucked at the tip of her fashionable quill, then removed it from her full, yet curved lips. It was a bad habit picked up long ago, seen by muggles. It was always in use when she was in heavy thought, or was scrounging very carefully at the edges of amusement. A dark grey owl hooted, followed by the audible screeching and hooting of several others. She hadn’t known quite yet why she had picked this very location, but it was calmer than the havoc of the common room. And though the smell wasn’t the greatest, owls couldn’t talk. They couldn’t sneak and they wouldn’t see the horrid words being written on the brisk piece of parchment. It wasn’t necessarily going to be used for a publication in the Hogwarts’ local paper, but more a ranting of her own thoughts. Antagonizing the innocent and degrading the flawless. It was a dangerous hobby she had grown to love with the passion of her ice cold heart.

She grunted angrily as streaks of blonde hair kept falling where she was trying to work. She snapped her fingers and spoke an incantation, and a hair garnet came to her open palm. She had a knack for charms, and she really didn’t appreciate her skills as much as she should. Often taken for granted, but that was the daring life she was leading. On one hell of a crooked track, but living each moment like she was dying. That couldn’t be said for the conservative souls that normally fell victim to her scopes, as they planned for a fulfilling future. Hers was plotted here and there by grey spots, future unknown. She tied the ribbon at the end, putting her hair in a messy, but trendy pony-tail. Her vivid blue eyes scanned the parchment again, but found she was losing interest.

She looked up and around to see if Mahito, her speckled owl was in the Owlery. She didn’t spot her expensive looking, but cheap in price, bird. She shook her head as he was probably carrying a letter from her mother saying that she had cheated on her father again and that he was in trouble with the Ministry. Some would think her cruelty is just from karma being an ass, but most was derived from a family life rocky and brittle. The foundation crumbling commonly. None knew this, and they never would. Finding the mistakes in others was far easier than taking blame in her own.

She removed her agile frame from the seat and stretched while allowing a yawn to escape her sharp face. She blocked the warm breathe with her hand, then looked around. She said another spell with her easy vocals, and the journal in which she was writing, was removed. She knew exactly where it would go, and that was her own little secret. One that held Pandora’s box of the most brutal and truthful convictions see to wizards. She then leaned her frame over the window. The air was becoming colder, as fall was rolling out and winter in. Being so small, she often had layers of clothes to keep her body temperature normal. Homeostasis was far harder to imagine for her than others. But she was just as quick to ridicule a younger huffle for wearing a large coat, while she bundled herself in layers of sweaters.

Life wasn’t fair. Best be getting tough or others will roll right over you.

[ryan]

Ryan was coming to the Owlery for the reason most people came to the Owlery.
He was going to send a letter to his parents.

In all honesty, Ryan didn't think his mother had forgiven him yet for his results in his O.W.L exam. He hadn't seen daylight for weeks at home, and he had missed the annual football tournament against St. Geogre Rd (all the kids from the other street in his village). And his team has gone and lost - it was hard to win without your best striker in the game - for the first time in three years. Three years! Well, it was obvious to all that Ryan wasn't the most academic person out there - and compared to his older brothers he was like some sort of sloth in the brain. But he was the gentlest, kindest and most caring one in the family (including his sister and mother). That wasn't to say that he was always smelling the roses and sitting back while his brothers were tackling and pranking each other - actually he was usually the center of those types of boyish pleasures - but he just had the most caring - and even a more feminine - nature than the rest of his family. But it was his father that was the most intelligent when it came to troubles with the opposite gender, even if it had nothing to do with love life. Ryans mother was a force to be reckoned with, and Ryan never got it right around her. It was his dad's idea to send regular updates of Ryan's grades and homework marks, along with a small note on how his life in Hogwarts was going, twice a week to his mother. He didn't usually come on this day, but he had forgotten to send it yesterday so he had come now - an extra note on the end of the letter apologizing for the lateness with a lie about a homework assignment taking up all of his time. The truth was that he mainly lied in the letter - about everything, not just the grades. This one said that he had gotten full marks on the last homework assignment he did (he got an decent pass, but no were near full marks) and that he had had a fun time in Hogsmeade (he hadn't been out of the school grounds since his last letter was sent four days ago). Oh well.

