Breakfast and Bitterness PV Violet Carrington 𝙲𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍

@Nicholas McCowan

Violet had woken up in the Slytherin common room, the usual morning exitement and lazyness to start another day in the air. After doing her daily self care routine, Violet went down to the Great Hall to eat breakfast. She sat down on a table, her white bag next to her, book in hand. She had taken the habit of reading a book while drinking tea and eating toast in the morning, whether it was a textbook or a storybook or novel. She just wanted something to entertain herself, since she wasn't the talkative, social type. Nor she wanted to be.

"Sorry, you don't mind if I sit do you?"

A partly familiar voice stopped her thoughts that were traveling in her mind, asking if they could sit down next to her. It was true, there was an empty seat next to where she was. Violet made a mental note to put her bag or something else on that spot next time she sat down. For a little bit more of time alone, you know. ''Yeah, sure, go ahead.'' Violet told Nicholas, the guy that she had met on the Quiddich Scrimmage a few days ago. Unfortunately, their team lost.

To be honest, Violet didn't really care. It had just been a game after all. But the thought that their had been such a large gap bewtween each team's points made her blood boil in anger. Surprisingly, McCowan brought the scrimmage subject up. ''Well, it's just a game. I wish we would've won too, but you know, we didn't.''

"That score, though, really wish you guys could have scored some more goals, actually put some proper damage on the board."

''Are you fucking KIDDING ME?!'' Violet banged her fist on her table, making her plate bounce up dangerously. ''If you hadn't done that foul, we would have much higher chances to win. But NOO, you decided to blurt Ranvier and make us look bad~''

All of a sudden, Violet became...Violent. She didn't like to be accused the way Nicholas had done, even if he was just saying it in the air. A fair player herself, Violet wasn't happy with what Nicholas did the day of the Scrimmage.

Nicholas hadn't expected his comment to be met with a negative reaction, let alone the outburst that erupted from the other girl. The boy instinctively ceased pouring the juice, instead finding himself shocked into silence as she went off at him. Confusion reigned over his mental state for a moment, before it was quickly overtaken by anger. How dare she? Not only did nothing he say warrant such a violent response, her accusation was entirely unfounded. He had fouled, yes, but to say that it had somehow cost them the game was entirely ridiculous. He hadn't been caught, and it had helped to reduce the speed that Ranvier had chased the snitch. No, he had done his job, he had targeted the seeker.

Maybe the way he had phrased the comment had been insensitive, that didn't warrant the sheer vitriol that escaped from the girl's mouth as she spoke to him. Yet throughout her sudden eruption, he sat dangerously still, his expression growing taught.

"The fuck? Excuse me?" He started, the words like venom upon his tongue, his tone icy.

"That foul helped delay Ranvier from getting the snitch. And look bad? I didn't get damn well caught, now did I?" His tone hastened as he spoke, cold rage turning hot as he continued to speak, "Besides, you didn't have a problem with the foul during the game now, did you? Way to shift the blame, real mature."

Nicholas was ignoring his breakfast entirely now, his attention fully focused on the Slytherin girl before him. The part of him that would so often question himself and fall into a pit of despair or self-loathing was entirely quiet. The shock of the sudden accusation and the degree at which the conversation had so quickly shifted meant that all of his negativity was funneled purely into his anger.

"Maybe the reason we didn't win is because you suck at being a team player," He finally added.

Tagging @Violet Carrington
Stats: STA: 7 | EVA: 6 | STR: 8 | WIS: 6 | ARC: 4 | ACC: 4
Abilities: Foulplay

@Nicholas McCowan

"That foul helped delay Ranvier from getting the snitch. And look bad? I didn't get damn well caught, now did I?"

''And it bloody hell worked, didn't it.'' Violet sneered, standing up from the table so that she could look taller and more powerful than McCowan. Crossing her arms and glaring at him once more, she couldn't help but grimace at his next sentence. "Besides, you didn't have a problem with the foul during the game now, did you? Way to shift the blame, real mature."

''Mature? Who the hell are you to talk about maturity, cheater.'' her grimace turned into a smirk. To be honest, Violet did not really blame Nicholas for the foul, but the thought that they had lost was merely unacceptable. All of these days of training to lose to a considerable amount of points? What a waste of time.

"Maybe the reason we didn't win is because you suck at being a team player,"

Now as shocked as ever, Violet looked at McCowan, her cold brown eyes clearly stating that she did not feel okay by being accused of being a horrible team player. Yes yes, maybe Violet was horrible at working with other people (considering the huge amount of partnered classes that she had attended and the fights she had gotten into). But that did not mean that she had to get the full blame on this. Not on her watch.

''You arsehole, I'm sure that you are worse at teaming up than me. And as you said, I suck at doing so.''

The boy's face formed into a snarl, his nostrils flaring into a display that made him appear animalistic, near-feral. His rage at the incredulity of the situation was only growing more and more as she continued in her misbegotten tirade. How dare she accuse him of cheating. He had undertaken a tactical foul for the good of the team, as per the instructions and game plan that the captain had okayed. There were set punishments if he were to be caught, and other players had soon followed suit in violating the rules. It was strategy, it wasn't cheating. And if it was cheating, why did it matter, why did she care? The team would have benefited from it, was that not more important than some childish moral question. He did not dignify her pointed insult with words, merely rising to his feet to match her. He was not about to give away his height advantage in this confrontation.

