The Winter of Our Discontent PV Rafael D’spacito

@ Jo Morgan

[font=Segoe Print]Rafa really admired Jo’s persistence. He truly did – sure, they spat insults at each other consistently on a good day, and sure, they’d always carried a fresh, innocent hatred for each other. That was normal. But what wasn’t normal, was the slight undertone of respect the boy carried for his enemy. Though he would deny ever saying it out loud, or even thinking it in his thoughts, he would pick her in a tough spot any day. And the reason was simple – her grit was unlike any other, in the way that she never relented in anything. There were very few people with the ability and willpower to dig into a topic with the ferocity that she would, and even fewer who would risk her own safety for answers. It was quite admirable, in fact, and generally everyone who knew the Gryffindor girl could see it. And, for that reason, Rafa held a high respect for her, the same sort that dragged him to meetings with her on the ruddy days like today.

To be honest, if it had been anyone else calling for his assistance, he would have blatantly turned them down without a second thought. The fact of the matter was, he simply wasn’t in a pleasurable mood. Or any sort of tolerable mood. In fact, he was rather grumpy today, what with all the events of late. For one, it was as if the homework had been completely doubled. And, sure, there were those students that enjoyed homework. Rafael wasn’t, and had never been, of that particular crowd. In fact, he particularly loathed it. It just seemed to stress him out so much, that he could never focus on it. His attention span was just too small, his patience sorely lacking. Perhaps he slightly loathed those that could keep up in class – it was a particularly amazing trait to have. But why could others have it? Why not him? Who even decided those things, even?

The other issue had everything to do with his social life. And, this time around, it hadn’t even been his fault. Gem had gotten all miffed at him, over some stunt that Jack had pulled earlier in the new year. And, really, on an ordinary day, he wouldn’t have thought much of Jack kissing him on the cheek. The guy was a strange bird, that was for sure, and weirder things had led up to the situation anyways, so it was better just to not overthink it too much. But what angered Raaf was, the fact that Gem had been so upset about it. As if he would go after anyone other than the Ravenclaw. Bloody absurd. He was a loyal person, that was for sure, and anybody who thought otherwise could go screw themselves.

These were the thoughts on his mind as he wandered into the library, his countenance tense and angry, and his face a mess of emotions. The impatience in his body wafted off him like a nasty scent, piercing the air with his aggravation and frustration. Though he didn’t look ready to murder anyone, he was still definitely a sight, wearing look that wasn’t foreign to him but not at all ordinary. He was doing a ruddy job of masking his emotions, too, as he felt eyes trailing him upon making his way to his partner in crime. But no matter. Upon seeing the other Gryffindor, his countenance only worsened, as he gained a slouch and an unimpressed look. Clutching the letters that he so thoughtfully brought, he made his way towards the girl, scowling deeply. “You needed me?” he asked her, his tone biting and sarcastic.

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@Rafael D'Spacito



Jo looked up cheerily as Rafa entered, waving about an encyclopedia to get his attention. Her grin vanished as she noticed his demeanor - the boy seemed all riled up over something. Perhaps it had something to do with Quidditch or his boyfriend. It could also be the bummer of a fact that the pair wouldn’t be allowed on Professor Price’s Hogsmeade adventure. In retrospect, the two should have just hopped onto Rafa’s broom and whizzed away instead of spilling the beans to a professor! Then again, there would still be the problem of acquiring the necessary potion ingredients…

“You needed me?”

Jo rolled her eyes. The way he snapped at her - it was as if they hadn’t a murder to solve!

“What’s ruffled the Thunderbird’s feathers now?” She commented drily, setting down the encyclopedia with an audible thump. “No, seriously, you’ve gotta tell me what’s bothering you or we aren’t going to make any progress today. Yes, I ’needed you’, but aren’t you curious yourself? Nothing is ever worth hiding that isn’t worth discovering. Frankly, I don’t know how you have the time going about fighting everyone you come across when we’ve got so much homework and a bazillion clues to discover!”

An idea sprung to her mind without warning, and she cocked her head sideways in a playful tease. “This…doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Burnett had a massive welp on his cheek during Herbology, now, does it? Really, Rafa, you’ve got to stop walloping every poor person you see! It isn’t the Paleolithic era any more - punching someone to establish dominance just isn’t in vogue anymore. Besides, one day you’re going to deck someone a foot taller than you out of pure habit. And then, as the Neanderthals would say, you’ll get jurasskicked.”

She snickered at her own joke.