Right now he was walking along the cold school grounds, the small piece of wrinkled parchment in his hand and a tiny cat following him at a running pace a few steps behind. Pop Socks, named affectionatly for the little white pop socks looking markings he had on his front two paws by Ryans little sister, was trying her very best to annoy Ryan this week; she just wasn't leaving him alone. "Pop Socks!" There was annoyance in his voice and in his swift movements as he turned around looked down in response to the miniature cat attacking his feet, Poppy narrowly missing being stood on. She looked up at him, a innocent tone to her body language, and Ryan instantly softened his own body language. He knew she wasn't going anywhere, but also that it wouldn't be a good idea to bring her into the Owlery - not that she would attack anything, more that the owls might attack the kitten sized cat. And Ryan really did love the bloody thing to much to allow that to happen. But for the moment she would be fine to jump onto his shoulder. He lent down and picked the black and white furball up, her meowing as he raised her off the damp grass, and placed her on his shoulder. She purred loudly in his ear, but it only made Ryan smile the big soft smile he looked so good in.

He reached the wooden steps of the Owlery, the cat on his shoulder, and opened the letter once again, re-reading it for the tenth time to make sure it sounded believable and there were no spelling mistakes. OK, he thought, good enough. He sighed and made his way up the steps, cat still on his shoulder - but not forgotten (it was too hard to do that with the constant purring in his ear). Upon reaching the door to the wooden hut Ryan picked up his cat with the hand holding the parchment - easy due to the size of the cat - and pushed the door open with the other. At first he only focused on the smell from the droppings and the sound of the birds hooting and screeching, wings rustling with annoyance at being disturbed by him. Then he noticed the girl, Rita Skeeter to be exact, sitting in the hut. He was unsure at whether to turn around and walk out; Rita wasn't a person he really liked to hang around due to her dubious reputation, or to just smile, go to the nearest owl and leave as quickly as possible. He opted for the latter, his thoughts being made quickly due to the struggling cat in his arm. He placed Poppy down and pushed her in the direction of the stairs, away from the beaks of the owls. He watched her take the hint and slowly hop down the stairs before he walked into the messy and smelly hut. As he looked over to Rita, giving her a soft smile, he realized she was without a parchment to send or even one to write. A look of curiosity flashed across his face for a second before it returned to his impassive smile. Ryan wasn't one to be rude, and as he knew Rita relatively well - being in the same house and year - he wasn't one to just ignore her. So as he found the nice looking barn owl (brown with a nice looking creamy face) which he often used to send letters to his mother, he turned her way "Heya Rita - what'ch up to?" a slight bit of tension in his voice; he wasn't really in a great relationship with her and he was slightly withdrawn from her because he didn't want to be used in one of her rumors. That wouldn't be a good idea.

OOC -- omg, I have never written more that a 1000 words before!!

[engima2]

Come just a little closer...



She was quite lost in herself not sure whether to continue looking for her mia owl, or turn around and head back into the dorms for another round of sheer amusement. The decision was so easy, but she just couldn’t pry herself from the comfort of looking over the balcony; she was dominant there. Everything was at her feet, but she wouldn’t be so vain and ignorant to think, ‘as it should be.’ She knew far better, and wouldn’t allow herself to sink to the disgrace that so many others brought themselves to. Now this was a characteristic that many overlooked, while they simply wrote her off as a deviant and antagonizing bitch. She wouldn’t deny those names, but partly sided with her defense. She picked her battles carefully. She never aggressed in something she couldn’t win with flying colors. And if hitting below the belt was what it took to win, then so be it. Don’t be so jealous that she can remove herself of morals so quickly, whilst you’re still debating whether to call her a name back. Grow up child, she’s a mean machine.

After racking her brains for some time, she decided to stay until noon so that she wouldn’t have to miss charms, such a specialty for her. Some despised it’s simplicity weaved in the fabrics of usefulness. There loss. With her hair back in a sporty ponytail, the back of her neck was exposed to the coming cold. She shivered, and only wrapped the dark blue hoodie tighter around her frail body. As she breathed in the sharp waves of cold air, she hear a stir coming up the steps to the owlery. For a minute she thought maybe just the keeper coming to clean out the place, since it was a little trashy. But her thoughts were halted, as a familiar person came through the very doors she was watching with her hawk eyes.

