Hey, That's My Sandwich PV: Rafal Devereux

Rafal truly loves the Great Lake of Hogwarts. Perhaps the word is starting to lose all meaning for the Slytherin, since he really is rather the jovial sort and has a tendency to proclaim his great fondness for things far too easily - it is just last Tuesday that he decided the European Ferret was the single finest furry companion possible for irascible overworked students, with their stupid tiny little noses and inclination toward dance. Then a first year passed by with a pink Pygmy Puff balancing on her shoulder, and he had no choice but to retract his statement.

Still, nobody can deny the charm of the place. It is perhaps the finest spot for a bit of fresh air on school grounds, cool and serene. Of course, there may be a tad too many wild animals around the area, but where isn’t that true in this day and age?

Speaking of which. Rafal was simply minding his own business, leaning against a great oak and reading a book on the dangers of the Pygmy Puff (and yes, that is the second year’s idea of fun) - when the most barmy thing happens. He had just wrapped up a particularly electrifying paragraph on how pygmy fur is actually a conduct for the species’ nefarious magic (nobody said it was a good book), and all of a sudden, a dark blur races by, mere inches from his face.

Rafal startles. His gaze follows the shape, to the figure of a girl who seems to be its target. The Slytherin does not have time to call out a warning - or really, even blink - before the girl’s sandwich is snatched, away and gone. Now, normally, Rafal is a very sympathetic sort of character. Really, he is! But the sheer comedic nature of the crime is so utterly astounding and bizarre, his reaction turns out to be rather the opposite.

Rafal is not proud of it. But he laughs. Hard. As the Slytherin ducks his head and clutches his stomach between guffaws, his Pygmy puff book falls to the ground, where it lays, a bright spot of neon pink amongst dark woody twigs and branches.

Interacting with @Rosaline Everhart

date	place	tags	wc	speech	outfits
02/09/25	Great Lake	@Rafal Devereux	367/200	#36563c	xxx

Rosaline was still in shock at the incident that had just happened in front of her. She was stunned into a daze. Before she could make any response, the black kite had already flown high into the trees. Looking up in disbelief, she stamped her foot in frustration and pointed her finger skyward. “You… you…” she stammered. The lion could not think of any words for this kind of situation. Birds sang songs in the trees. Though they definitely weren’t the kite that had stolen her sandwich, their singing was mocking to her now. She shook her head, trying not to take it out on the innocent birds.

A sudden laugh startled Rosaline; the sound was near her. She turned around and saw a boy with blonde hair, who was laughing out loud. Her face flushed crimson at once. How on earth could she have been so unlucky on the second day at Hogwarts? She stood there stiffly, just staring at the boy for a brief moment. Unexpectedly, her stomach growled, not very loud, but enough to let both of them hear the sound. She felt so embarrassed and turned her head away slightly.

But after that embarrassing moment, she realized that his laughter held no malice; he was just laughing at how unbelievable it was. If it were her, she’d be chuckling too. Trying to lighten the mood, she joked, “Umm, do you think it would give me back my sandwich?” Though this was a joke, she was now really thinking she should go back to the Great Hall for some food. She was starving; not only had she barely survived Potions, but she was also just robbed by a bird! Thinking of this, she chuckled a little. She hoped the boy wouldn’t feel like she was crazy for changing her mood so fast, but it was too ridiculous.

She glanced at the boy and noticed something unusual. On the ground lay a book, its open page showing a neon pink picture. It looked like a magical creature, but it was too far to see clearly. Her eyes lit up in curiosity. She asked, “Can I ask what that pink little guy is in your book?”

Reducio ooc notes

Reducio stats stamina: 6 | evasion: 5 | strength: 5 wisdom: 8 | arcane Power: 7 |accuracy: 4 Lovely Creature

Rafal doubtless likes to believe that he is more in control of his own functions than most twelve year olds, and under most circumstances, this statement would be indisputably correct. While he is still positively vociferous when compared to say, their Potions professor (to be fair, who isn’t?), the boy can generally maintain quite a reasonable state of equanimity.

But at this moment, all that has been thrown out into the sparkling waters of the Great Lake, sunk deep within its depths and made into a late afternoon tea for the dark and malevolent creatures which dwell within. A cake, or possibly a small sandwich. It appears that there is truly no limit to the hilarity of dive-bombing black kites and stolen dinner wraps.

Slowly, the laughter recedes, and Rafal tries hopelessly to focus through hazy eyes. He forces himself to fix his gaze on a single crinkled leaf on the woodsy floor, its edges curled inward as if mimicking the Slytherin’s own position. It does not help at all with his mission of solemnity, and his shoulders shake with the last residuals of mirth. But it too dies out, bit by bit.

All right. Rafal closes his eyes for a moment, composing. The initial gaiety has evaporated, and what remains is grey and foreboding. Now that he has at last had the opportunity to make use of his useless head, he must admit, albeit with great reluctance, that that whole reaction had been in poor taste. Some poor girl gets her meal stolen by a wild animal of the skies, and Rafal’s own role is one of an awfully unsympathetic onlooker.

