That Thing about Asking before Taking PV Kelsey Finished

Kels had only been at the camp for a little while. He didn't come back for the full camp experience, but he was required to be in attendance for the three major games going on with the other schools. He was mostly riding on a high after becoming one with his animal self at the end of July, but he had been kept far too busy to enjoy himself. He could barely keep track of his two hands with how many students there were milling about. Needless to say, he was not in a great mood. He would definietely be recruiting this upcoming year, two hands was just not enough.

It was this mindset he was in while the edge of his vision caught movement-- out of his bag! Saying Kels was possessive of his potions would be an understatement, as anyone with intimate knowledge of potioneering also knows just how quickly they could become a disaster. He took inventory every day, always made sure he knew exactly how much he had of what. In summer, that meant only carrying what he needed, and always keeping his bag with him. The fact that the contents within had still managed to be vulnerable to theft only reinforced Kels' paranoia.

"Hey!" A loud, serious voice. An angry adult voice! Kels didn't even acknowledge the student he had been working with as he got up and marched over to the red-draped elf in the shadow of a tree. "Get yer hands off my potion, ya dang jackroller!"

He would not be quick enough to beat the accio there, but if Niche caught the jar, Kels would expectantly hold his hand out for it to be returned to its rightful owner. Huffing, red-faced. He was not in shape and he was not happy.

Date: August 21st, 2021 | a bit after the race

| Outfit | @Kelsey Brumby

Nichlas watched as the jar flew toward him and grabbed it with his right hand, that had previously done its best to compress the wound that wouldn't close. Kelsey, the Hogwarts nurse was standing in front of him, fuming with raged expression. Nicke would look at him with a somewhat cold expression, though had to grit his teeth together as he caught the jar. His grip was slippery, smearing the glass jar and small label with his fresh blood, droplets of which would run down his hands along his wrist and forearm. "Oh käften," he hissed, with a huff that sounded vaguely like exhaustion. The man in front of him was smaller and despite the pain it caused, Nichlas would straighten up to accentuate his height.

"Jösses, what a foul language you possess for your age," the handsome boy replied a little smug as he glanced at the bloodied jar in his hand, twirling it between his fingers before enclosing it in his fist. "I don't think I can return this, I need it for myself after all, not to mention how unsanitary that would be" he said finally, the boy looked pale, more so than his usual self but his gaze was fierce as ever and now Nicke was determined to not leave without the healing paste or he thought he would probably pass out right as he reached his cabin. "So if you'd excuse me," he said, putting on a dazzling yet threatening smile. A last resort that often worked wonders, there was after all just something about the way he was perceived that put people at unease and he was one to often make use of the fact if he deemed it necessary.

When the boy not only refused to give it up, but also looked to be in an absolute state of disrepair, Kels only got more furious. What on earth was this kid's problem? Clenching the hand he had outspread into a fist, the rest of Kels' features would cinch and furrow. Even though he was genuinely upset, it came off as more of a pout. He was the furthest thing from intimidating, but he was also unafraid. This kid was not going to hear the end of it until he dropped this annoying attitude.

"Darn tootin' you need it for yerself! Look at what'a wreck you are! Why t'heck are ya stalkin' me for when you could ask?" Kels' foot tapped impatiently, restraining himself from wrestling the potion out of his hands, the blood would actually make it more slippery and easy to grab! "You give that back right now an' let me treat you! I mean it!"

He'd put out his hand again, having followed if Nichlas had taken any steps. There was no way Kels had his bag unguarded enough times for this kid to have happened upon it coincidentally. Something was up, he was definitely waiting for the right time to strike. As to why he wouldn't just ask, he couldn't fathom. He certainly didn't seem shy if he was reprimanding an adult. Well, he had Kels' attention now, and he was going to have to deal with that.

Nichlas would have probably fight back more, if he had the energy to, but as of now he could feel the dizziness of blood loss as well as the sensation of his mind dulling as shadows crept in the corner of his vision. If he would fight any much longer he would likely pass out and make himself look like a fool. "Fine, fine," he hissed as he pushed the little jar into the hand of the professor, or nurse whatever one might address him as. His fingers slipped on the wet jar as he felt himself stagger. His left arm would find the tree he had been hiding behind earlier. "Jösses...".