Ryan, yes she knew this boy very well. Enough that just the sight of him brought a wave of mixed emotions. She envied whoever looked at him the way she did. She was truly a wreck when it came to relationships. Seriously, how can the notorious backstabber ever have true feelings for someone? Wasn’t she supposed to be some rigid frame, protected from the world? Isn’t that how everyone portrayed her as? Wrong. All wrong. She had to turn away, as he came in. She pretended not to pay much attention to him as she took a deep breathe. The butterflies in her stomach were racking her sides mercilessly. Why was she so nervous around him? Despite the fact he was abnormally attractive; he didn’t want to talk to her. He didn’t want her. Dangerous.

She could sense with that imaginary eye on the back of her head, that he was looking in her direction. Idea confirmed when he spoke to her in his timid voice. "Heya Rita - what'ch up to?" She wanted to snort in disgust at his meek words. She wasn’t the devil, god damn. See, again point proven, she was very unstable when it came to relationships. She didn’t know whether to tell him off or reply. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Aggravated at only the second she had to think on her speech, she turned around as casually as she could. Her razor eyes hit his, and never dropped, playing a game of mercy and in the guilt hopes his eyes would fall to the ground first. ”Eh Ryan, just waiting for my owl. You?” In half she was being honest, but quickly directed the question his way. And easy trick she picked up from her father.



OOC; Yay! I'm happy for you! lol

[ryan]

He hadn't been looking at her. Making eye contact with someone who went around sharing others painful secrets for fun was the type of person who, quite frankly, scared him. Yes, Ryan was a bit of a coward sometimes.. Even if he didn't like to admit it (well, who did?). He took out the crumpled up letter, with his messy hand writing all over it - a few ink blots in random places - and looked at it for a moment. He could hardly send it to his mother it that type of state... that wouldn't have her happy - and she got cross at the smallest things with him lately. She he wasn't going to risk it, especially as she had a new found hobby of sending howlers to him and his brothers for really stupid things recently. Matt got one last week for miss spelling a word in his last letter, and Ryan really didn't want that humiliation. It was an easy fix, anyway. Bringing out his wand, he tapped the parchment. Charms being his best subject, he had flown through the new silent spells lessons, getting it in just one short week. He smiled momentarily as he watched the parchment stretch and the creases smooth out. He tapped it again (thinking Scourgify, with the wand pointing at the largest of the ink blots), a slight look of concentration on his face. He had tried Scourgify on his parchment before and ended up removing almost a foots worth of work.. but the ink blot vanished and the letter remained. Ryan smiled again and then tied it to the owl in front of him, who had obediently stretched out it leg. Ryan gave it a quick stroke with his thumb before the tawny owl hooted softly and took of through the tower window. Ryan had all but forgotten about his tiny cat (which should have had its way back inside the castle by now) as he turned back to Rita.

As he came to face her the girls eyes met him, and locked on hard. She hadn't answered yet, and she was staring straight into his eyes. He suddenly felt guilty about avoiding her, and as she probably knew he would, Ryan dropped his eyes, and dipped his head slightly as well, looking at the messy wooden owl dropping covered floor. He didn't raise them again, until she spoke, at which he raised his head and looked in her general direction, not straight into her eyes as she had done to him. Like previously stated, Ryan could be quite the coward. ”Eh Ryan, just waiting for my owl. You?”. He leaned back on the dirty owl perch, though careful not to let his hands rest on anything what looked even remotely fresh. His shoulders were still slightly raised, a sub-conscious body pose that he didn't even know he was making, showing that he was still slightly tense. He wasn't sure what he hand been expecting her to say - for all his hatred for gossip and rumors he seemed to believe them to readily - maybe something harsh, trying to get him to own up to some deep secret that he had kept hidden for all these years (like the time he ate the grapes in the supermarket before his mother had paid, or when he hid his brothers wand back when he was only nine...). Though what he would say was unknown even to him. He didn't had secrets - nothing worth keeping secret had really happened in his life.