@Jo Morgan

[font=Segoe Print]Rafa would be lying he we said that Jo’s comments didn’t infuriate him in the slightest. It wasn’t at all true that he went around, fighting everyone he ran into – he only threw punches if provoked, dammit! It hadn’t at all occurred to him that the other girl’s words were of good nature, only gentle prods to get him to open up about the matter. Perhaps this was because there was too much on his mind, a storm of dangerous thoughts flying around his head almost painfully, making it hard to pay attention to her true motives. He wasn’t in the mood for the girl’s antics today. “Jesus, Jo, bugger off, won’t you?” he spat at her rather sourly, rubbing his eyes long and hard. This just wasn’t his day – hopefully, Jo would see that, and shut her mouth. He came here to look into the Potter Trial, not argue with Jo about his personal life! Besides, there were better people to talk to about these things. Friends. The Gryffindor boy pushed down his emotions for the moment, his lip bit in annoyance. Jo wasn’t his friend, that’s much was clear. They were only work partners. She was the last one he needed to spill his guts to.

Any calmness he had once found in his situation had soon enough come back full-force at the sound of the Slytherin’s name – his shoulders immediately tensed, and he slammed the letters down on the table, his fury returning with vengeance. His eyes burned with his anger, his fists clenched and his demeanor positively fuming. “He deserved it, yeah?” he growled, his teeth grinding against each other in attempt to relieve his rage. “Now, leave it. ‘S not worth getting into right now.”

With that declaration, the boy took a seat at the table, immediately making himself comfortable – he set his feet up on the tabletop, taking the letter from the top of the pile and looking over it in an attempt to avoid Jo’s gaze. “What are we looking at?” he asked her. “Dig up anything new, have you?” Though his words allured at a compliment, his tone was still harsh and biting, almost provocative. Really, he did need to calm down – he took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes to relieve some of the anger he was feeling. It helped a bit, but not enough. With a sigh, he turned towards the girl, his eyebrow raised in an annoyed manner. “Seems that you would have found something by now, as you usually do."
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@Rafael D'Spacito

“Jesus, Jo, bugger off, won’t you?”

Jo cringed at the boy’s harsh tone. So much for lightening the mood, then. It was strange that he should be so upset... boyfriend problems, definitely. Jo still couldn't see how that tied in with Burnett, unless Burnett had stolen Rafa's boyfriend, which would be both devastating and hilarious, at least from her perspective.

“He deserved it, yeah? Now, leave it. ‘S not worth getting into right now.”

Something about his tone irked her. She liked to consider herself a quite professional young woman, despite her tendency to completely go off the rails when she was lied to. Besides, she was in a mystery-solving mood. Rafa had a mystery, and she was going to probe his bruise until she got the answers to his anger, no matter how many buttons she pushed along the way, which would probably be quite a lot. See, this was investigative journalism. This was practice. And, considering her opponent was Rafa, it was a somewhat safe practice as long as she watched her tongue. Which, right now, she was not about to do. It seemed that in between their fights, pretty boy Quidditch jock Rafa had forgotten that his little Gryffindor rival could play just as nasty if she wanted to.

A scowl spread onto Jo's face as she twirled her quill, hoping she appeared as indifferent to his problems as she intended to be.

“Chill the fuuuck out, Rafa. I’m not being friendly. I’m asking you what the hell happened today so you can get it off your chest and we can actually get some research done. I can see you’re going to be a sour puss about it all day unless you talk to someone, and you need to have clear mind when you’re working with evidence, else your conclusions will be biased and careless. We tend to overlook things when we’re upset. That’s not just you - I do it too. We can’t afford that. So just spill the damn beans, birdbrain. We both know Burnett is … a massive douchebag, so it’s not like this is anything new. And for Merlin’s sake, if you see him again, give him this.”

The grimace never left her face as she tossed a small wrapped package onto the table. Perhaps he would recognize the wrapping… it was the gift she had placed under the tree during the Secret Santa fiasco.

OOC: Feel free to rip the packaging off or ask what is inside.

“What are we looking at? Dig up anything new, have you? Seems that you would have found something by now, as you usually do."

"After you." Jo muttered, disinterested. "I've got lots to share, but don't tell me for a moment you intend to actually listen, not with that attitude."

@Jo Morgan

[font=Segoe Print]Rafael was… not exactly sure how to react to Jo’s sudden outburst. Sure, perhaps he had deserved it – he was being a bit of a douche as of the moment – but, to be completely honest, he hadn’t known that the girl was even capable of firing such words at someone. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her this annoyed – sure, they had fought a lot, but this time, their disputes seemed a bit more than superficial. In fact, she seemed to be matching him in rage, something very few people were capable of doing. Part of him could respect her for that –

The other part felt all the more enraged.

