Inspiration For Exploration Closed

Wall-o-phile. He was already not a fan of that little name. If that were a nickname that stuck to him, he would throw an absolute fit. The corner of the boy's lip tightened as a small show of displeasure, but the annoyance had been quickly forgotten as she went on to talk about how his waxing poetic would have done the world's most famous playwright and poet proud. However, he would never have to worry about stargazing or pining. The boy knew who he was to the bone. Why would he have to worry about stars or lost love, when there was nothing but air and space to stop him from getting what he wanted. If you want the stars, learn to fly. If you want to rekindle love, fight for it, and prove yourself worthy. It was as simple as that. Jack never understood moping about and getting nothing done. An absolute bloody waste of time.

"I'm glad that I've made a big enough scene for ya' to remember me by." The Hufflepuff Leaned closer to the Gryffindor counterpart, before Jack's expression changed from his usual lax and casual simper into one with a cold seriousness and continued, "But seriously, if kids start callin' me a Wall-o-phile, I will know how it started." Having felt that he made his point, Jack smoothly switched back to his normal cheeky grin. A wink was all Jack had to give after his not so veiled threat. He was hoping that it would be enough to let her know that he was only half-joking. Mr. Warren returned to a comfortable and reasonable distance and continued with his pleasant stroll. He had a record for holding grudges and hair-trigger reactions, so he had to stay true to character, at least somewhat.

Jack may be impulsive and oblivious, but he wasn't so stupid to the point where he couldn't notice Evelynn's sudden change in demeanor at his mention of the Key. Little did anybody know, Jack actually had researched the Key of Solomon. The Key was a grimoire that apparently dated back to the fifteenth century and was attributed to King Solomon. The grimoire's primary purpose was to inform the reader of rituals that summon and bind demons and spirits to do the caster's bidding, and that's a rather odd thing to find the symbol of the Key engraved in the fountain in the courtyard. This school was something else, and Jack knew that for sure. Honestly, the only reason he felt comfortable telling Evelynn about the Key was the fact he doubted most people even knew what it was in the first place.

Trying to learn the truth from a rumor is like a first kiss. Either it's far better than you could ever expect, or you could just end up with a busted lip and an awkward situation. Jack honestly never thought about taking the rumors of secrets as truth. His old man only ever told him to trust his eyes and the ground under his feet, yet hearing of a passage that leads to the Hog's Head...that could be the start of something fantastic if he could manage to find it. A greedy spark shined in his eye, and his cheeky grin twisted into something more devious.

Cogs in his brain were whirring. Plans of parties and the like enveloped his thoughts. Sadly, his contemplations had led to a lull in the conversation. That's when the question dropped. Damn it! Lulls in conversations always bring out unwanted questions! "My pocket? It's really not important. I haven't lost nothin', so you don't have to worry-" As if on cue, he reached back to the journal once again—creatures of habit, us humans. The questions kept on coming, "Ye, there are things in here that could get me in trouble, and I probably shouldn't tell the others as a whole." Jack wasn't good at faking the truth, and at this point, he had already been caught. No point in trying to fib his way out of it. "But that also includes you, girly. I don't like it when people go pryin' into my business. And no, I am not worried about hags. Nothin' they could do would ever scare me into letting go of what I 'ave. If they want ta' come after me and mine, they will be in fer a rude awakenin'. Let me tell ya' that much. It would have to pry this book from me cold dead hands." The aggravation in his voice accentuated his Irish accent. It was a rather distinct change from his normally light accent. This journal kept all of his discoveries, yes, but it held more than that. It has detailed everything he found worthy of note that has passed by his ears and eyes. The gravity of absolute seriousness the boy held would have been a shock considering how much of a bumbling fool he was acting only moments before. He was serious, and he would crush anybody or anything that was gunning for him.

Interaction with @Evelynn Decipio