"You better won't be leaving behind any scarring or I'll file a complaint," he sneered. The motion had moved the gown that was part of his uniform, shifting it aside and revealing the wounds that had been caused by thorns. At the speed he had been flying, they had shredded part of cloth and the upper layers of skin, causing blood to escape and soak his precious uniform. Though he knew it would be an easy fix with a few spells, it was a shame that he had even let himself fail at such a simple task as navigating through a field of thorns. But right this moment, Nicke knew he was beat and that there was no use to fight, not with his strength and willpower escaping him by the second. Nonetheless, he couldn't deny that he hoped it would heal without a trace to show his skin had ever been blemished and he'd be impressed if the nurse were to accomplish it, despite his threat. He knew healing magic to be complicated, otherwise there would be many more nurses or wizards and witches with healing knowledge than there presently were. He himself would be much better at it as well.

Kels would sigh in exasperation and relief when the skyscraper relented, trying to ignore his totally annoying irreverent attitude despite looking like he had been torn apart. When the jar plopped into his hand, Kels quickly wiped it down with the hem of his shirt, not feeling like he had the time to pull out his wand and clean it with magic. He was right of course, as the foreign kid staggered like he was about to buckle under his own weight. Trying to act tough never worked out in the end, but people would continue to feign wellness no matter how silly it was. Another fact of healing Kels had learned to accept, even if it made him frustrated as all get-out.

The boy still had it in him to follow with another snide remark, but it was really only for show. He wasn't going to get Kels defending his own healing, his ability spoke for itself, and he had long abandoned trying to convince anyone that he wasn't as much of an idiot as he looked. Without another word, only a glance of petulant anger after seeing the scope of the wound, Kels pulled out his wand and made the precise movements. "Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur."

Slowly as he motioned the wand over the wound, any deep gash would start to heal, and the bleeding would cease. This spell was one generally used for serious emergencies, like being mauled by a bear or cursed with a bleeding spell, but it was excellent for any deep cuts. As the magic did its job, the pain would also go away. All that he would be left with was an aching in the spot the wounds were, mostly phantom pain.

"Now was that so hard, ya eejit?" Kels huffed.

If Nichlas said no more, he would turn around and go back to his job, the first order of business being to clean that bottle properly.

"Are the professors of this school supposed to run their mouth like that?" He'd ask the, what he assumed, nurse of Brittish origin. It would explain all the cussing, even if it was a tad bit stereotypical. His own voice was heavily accented by his own origin, Sweden. Nichlas would stare at the nurse as he was working on his wounds, his expression was unclear, perhaps a bit of confusion could be recognized in his features such as the frown that sat on his face. He would never understand the kindness of some people despite obviously having been mistreated. Those were the people that confused him the most, the one's that would be kind for no reason or worse, the one's that were kind despite having all reason to snap on you. But here they were, the nurse was healing his bruised bones and slashed wounds from the thorns that had gripped him mid-flight.

"Thank you, sir," he would ask, not because he was a nice person but because common etiquette demanded such a thing from him. Then again common courtesy usually did not involve attempted theft, but he could easily excuse that with his pride. His eyes were slightly narrowed as he stared down at the nurse of the foreign school and it almost looked like he wanted to say another thing, something more. But he stayed silent, as he lightly dipped his head in respect and readjusted his cloak in the regal manner it was supposed to sit on his shoulders. And with that he would excuse himself, as soon as Kelsey Brumby had responded to his silly inquiry.

Kels would squint, annoyed, as the boy questioned his professionalism. He usually let those kinds of comments slide off his back, he was quite used to people bemoaning his speech and behavior. However, this kid was really annoying and mean, so he had a chip on his shoulder that prevented him letting it go. "Yer lucky it didn't run further, you lil' ponce." If he was lucky, this kid wouldn't even know what a ponce was.

At the very least, the kid offered a pittance of a thanks. "Yeah, yeah, yer welcome." Kels would grumpily reply, waving him off. At least things hadn't escalated to be even worse, and Kels was the last person to give lectures and teach lessons. All he was here for was to do his job, and he did his job because he wanted to.

The truth was, he had many worse patients than this one, though being treated badly never felt great. The few other students still milling about seemed to be pretending not to notice the tense altercation, but there wouldn't be any major gossip to fuel their curiosity. If anything, maybe the next kid would think twice about crossing the diminutive nurse. For as much of a pacifist as he was, letting a potion out into the world to have the possibility of being misused was a serious issue. He didn't care who it was or how tough they looked, he'd always stand up for what he believed in.