Instead of respecting her wishes, his countenance fell into a sort of angry look, completely mirroring his inward fury – a scowl shone on his features, his eyes glaring with the ferocity of all his hate. “The hell, Jo?” he sneered venomously, leaning forward with an absolutely scathing look. “You think I owe you something? I don’t. Not in the least.” He released a very forced laugh, one that didn’t seem friendly in the least as he offered her a sarcastic smile, the sort that worried even himself. “This isn’t a fucking therapy session, we’re here for answers! Fuck. Off.”

Leaning back once more, he settled into a rather comfortable position, his arms crossed tightly and the anger never leaving his demeanor. He would have left the matter at that, if Jo’s words hadn’t come back to him int hat moment – “What’s your damage with Jack, huh?” he asked, his voice a bit more calm. Though, if anything, he weren’t calm – there was something dangerous brewing in his chest, something threatening and dangerous. He’d already vowed to murder Jack next time he laid eyes on him – the very thought of the Slytherin messing with his friend enemy tested his very being, his hands clenching into fists and his fury only intensifying, leaving the edges of his vision red and deadly.

At the sight of Jo’s package, Raf cocked his head upward, regarding the Christmas gift with a contemptuous glare. After a moment of contemplation, he took it into his hands, resting his elbows on the table and spinning in a few times in his hands. Instead of asking the girl for permission to open it, however, he wasted no time in disassembling the paper, albeit wryly. His curiosity was officially piqued – there were certainly variables in play that neither of them had shared openly. He had to get to the bottom of their predicaments – it was the only way he would be able to sleep at night. [/font]
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@Rafael D'Spacito


What was it about her recently? It seemed as if she had become more irritable and sarcastic recently. She could chalk it up to murder, or she could chalk it up to Jack. Both would be correct - one contributed to her paranoia, and the other to her recent lack of social interaction and cantankerous demeanor.

“You think I owe you something? I don’t. Not in the least. This isn’t a fucking therapy session, we’re here for answers! Fuck. Off.”

“Owe me something? You sound just like Burnett. I wasn’t asking any favors. I’m not trying to be ‘here for you.’ I’m not your damn therapist. I’m trying to solve a mystery and last time I checked you were too. You need to be here, mentally, so we can get some research done. Does that sound like a favor?”

“What’s your damage with Jack, huh?”

“You’re asking me but you don’t want to answer when I ask? Interesting.”

The packaging fell away beneath Rafa’s hands to reveal a small, green ornamented cube. It was blank on all sides except one, onto which was inscribed a riddle and above it three bronze circles. the texture was light and felt like wood, but the cube looked as if it were made of a metal such as tin. Magical gifts were wonderfully mysterious, and the dissonance of the senses might throw the boy off a bit , but there was a much more pressing mystery, in glittering words on one of the cube’s facets.

The riddle, written in scrawling letters, was

“The more you take of me, the more of me you leave behind. What am I?”

“Go on.” Jo would say, a bit pissed off that the Bird hadn’t asked before ripping her packaging open. She’d spent a lot of time on it, and even though she gave it to him to open herself, she was also testing him a bit.

”See if you can solve the riddle. I can redo the cube at the end - it’s meant for multiple uses. If you tell me your ’damage’, I’ll tell you mine. Do try not to break the cube, please. I want it to be intact when I smash it into Burnett’s head.”

A note fell out of the package. It read,

“Entertain you? Challenge accepted.”

Rafa wouldn’t get much answer from Jo should he attempt to question its nature. It was high time she got some answers herself.

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Interacting With: @Jo Morgan
Mentioning: Jack Burnett • Gem Stuart

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[font=Segoe Print]“I’m not your damn therapist. I’m trying to solve a mystery and last time I checked you were too. You need to be here, mentally, so we can get some research done. Does that sound like a favor?”

Jo’s words were harsh, cutting against the walls of the Young Captain’s very sanity with each syllable she so angrily uttered, and yet, the young child couldn’t bring himself to care all that much, his own gaze intensifying and sneer growing more pronounced with every tick of the library clock. He wasn’t sure why, in hindsight, her words hadn’t fazed him like they should have. Perhaps because the insinuation that he was like Burnett, surprisingly wasn’t too far off from the truth – both were slightly crazed, both ambitious, and went lengths to assure a victory for themselves, even if people got hurt in the process. That was okay with him. Because he knew that’s where the similarities ended. Jack was certainly an enemy, that could no longer be questioned – nonetheless, that didn’t mean he had to spill his guts to Jo, tell her he thought that. In fact, he stood proudly by his words, he didn’t owe her anything. It was typical of a boy like him to be wary of any form of debt, whether it be monetary or social. Having lived on the streets, he’d long since learned the hard way that debt always pushed one to do things they’d never wished to do. And, the fact of the matter was, Rafa didn’t get pushed. He didn’t budge. And he sure as hell didn’t get talked down to, like Jo was doing now.