His eyes snap open. First step, apologise. Actually, scratch that - did the girl even notice him? The thought briefly makes his heart jump in the thinnest veil of hope. After all, she had surely a lot on her mind at the time. Perhaps Rafal had gotten lucky. Straightening with a swiftly lightening chest, his gaze drifts to the scene of the crime.

A fifty pound boulder crushes on top of him. Evidentially, Rafal Devereux is not a lucky person. There, standing stiffly and unquestionably staring straight at him, is the victim to their feathered friend. The Slytherin’s brain short-circuits, and he blinks dumbly back at her, momentarily thrown. The veil is yanked down harshly.

When she speaks, it takes a moment for him to digest the words. For a second, he simply gapes, unable to comprehend the unexpected turn of events. Then the second year snaps out of the daze, shakes his head to clear his thoughts and scrambles to reply. "Uh, probably not."

Wait, that’s not right! He rapidly backpedals. "I mean, there’s always a statistical probability that the bird will… say, peck at your sandwich for a bit, decide it doesn’t like the flavour and find its way back to return it? A very, very small probability, but it’s… there?" What in Merlin’s beard is he rambling on about?

Okay, that was very much not good. Damn it, Rafal swears he’s smart! He knows the full, useless History of Merlin and Morgan Le Fay. He can cast that godforsaken tongue-tying (in both aspects) Mimblewimble spell. Even his sample of the treacherous Gregory’s Unctuous Unction had been adequate. All that stuff in his head really stops working at the worst of times, the owner with no say in the matter. It is more than maddening.

In all the chaos, all prior activities had been forgotten. Namely, a single brightly coloured tome, now nestled distinctively amongst dull, faded leaves and twigs, a harsh blot of inappropriately chosen ink on an otherwise masterfully blended canvas. The contrast is almost comical, if Rafal were currently in any state of mind to find it as such.

Brows furrowing, the Slytherin follows the girl’s line of sight. He casts a glance to where the volume lays, distractedly picks it off the ground, formerly delightful shade now mocking. He frowns at the cover for a beat.

"It’s a Pygmy puff."

Interacting with @Rosaline Everhart

date	place	tags	wc	speech	outfits
02/09/25	Great Lake	@Rafal Devereux	587/200	#36563c	xxx

Rosaline stood there, shifting from one foot to the other. Still, her face was colored with crimson. It was a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. Although she knew she shouldn’t lash out at the already gone black kite, she was frustrated. Observing the boy, she thought he probably was a second year because of the slightly taller build he had, and the green crest on his chest, indicating he was a Slytherin. His laughter gradually ground to a halt. He seemed still affected by the shocking scene — so did Rosaline — and he tried very hard to compose himself. It was rather weird for her to stare at a stranger, yet she had already talked with him; she felt she needed to continue the conversation. Also, their roles had reversed; he was now the one being observed. Quite odd.

She subtly clutched the side of her school robe. The boy finally spoke. Not long ago, his shoulders were shaking, but he had managed to calm them. This somehow made Rosaline feel amused. Her expression relaxed a little; her brows didn’t knit together anymore. The crimson on her cheeks changed to a light rosy pink. He was surprised Rosaline noticed him. She thought that he couldn’t blame her; the laughter was quite conspicuous. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t hear it. The boy answered her previous question with a negative guess, then quickly shifted to an affirmative one. Rosaline could sense his nervousness and felt that this was on even ground now. Not that she was offended. She knew his laughter was inevitable and not malevolent at all. She chuckled at his thorough analysis and said, “Thank you for giving me the tiny hope. Alas, I don’t think my sandwich is going back anytime soon. I can only hope it enjoys the peanut butter flavor.” A small smile appeared on her face. She didn’t expect a funny answer like this at all.

She glanced around, but the criminal was nowhere to be found. The woods beside the Great Lake were perfectly serene, not like a crime scene. If she had had that sandwich, she could’ve had a tranquil afternoon. Now the opportunity already seemed botched. She learned to accept her fate. At least, she met someone who was quite interesting. The boy still looked nervous about his words earlier. Rosaline consoled him gently, “I would definitely laugh like you in that scenario. It’s not a big deal. I’m just astonished by that kite.” She laughed a little. This could definitely be her material when she wrote the letter back home — a tragic yet funny story. At least no one was harmed, except her empty stomach.

Rosaline wasn’t used to standing up and talking with someone sitting on the ground, but she didn’t know whether it was appropriate, so she just sat and remained in the same position as before. Figuring it was probably the time she should introduce herself, she said with a gentle smile, “It’s a very odd time to say nice to meet you, to introduce myself. But here we are. I’m Rosaline, and it’s nice to meet you.” Then the topic shifted to the neon pink page from the book lying on the ground. He answered that it was a Pygmy Puff. The name piqued her interest. She thought she might have heard it at the Magical Menagerie before, but did not really know much about them. She tilted her head and asked, “Do you like them? They look adorable. I don’t think I’ve seen one before.”

Reducio ooc notes

Reducio stats stamina: 6 | evasion: 5 | strength: 5 wisdom: 8 | arcane Power: 7 |accuracy: 4 Lovely Creature