Finished Holding my world together - with a boot string.

These are not my thoughts, everything is IC.

With the sudden shout of a loud and far older voice, Oliver was snapped out of his red visioned hateful haze. He, for the first time since he saw the girl fall, looked away from Sandy. He had his wand up, and Oliver based on pure instinct backed away. And he knew he was in trouble. If this wasn't the results of his actions. He had wide eyes, how it must look... Oh god how he looked. Blood dripping down his face, maybe over his robes. Glasses broken and discarded on the floor.

Sandy had the audacity to cry now. He had wanted her to, yes. Of course he did. She was beating the hell out of him, he wanted her to feel guilty. Biting him, punching him, she started this. She was the one who made it all spiral downhill, of course she would cry. Forcing the tears, to make Oliver look bad. Like he was the one that started it. There was nothing more persuasive then tears. He wanted to yell, at her, at Professor Weems, maybe even himself. He held back. Silent, taking deep breaths, having lost it during the fight.

Oliver had no words, none that he thought would be helpful. What- He needed to defend himself. He knew that, less he takes the mudbloods side. He opened his mouth, words on the tip of his tongue. It was hard to force it out. "She started it!" Good, good. It was finally something. His tone, once so bold, now wavered. Staring down authority, someone with the power he walked around acting like he had. Stupid boy. He was a stupid, stupid boy. He should have just casted a spell at her when she punched him. Not tried to fight her back.

"She punched me first, it- it was all self defense." He needed professor Weems to believe in him, he needed it. Having already dug a grave with his previous rule break, only four nights prior. Sneaking out in the dead of night with that Ravenclaw, Novalie. Now getting into a fight? His parent's would disown him at this rate. He was getting into more trouble in his few short months at Hogwarts then he had in his entire life. It was not a good look for him, for the Armani name. Oliver pointed at Sandy. "It was her! All her!" Did he look at her? No.

OUTFIT & INVENTORY Reducio Wand School robes

OOC NOTE & STATS/ABILITIES Reducio Fearless - Oliver does not scare easily, not effected by terrible presence or unsettling aura { Stamina: 7 }{ Evasion: 5 }{ Strength: 10 }{ Wisdom: 3 }{ Arcane Power: 2 }{ Accuracy: 8 }

Interacting : @Sandy Thompson, @Ruckus Weems |||| @n/a : Mentioning

detention incoming: @Sandy Thompson & @Oliver Armani

Fortunately, Ruckus's words had their intended the effect—the two students' attentions were toward him and somewhat off each other. Unfortunately, they both weren't in position to explain what happened and melted into babbling messes. The girl crying; the boy shouting blame.

Clearly the girl had punched him; the evidence was written on his face in blood and the way she was holding her hand. Was that the bite mark? Christ. But Ruckus also knew what he had heard, what the boy had called her.

He took a deep breath, planning the rest of his work day: take these two to the hospital wing, learn their names, and detention—aka, get to the bottom of this conflict, then maybe a firewhiskey.

He lowered his voice to a calm but stern hum. "Okay, okay, yes, I understand self-defense. Miss, we have strict rules about hitting, biting, or otherwise physically attacking another student. But young man, I also heard you say—nay, yell—a certain word that is also against the rules. I'll escort you both to the hospital wing where everyone can get cleaned up and maybe take a wee breather. But then tomorrow evening, after dinner, it's detention in my office."

Crying and biting eleven-year-olds were not his strong suit—Christ again, she bit him? He should probably ask about that at some point. But piecing together the boy's use of the slur, his Slytherin robes, and the ease which he blamed others, Ruckus had to bite back his tongue. He had to remember it's possible to for eleven-year-olds to unlearn bigotry, too.

With a twirl of his wand, Ruckus whispered, "Reparo!" at the boy's glasses. He carefully retrieved them, now mended, and held them out to the boy. "You'll be needing these I imagine."

Why did this blasted school sort students into stereotypes and then act surprised when they fulfilled them?

OOC: Yay! You've earned detention! I will owl you the thread details within a day or so—once it's created you will no longer be able create or join new threads until the detention is complete.