The words were dancing on his tongue, the danger licking like hot flames in his eyes as he leaned forward, face reddening considerably and knuckles clenching as he slipped them into his pockets. Jo had certainly backed him into a corner with her words – they definitely did have business to see to today, business that had little to do with his personal life or agenda. But even so, it was his business. His feelings were his weakness, and weakness was the last thing he needed to show to anyone, let alone the girl that annoyed him the most. He trusted her, yes, but how far did that trust extend? Why did he feel comfortable chatting about the Potter Mystery, and not his social life? That didn’t matter. He’d been interrogated before, by meaner people with uglier faces. She wanted something out of him? She would have to pry it right out of him with a good shot of Veritaserum. His mouth parted in the slightest, his vocal cords tightening, ready to express his harsh feelings right back at her –

It was then, that he would properly see the cube.

The wrapping paper littering the floor, the boy couldn’t help at gaze at the chunk of green, feel the smooth edges beneath his fingers as the words of his fellow Gryffindor were slowly drowned out by the throbbing of his own head. What – what was this? It was weird, for a moment he couldn’t make heads or tails of what he was staring at so vivaciously, his eyes skimming off the surfaces and facets of the mysterious item. Though, it wouldn’t take long for him to see the riddle inscribed at the top, scrawled against three bronze circles. While the boy was no good at riddles, he’d heard this one before. “Footsteps,” he uttered in almost a whisper, a psyched-out look now crossing his face as he tossed the small item in his hand into the air, before catching and smacking it between his two hands, much like one does with a basketball before shooting. He was confused, it was more than evident on his face, his brows furrowed, his lips pursed in question. “I don’t get it,” he voiced, a now pondering edge to his hostile voice. “What’s the big deal here – ?”

The big deal, he realized in a moment’s notice, was that Jo had history with Jack too.

He couldn’t be sure of what prompted the realization. Perhaps it was the wrapping paper, the perplexing puzzle written on the cool stone, or perhaps it was the look on Jo’s face, the accusatory tone in her voice. He just knew, call it intuition, call it his gut feeling, call it the poor impulses that plagued his every waking move. They must have talked at the gift exchange, he deducted thoughtfully, perhaps they’d exchanged sympathies after Jo had run off to catch up with the fleeing snake. What had happened? Had he hurt her? What had happened, that he didn’t yet know about?

Well, he supposed he should answer her question, then.

The child cocked his head to the side in a contemplating way, his lip bit between his teeth and eyes gazing at the floor beneath his feet as he thought for the proper words to explain the situation. It was then, that he would speak, now sobered up from his blind rage, a more irritated air about him. “Jack kissed me on New Years’ Eve. Right here, on the cheek,” he stated plainly, tapping the left side of his face. “He didn’t ask, I didn’t let him, he just fucking did it. And then, when I was too psyched out to do anything about it, I let him off free, told him to get his shit together and leave me alone.” His voice was a sharp growl, his arms now crossed before him as he now stared off into the distance. Hunched like a criminal, body language clearly masking the discomfort he felt. “Found out today that he’d gone after my boyfriend. You know, Gem. Went and kissed him on the cheek, too, just like he’d done to me. Gem just got done throwing a bloody fit, he thinks I cheated on him. Jack just bloody screwed up our relationship.” They hadn’t left things on good terms, that was for sure. Gem had disappeared, and so had he, far away from the stress and discord that was the courtyard encounter – the Captain shuddered to even reminisce. He believed he had every right to be angry. And the tidbit he’d shared wasn’t even the half of the whole story.

But that wasn’t what they were here for. The Gryffindor looked up, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at his interrogator. “So, what, this was supposed to be for him?” he shook the cube, tossing it back to the girl. “What’s your damage, then? What did he do to you? Don’t think I didn’t see you two disappear into the small hall together. What are you guys? Boyfriend and girlfriend? You going to him with the information we find? I’d hope not.” His gaze sharpened. “Jack screws up everything. Or maybe you’ve found that out the hard way…” [/font]

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OOC • I'm so sorry for leaving this untouched...

