8 Feb 2021, 16:20
The Fizzle of Fury
Monday 8th February 2021
“Why do I even bother?” She huffed, long pale fingers wracking through her hair. The once neatly falling curls now in disarray from the number of times she’d done it since breakfast. Most of her anger was reserved for her father, as it so often seemed to be these days, but a part was also aimed at herself for letting him get to her in the first place. She’d promised the last time that he’d sent one of his letters that she’d just ignore the next. More often than not they were just full of disapproval and bigoted options which the young Slytherin didn’t agree with.
She’d managed to make it until lunch before the desire to open the owl had been too much for her to resist. The tingle at the back of her spine being the driving factor for her to finally read it. What if something was wrong, she’d argued, what if Helena had fallen ill on her travels? The deeply rooted pessimism in the young girl had been enough for her to succumb to his words, also thinking the worst.
But, nothing had been wrong, of course. Her father never sent word unless it was benign musings of a man who cared more for blood purity than his own daughters wishes. From that moment, a deeply etched frown had taken residence on her features, not budging for the rest of the day. It had made her tetchy, scowling at anyone who tried to talk to her - friend or foe. She’d even snapped at a first year earlier simply for not walking quick enough. An apology had been on her lips the second she’d realised what she’d done, but the fearful look in the younger girls eyes told her it was too late. It had only worsened her mood.
She’d been pacing around outside for the past twenty minutes, having finished her classes for the day. After a quick trip to the dorms to change into something warmer, she’d practically sprinted outside, hoping the cool air would help calm her slightly. It didn’t seem to be working. She still fizzled with anger, no where for the emotion to go. For a fleeting second she considered writing back to her father and telling him exactly where he should shove his opinions. It was disregarded when she realised the threat to pull her out of Hogwarts was still hanging just above her head.
The pacing was the only outlet she’d found, knowing that setting fire to a nearby tree might also run the risk of getting her kicked out of Hogwarts. So she paced, and she grumbled, and she not so silently fumed - spitting disapproving words of “bigot” and “arsehole” and “stupid blood purist” as she moved.
Perfectionist | Prodigal Charms Learner | Lovely Creature
Stamina - 8 | Evasion - 9 | Strength - 2 | Wisdom - 12 | Arc Power - 7 | Accuracy - 9
Stamina - 8 | Evasion - 9 | Strength - 2 | Wisdom - 12 | Arc Power - 7 | Accuracy - 9
12 Feb 2021, 02:43
The Fizzle of Fury
Hogwarts had proved to be an interesting experience for sure. Granted, Merle had known enough about the school to imagine things, and magic in general had never been lacking at her Grandmother's house, but there was something about the whimsy of the large castle that she had not been expecting. Everything, from the Great Hall and its enchanted ceiling, to the way the dormitories were arranged, and the classes taught.
Merle felt at home.
She'd managed to get herself sorted into the same house as her childhood friend, and she'd made tentative friendship with a couple other students. Life was good, all in all, and so was her general mood; no terrible cousins to horrid to her, new beginnings to tend to... it was all rather invigorating. Despite that however, Merle found herself falling back on habits of old. The same habits she fell back on when she was anxious, for although Hogwarts had proved itself to be a decent place, it was all still rather new. As such, searching the courtyard and grounds for snakes, as she'd often searched her grandmother's backyard, was a calming, soothing habit to fall back on.
Perhaps, they were too far north, for there to be any snakes on the grounds however. Perhaps too cold for the creatures to survive the weather, but still, the searching was what helped, that thus search she did, though she saw not one glittering scale in the sun. She'd been about ready to give up and simply go in search of Quin, or perhaps Cooper, then some hissed words caught her attention, and she turned her head. The words, insults, really, made the girl tilt her head, somewhat akin to a curious dog, and she followed the grumbling to find not a snake, but a girl pacing back and forth in quite the snit. Granted, her house colors of green and silver seemed to indicate that perhaps Merle had indeed found a snake that afternoon. Just... perhaps not one as tiny as she'd expected to find.
Hooping over a small set of bushes with the grace of someone that had enjoyed her fair share of the outdoors as a child, Merle approached the girl, "Whose a bigot now?" she did a cursory glance around the courtyard, as if expecting whomever had obviously insulted this girl to be right there for the taking, "Someone insult you?" here she lowered her voice, a hand coming up to cup the side of her mouth as she whispered conspiratorially, "If you tell me who, I'll help you find a flubberworm and make sure it ends up inside the collar of their robes. Make them squirm."
She had no idea who, or even if the girl had been insulted, but her sensibilities told her to help, and so thus, offer help she did. Even if help was in the form of potential aid in a harmless prank.@Sarah Lightwood
M. C