This though comforted him a little, and he relaxed a bit more against the ledge, his elbows behind him, palms on the wood, his back just touching the edge of the wood. He crossed his legs, now making the position he was in a balancing act he was sure would leaving him toppling oven onto the bird muck. But it was comfy for now. "Oh," he started to reply, his voice a little stronger - the thought that he didn't have anything for her to exploit helping him along - "Well, I'm just sending the ruddy weekly letter to mum" He said it with a slight exasperation in his voice - almost at the injustice that he would have to get off his lazy ass once a week to actually do something for once. A soft smile broke on his face as he smiled at he own laziness.

[engima2]

Miss Innocent



She watched, very closely when he used an intermediate charm to clean up his messiness. Not a bad charm at that, since she had used far greater ones when she really had herself on a rant. It seemed they shared a common interest for the use of charms; they just made the magical world so much easier. A shame for her, since she passed charms with flying colors, and even kept a good average in the rest - but got a T for Troll when it came to human relations and personal feelings. Sometimes she could be so rigid and negative, without even thinking about her cruelty. Of course, no one ever had the balls to tell her otherwise, save a few, that gave up the pursuit rather quickly. She silently in her tender locked soul, admired Ryan for a brief second for his exceptional skills at charms. She even felt that creeping sensation to tell him a better one for future reference, but the words got stuck in her throat. Since when did she owe him anything?

A youthful smirk crossed her face with an ‘I thought so’ expression written all over her. His eyes dropped quickly to the ground, and she basked in her glory. Some, like Ryan, were easily intimidated at times, while others were a more selective choice. A glimmer in his body stature almost made her feel guilty, but that foreign feeling quickly left her mind. Once more replaced by his pathetic caricature. One so attractive should carry his shoulder high with a sense of pride, not shrink back like a beat puppy. But then she reminded herself, that she did have quite the reputation, and no doubt with Ryan being in the same year and house, he had heard some of the more scandalous ones.

She found herself at a loss with him. He was easy to bend on the surface, but did he really have anything worth digging for? At this point in time, she found it to be more a waste of energy to try and bring out some skeletons, since he was just so jumpy. He reminded her greatly of a paranoid first year around her. Plus, she just didn’t find the humor in it right now. They were on a very tight rope, balancing to salvage the peace and sanity between their ‘relationship’. If they even had one. Rather a nobody than an enemy. It was twice as hard, thinking she had some feelings for someone who swore her off like the Black Death. Danni really didn’t even know Rita had a slight inkling for Ryan. It was one of those things she hated herself for, because she just couldn’t switch it off.

She snatched his words with anxious ears, and processed them to spit back out a reply. ”Really now? What for, might I ask? A bad mark in one of your classes?…Charms perhaps?” She left off with a sharp bit of sarcasm, obviously joking with him. All the same, knowing why would be a nice appetizer for the rest of her day. She watched the smile crawl upon his face, while she held carefully to keep hers the same. Was he mocking her? Maybe just laughing at an inside joke she didn’t understand? Her smile, broke into a more dangerous grin, unsure which direction this little chat would take them.

[ryan]

He shouldn't have spoken. He shouldn't have told her anything about him. It was true that most of the school - at least, anyone who bothered to find out - know that he hadn't gotten the best marks in the year in his O.W.Ls (he could just here his mother now - 'Not the best? Not the best? Did you even try??') but she made him nervous none the less. He picked up the sarcasm in her voice, and he knew that she was more than likely joking with him, but all the same... ”Really now? What for, might I ask? A bad mark in one of your classes?…Charms perhaps?”. Well, he had to reply; he had to put her right. Ryan always did well in Charms. Always It was, after all, the only subject he had gotten an O in. And he planned to do the same in his N.E.W.Ts. He looked across at her - trying to appear unfazed, but Ryan had never been a good actor - and replied, in which he hoped to be an even, uncaring tone, "Umm, no.. Actually my bad marks come from Potions, not Charms" and he added a quick laugh, but it was cut short and his smiled faded quickly under her stare. He shuffled slightly and pushed up on his palms, attempting to remove his relaxed position as he uncrossed his legs and tried to sit on the very ledge which he had just been leaning against. It was a lucky thing he had good balance and co-ordinational skills in place of his non-existent academical skills, otherwise he would just be a lost cause.