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@Rafael D'Spacito


“You’ve got to say it a bit louder. Footsteps.”

A shimmering liquid silver emerged from the cube and engulfed one of the circles, which melted away and disappeared, leaving behind only two.

Jo whispered the words, half-subconsciously, as they swirled into being on the enigmatic cube.

Six faces have I, and twenty-one eyes
Yet thou will of course use my face more than I, and thou movst my faces to look at mine eyes. What, pray, am I?

”Found out today that he’d gone after my boyfriend. You know, Gem. Went and kissed him on the cheek, too, just like he’d done to me. Gem just got done throwing a bloody fit, he thinks I cheated on him. Jack just bloody screwed up our relationship.”

Jo was completely taken aback. Burnett was no saint, but this was on a whole new level. She almost felt bad - her troubles were nothing compared to this.

I’m sorry,” she said in a hushed tone, but the words didn’t seem right. She wasn’t sorry. She was angry. She was hurt. She was quietly devastated at how much someone could hurt another just for their sport. “I mean, damn. I knew that you hate him too, but...not like this. That’s insane.”

Insane was right - yes, that was the word she was looking for. Senseless, selfish, and insane.

”So, what, this was supposed to be for him? What’s your damage, then? What did he do to you? Don’t think I didn’t see you two disappear into the small hall together. What are you guys? Boyfriend and girlfriend? You going to him with the information we find? I’d hope not. Jack screws up everything. Or maybe you’ve found that out the hard way…”

Jo bit her lip, unable even to reprimand Rafa for his tease about the two being a couple. This was one of the memories she didn’t like to talk about. “I guess you could say I found out the hard way, though it’s nothing compared to what happened to you.” She took a breath before continuing. “We met during a transfigurations class. I was eager to make friends, and I misjudged him. I thought he was smart and good at arguments and persuasive. So I didn’t care that he wasn’t nice - I didn’t know anything about him. A bit later, Secret Santa rolls around and I get paired with Burnett. And...”Jo shook her head, trying to make some objective sense of how she felt back then. “I... you have to understand that where I come from we don’t do Christmas. Or Halloween. Our customs are really old and they’re a bit hard to understand, but we never ‘get together’ as a family and have fun and swap gifts and things. Where I come from, most holidays and ceremonies are solemn occasions. So this is all new to me. I mean, when Lady Aith... when my ‘legal guardian’, I guess, first introduced me to Christmas in London I was just completely blown away at how festive everything was. I guess I expected everyone to share my enthusiasm. Anyway, it was one of my first ever chances to really ‘do something nice’ for someone. That cube was his secret Santa gift. I knew he liked showing off that he was smart, and so I wanted to give him that experience- of everyone clapping when he solved the riddles, of being cool and awesome not because he was strong but because he was smart, you know? I guess you wouldn’t know. So my gift wasn’t a present so much as it was an experience. A chance to be liked and admired for who he was. Because for all the shit he’s done his sole redeeming quality is that he’s clever.”

Jo rubbed her face and scratched at her head, letting out a half-hearted yet audible breath.

“But you were there. You saw how he ran away when he looked at you. He said he was repaying a debt by avoiding you, but he asked me not to tell you because he didn’t like owing debts to people. I ran after him, because I couldn’t bear the thought of him opening the present all alone and having no one to see him or clap when he solved the riddles. That would... that would ruin everything. I told him he was being cowardly and selfish by avoiding you instead of apologizing, and he said some really hurtful things. Most of them didn’t mean anything, but they weren’t things that you say to someone who genuinely cares about you. He said he wasn’t like me - that he didn’t want to be thanked. I think that was what I hated the most. I didn’t do this to be thanked. If I had wanted to be thanked, I wouldn’t have been part of a “secret Santa”, I’d just give out presents normally. He made me feel...” For some reason, Jo felt the overwhelming urge to just stop talking. Talking about feelings was never her “thing”, and those feelings being negative only compounded her stress. “He made me feel like I was selfish and wrong for wanting to see him happy. It was one of the first times I’d ever genuinely spent time trying to please another person and... I guess I didn’t expect to get hurt for it. It wasn’t his fault I got too invested in my present to him, but he did something terrible to you and tried to run away from it, and when I confronted him, which I tried to do nicely, he made me feel awful for it. I may or may not have cried a bit.”

Even old wounds hurt like hell when they reopened. “Sorry,” Jo mumbled, shifting in her seat. “It’s just... I don’t get along with him. Not at all.”