Besides, his next attack had clearly struck home, he could see the hurt in her eyes as he accused her of being a bad team player. For a moment, he felt bad, he truly did. Guilt threatened to spring a leak in the well of anger that had thus far fueled his tirade, but it was swiftly frozen over by the icy rage that had overtaken him. She had started this, there was no point feeling bad about it. Yet, he could not quieten the small voice in his head that lamented the fight, he had quite enjoyed the girl's attitude on the pitch. It was a shame that her anger and venom were not confined to opponents but to innocent victims, such as himself.

The accusation she threw back at him did not sting as much as her other barbs, for it was basically a retreading of his prior insult. His hyena-like smirk all but confirmed his thoughts in that matter.

"Just throwing my own insults back at me, hey?" He asked, the venomous mirth clear in his voice, "Well done."

He glared at her, daring not back down from the confrontation. Their impromptu argument and hasty standing had drawn more than a few surprised looks from around the hall, the other students evidently curious as to what had caused such a dispute between the two first years. Let them watch, Nicholas thought bitterly. He was too angry to think logically about the situation.

"At least I don't pretend to be something I'm not," He continued, "Bit of a tongue on you for such a prim and proper princess. What would mummy and daddy think of you going off on a commoner like that?" The insult was entirely a guess, he had no clue as to her home life. Still, she had been reading and appeared properly put together, that was usually the sign of the upper classes wasn't it? At least it was in novels.

"Now, tell me, is it the swearing or the fact you can't play in a team the reason you don't have any friends? Didn't exactly see anyone else clammering to sit with you before I showed up," Another guess, another jab.

Nicholas didn't care how sloppy his insults were, how many students had taken to looking at the unfurling scene. All that mattered was that he let his rage be heard.

Tagging @Violet Carrington
Stats: STA: 7 | EVA: 6 | STR: 8 | WIS: 6 | ARC: 4 | ACC: 4
Abilities: Foulplay

@Nicholas McCowan

Violet had to admit, she was running out of insults to throw at McCowan. The only snobby thing she could think about doing now was rolling her eyes and glaring at the Gryffindor, as she thought about something else to say. ''I wasn't insulting you McCowan, I was describing you. Everything you just said about me is a projection of yourself'''

Violet just sneered as Nicholas glared at her. ''Mummy and daddy would be PROUD of me, proud of me for standing up for myself to such a slug like you.''

Don't have friends. Damn that hit hard. Yes, Violet did not have any friends, and Nicholas reminded her of that was no fun at all. The Slytherin felt a lump in her throat but she quickly regained her coldness with a glare. ''I don't need friends. Besides, I haven't seen anyone waiting for you here either'' Violet made sure that her statement was true by looking around. ''See? I told you everything you said about me was a projection.'' Violet flipped her hair and scrunched her nose

''Ew...what is that smell! I think it comed from you. Disgusting slug'' Violet attempted to go further away from McCowan so that she could humiliate him but too many people were sitting on the bench for her to be able to move.

Violet rolled her eyes again and crossed her arms around her chest. ''It's not my fault that we didn't win, I was doing my best, and i was THE BEST in the team, but you ruined everything''

"Charming,” He spat the word with so much venom that it was remarkable he spouted no fangs. Still, he wasn’t entirely unaware of the fact that he was struggling to think of anything more biting to say.

“If I was projecting, I wouldn’t call you princess, would I?” He shot back, the jibe about his slugginess ignored for lack of a suitable comeback, “Unless you seem to think I’m royalty?” He gestured to his chest vaguely.

Rage, both burning hot and frigidly cold tore apart at his insides as the parts of him that wanted to back down to save his reputation fell eerily silent. This was a confrontation, pure and simple, and he was not going to let this thing best him. Not when she had so flagrantly and blatantly started the argument. She had wanted him to fight, well he was going to fight.

He grinned when his insult as to her lack of friends caught home, only for that smile to twist into a grimace when she turned it back on him. It was a low blow, one he’d levied at her, to be fair, but one that still sapped the strength from his soul. Yet, he wasn’t interested in letting her know how hard it’d hit. So he pivoted, doing his best to twist the grimace into a snarl, hopefully hiding the injury.

“You can’t keep relying on that cat-meloden projecting argument,” He shot, “It’s piss-poor. May as well say ‘I know you are but what am I?’”

And yet, that didn’t seem to be her only cause of action. For she did change tactics, accusing him of smelling bad, more than a few members of the faceless crowd reviewing him with scandalised eyes at her hysteric screeching. All he could offer in response was rolled eyes, a staple of the other girl’s repertoire, not that he knew as much.

“Christ defend me from idiots,” He snarled, “Get out of your own arse for 10 minutes. You, the best on the team? What’d you actually manage to accomplish, hey? At least I took out Ranvier, yeah?”

He crossed the gap, or at least attempted to, his goal to get up in her face, “I’m sure as hell glad we’re not in the same house. God help me if we were ever on the same team again, I don’t think I could handle the embarrassment of losing. Actually, scratch that, if we were on the same team, losing would be worth it if I got to see you cry.”

He mimed falling tears with his hands. Nicholas was angry, unreasonably so, and to make matters worse he wasn’t even aware of what had brought such rage to the forefront. It was as if the girl had known exactly how to flip his switch, sending his usual grumpy demeanour into a fiery rage.

“You snobby little shite. Bet the reason you’re awful at flying is your worried you’ll get a splinter if you hold the broom harder than a bloody well teacup.”

Tags: @Violet Carrington