29 Mar 2021, 21:45
Spilled Ink
@Anja Murtaja
#6c397f
Fingernails tapped idly on the surface as Daffodil used her other hand to scribble her Charms homework, wanting to avoid procrastinating it until the last moment. Her hand ached and her arm felt as if it could no longer continue moving in a continuous left to right rotation but she was almost finished, had almost completed the assignment.
The smash of the pot came before Daffodil laid her gaze to the black inky mess on the table. In a state of panic, she quickly placed her quill upon the wood, pushed herself away from the table and stood up to savour what she could.
Her hands worked to separate that which was untouched to the things that were destroyed and no longer of use. She shoved the parchment which could be saved into the far corner of the wooden table and begun to work on piling up all of what was ruined; that she’d have to spend hours working on again.
Daffodil hadn’t a clue as to how the pot had made its way onto the floor of the library, scattered in many pieces of sharp glass. One moment she were writing down the importance of using the correct wand movements, and the next a shattering invaded her ears. Perhaps she had accidentally knocked it when she moved further down the page or scribbled out a sentence she did not like, her elbow reaching far enough to nudge the glass filled with liquid right off the wooden surface.
“Fuck,” Daffodil cursed, as she scrambled to the edge of the table to find the black ink had spilled over and dripped onto the floor. She moved to open her bag, took out a spare piece of parchment and crouched to lay it down on the floor, in the hopes that it would catch the drops of ink before staining the carpet.
She looked around for something or someone that could help; being caught in the Library in this predicament by a member of staff would be extremely embarrassing and no doubt would reward her a punishment for making such a mess.
Her eyes caught hold of the empty sheets of parchment that still occupied her bag - she would have to get some new sheets when the opportunity rose. Hands fumbling though the contents, she took out as much as she could spare and began to pat down the ink that remained on the table.
2 Apr 2021, 14:33
Spilled Ink
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A hissed “Fuck,” issued from the alcove, and Anja decided to go investigate. How very Hufflepuff of me, she thought with slight disdain, before dismissing the thought as ridiculous. She was greeted with a sight that was not uncommon in places of study such as the library — a girl had spilled a bottle of ink all over the table, and, it seemed, over her homework. Anja debated over whether she should go to help the girl or keep her distance. The girl seemed to be a Slytherin, and Anja wondered if it would be useful to make her acquaintance. She didn’t have many allies in Slytherin, even though she had made friends with a few girls in her dorm.
She pushed back her shoulders and rearranged her satchel, in the classic Slytherin pose, before clearing her throat gently and asking, “Do you need any help there?” She wrinkled her nose at the table and the ruined parchment — the remains of an essay, perhaps? The ink had already begun to drip onto the carpet, and had spread across the table, nearly reaching the sheets of clean parchment at the end. The girl had clearly sprung back when the pot spilt, and looked quite disgruntled. Unusual for a Slytherin, Anja thought. She pulled out her wand, ready to perform a charm if the need be.
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's Grace | Stam 4 | Evas 4 | Stren 3 | Wisd 8 | Arc power 8 | Acc 8
10 Apr 2021, 10:49
Spilled Ink
replying to @Anja Murtaja
#61187c
Resisting the jolt that she ought to have made upon hearing the voice that came from behind her, Daffodil turned to face the owner of the sound, barely acknowledging who it belonged to,“What does it look like?” She retorted, taking no notice of the tone of her own voice. “Are you blind?” She queried, her right hand gesturing to the mess of parchment, glass and black ink sprawled across the wooden table.
Her gaze landed on the wand the girl had pulled, “Do you really think that will help to remove all of the ink?” She mocked the girl, noting the colour of her tie and robes. Dark green. Snake upon her left chest. A Slytherin. Having not taken a good look at the female before she hadn’t noticed they both shared a dorm. Daffodil pondered for a moment, a name failing to come to the forefront of her mind. She couldn’t even remember which bed belonged to the girl but had seen her around plenty to recognise her face.
Daffodil returned to the mess she had made, regretting coming to the Library when she could’ve stayed in the Common Room. She hoped no staff member found her as the time ticked by, surely somebody other than her Housemate had heard the commotion she had caused.
Her hands made quick work of using the unneeded parchment to collect the ink that was dripping off of the side. “If you’re going to stand there at least make yourself useful,” She chided, not bothering to face the Slytherin as she continued to manage the mess she had made, trying her best to not let anything else spread. “You have spare parchment don’t you?” She questioned, gesturing to the inky mess before her that was in desperate need of help.
2 May 2021, 21:42
Spilled Ink
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“Do you really think that will help to remove all of the ink?" The girl's tone seemed to be mocking, but it was too weak for Anja to fully tell. "Well, are you a witch or not?" she mocked back. "Of course it will help. Have you ever heard of the cleaning charm?" Anja's tone was light and amused. Some people never did learn. Waving her wand, she performed the quick spell by whispering "Scourgify." She looked back up at the girl, and realised it was one of the other girls in her dorm. She couldn't quite remember her name, but if was something flowery — Rose, perhaps, or maybe Daisy?
Anja picked some of her spare parchment out of her bag. She'd planned to do some studying, anyway, and as she sat down at the freshly cleaned table, she held it out to her. Before she took it, however, Anja snatched it back, and offered her right hand out to shake. She didn't bother to stand up — an ultimate discourtesy when it came to manners of shaking hands. Perhaps if this girl was a pure blood, she would know. "Anja Murtaja," she said, her lip curling up cynically. "Glad to make your acquaintance." She handed the parchment back up for the girl to use. She unrolled her own sheet of parchment, as well as taking out her quill and intact inkwell. "I'm afraid I won't be sharing my ink. I have plenty of pencils if you don't have any spare ink, however." Dipping her quill in the teal ink, she began to write her essay (on charms, no less — what a waste of time), and asked, "Who are you?"
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