Ryan was now sitting on the wooden ledge, swinging his legs slightly, and picking at a lose splinter of wood just next to his knee. He always fiddled when he was unsettled. He watched Rita, properly looking at her for the first time since.. few, ever really. She was a pretty girl, and she even looked slightly fragile. It was a pity she was so vicious. Who was it she hung around with? That Danni Valo girl - she was rather pretty to. Maybe if they just stopped being so.. cruel. He couldn't imagine being able to stay friends with someone who was constantly cruel. He would be terrified of being back stabbed. He was sure that there would be a massive scandal soon, and an even bigger war between the two girls, throwing secrets and starting vicious rumors about each other. That was something that he wouldn't want to get caught up in, and becoming anything more that acquaintances with one of the two could almost guarantee a place in the mess that Ryan was sure to come.

Ryan had gone off into a dreamland, imagining the girls shouting and screaming, and strangely enough, throwing pies at each other. He mind had wandered off into a fight of pies, in which he reined champion of the school, naturally. Just as he was about to obviate the Potions Professor with his mad pie throwing skills he was shook brutally from his dreamworld by a loud hoot from an incoming owl. For a moment he looked slightly shocked at the intrusion into his pie fighting land, before he realized he was actually in the owlery, back in reality. He looked at Rita again, and noted the grin on her face. It wasn't a good feeling that followed in his gut, the grin reminding him of a wild animal about to pounce on an innocent lamb... sort of.

[engima2]

She picked up with ease, his uncomfortable nature. It had long since been a gift to her, that she could sense the tiniest change changes in the face and caricature. Every muscle flex, every smile twinge, every sweat band. It was like her eyes were permanently on hawk mode, scanning and searching for something to dive at. It was actually a shame that this was a programmed nature of hers, but she didn’t know any different. Some say, that when a heroin addict stops cold turkey, then mysteriously dies - it’s not from the withdrawals, it’s from the reality check so monstrous that everything spins out of control. Now Miss Rita, wouldn’t do for this particular case, since her sanity is in close check. She honestly doesn’t even know why it gets her gitty when scrutinizing another. But when the thought comes to mind, she just shrugs it off. She’s not insecure. She’s not perfect. She’s damned vicious and dedicated.

So naturally, she caught his fumbled words and miniscule gestures. She almost felt the vomit reach her mouth, how pathetic. But she eased off with the one thing she really gauged off of people that had nothing else to offer to her - looks. Rita was far from skin-deep, seeing every flaw inside and out. But when her perspective prey doesn’t have at least the basic of the same characteristic, she resorts to looks and movement. Those that don’t pass are instantly thrown into the garbage category. Ryan, luckily had the looks and personality. She was even put off a little by how innocent natured he was. It made her wonder what it would take to break him - and concluded, not much. But she wasn’t in the mood or carried the desire to test that theory. She looked beyond him, seeing as her eyes made him less than comfortable in her presence. Then replied with the sugarcoated, but dangerous coo used for normal conversation. You never really knew which way to think; whether she was in a cold mood, or just bored. ”Potions eh? Maybe you need a tutor.” She smiled while keeping her eyes away from his face. It was her simple gesture to show that she didn’t want to be hostile.

But moods change. Hers though, was staying consistent. She knew very well he would never want her as a tutor, but she needed some small talk to pass the time. He was straddling her boredom ledge, and pretty soon she’d need some amusement. She decided to move as he did, in sort of a mockery, but more so to keep herself entertained. She moved back from the ledge, then took a few steps forward at a fast run, and jumped straight up on the ledge. It was insanely dangerous, since if her feet wouldn’t have coordinated so nicely, she would have fallen farther and farther until there wouldn’t have been much to fix of her. But her movements didn’t go in vain, as she wobbled bleakly for a few seconds, then turned to him and smiled again. Her eyes were mischievous, while her arms were straight out for balance. If he truly wanted to kill her, he could just push her off. But then again, she had quick reflexes. Even stronger, she didn’t picture him as a murderer. So instead, she stayed arms outstretched and gleaming. ”Want to try something dangerous?” She asked even though she figured he would just turn her down politely in those innocent vocals of his. He really was bemusing.