Scrubbing the Owlery
It was 6:58pm. The sun had just gone down and the owlery was lit up with the lights that were on the limited wall space in the room. The owls were mostly nestled together, resting for the night. In a way, the students who were having their detention in this room were lucky, if the owls were restless, they would be flying all over and they would not be getting done what Maya had planned for them to do.This is a detention thread for Bloom Silverton and Corvus Dravere. This thread will be modded by Maya Galim. As guidelines, please obey the following:1. Your posts need to abide by the 200 word minimum.
2. You do not have to wait for a professor to reply, but do not godmod them.
3. You need a minimum of 3 posts before you're allowed to start new threads.
4. Until #3 is fulfilled, you are not allowed to start any threads, although you're welcome to reply to started ones, or any out of character ones.Please remember that you are not in trouble out of character; this is only in character.
Looking at her muggle watch, she saw that two minutes had gone by and the students were then arriving. Standing at the door, she let them into the room by moving to the side and stood up straight. Her red cloak hit the ground and the last thing Maya needed was to have it caress the owl dropping as she walked around. Maya pointed to the bucket filled with water and soap and two scrub brushes that were near the door.
"Welcome to your detention. You will find a large bucket with water and soap and two scrub brushes. Your task is to clean the floors of this owlery. You will scrub nonstop from now until I come back," she said, her Israeli accent thick. She took out two pairs of latex gloves from her coat pocket and tossed them on top of the scrubbing brushes. "You may proceed," she added, turning around to go. She then stopped and looked back around at the Slytherin.
"Mr. Dravere, please do enjoy the 'view'. I hear it's much better than the Restricted Area," she added, a small smile on her face. Maya had closed the door behind her and left the two to clean up on their own. Little did they know that she had taken a picture of the room to know whether or not they did work on it or not. It was up to them to complete the task and if they did not, Maya had to think of other consequences for them.
Stamina: 11 || Evasion: 7 || Strength: 7 || Wisdom: 20 || ArcPower: 15 || Accuracy: 10
Scrubbing the Owlery
Corvus wasn’t bothered by having to scrub the floors of a shit-stained owl roost. He’d been made to similar by his grandparents. The moment she smiled, though? His mind went from calm to hot, his nostrils flaring as his teenage blood turned molten and began to boil. He couldn’t help it. It simply was.
Muttering darkly to himself, he pulled the gloves on, dipping the brush in the water to begin scrubbing the floor. What left his mouth next was pure County Kerry - the words leaving his lips sounded like mush he was continuing to chew as he spoke, and the accent was so thick it’d make a Scotsman raise his brows.
But one didn’t need to be a genius to know it was likely the kind of hot-blooded invective only a teenager or a poorly adjusted adult could ever contrive. So while the brush worked over the floor and the caked on shit she thought would be punishment, the only punishment he saw was that damnable smirk and how he wanted little more than to strike it off her face.
She’d get her damn clean floor, and about seventeen nicknames she’d probably already gotten from other angry students.
Muttering darkly to himself, he pulled the gloves on, dipping the brush in the water to begin scrubbing the floor. What left his mouth next was pure County Kerry - the words leaving his lips sounded like mush he was continuing to chew as he spoke, and the accent was so thick it’d make a Scotsman raise his brows.
But one didn’t need to be a genius to know it was likely the kind of hot-blooded invective only a teenager or a poorly adjusted adult could ever contrive. So while the brush worked over the floor and the caked on shit she thought would be punishment, the only punishment he saw was that damnable smirk and how he wanted little more than to strike it off her face.
She’d get her damn clean floor, and about seventeen nicknames she’d probably already gotten from other angry students.
Scrubbing the Owlery
Bloom knew hands down what she was going to be doing when the professor had told them to meet her at the Owlery. The Owlery is one of the very few places that hardly gets cleaned. For the minute it gets clean, owls begin their droppings all over again. It was a place that Bloom thought, should have a magical cleaning regimen. But then again, if it had that, then there wouldn't be a detention such as this.
Looking around the room, there was a lot of work to be done. The main floor of the Owlery was nearly white when it should be the color of stone. She looked at Professor Galim with puppy dog eyes and with no result, was left with Corvus Dravere to clean up the mess.
Bloom grabbed the gloves that was handed to her and put them on instantly. She then took a bucket and a scrubber and hulled over her supplies to a nearby wall where she thought would be the best start. She did not want to go onto the floor. At least not yet. These were her only clothes and she could not afford more if they got stained by the owl feces.
Bloom looked over at Corvus and saw that he seemed a bit uptight. Realistically, this was her fault. Before beginning to scrub the walls, she turned her body towards him and cleared her throat gently. "I'm sorry...," she said, feeling a bit awkward. She wondered if he was to ever speak to her again. "I'll do most of the work," she said, thinking that it would be a fair trade for getting him in trouble.
Stamina - 10| Evasion - 11| Strength - 10| Wisdom - 11| ArcPower - 10 | Accuracy - 11
Scrubbing the Owlery
The owlery reminded him of the chicken coops at his grandparents. They were cleaned mostly as punishment, though he knew that it was important to at least attempt to keep it clean. Unhealthy animals were more common if you just left the stuff to fester and harden, but that didn't make the process any more palatable.
In truth, the lesson imparted by punishment like this depended on the person dishing it out. Grandpa had once done it to prove to him a point about futility; not getting ahead wasn't a sign you weren't doing something worthwhile. His grandmother had done the same just to show him that hard work could make you feel proud - and in truth, he had, once the coop was spotless.
But the next morning it was back to being ruined. Satisfaction was always fleeting.
He suspected this punishment had just been chosen because it was one of the worst available options. Sometimes that's all it came down to. Pick the worst, and hope they learn not to do it again. He imagined that, more often than not, the punished only learned to get caught by someone else.
Bloom speaking interrupted his angered thoughts, and that thick Kerry mash of words came out in response.
"Ahetsfynewutnahcoodasednah."
There was a sentence in there somewhere, probably.
In truth, the lesson imparted by punishment like this depended on the person dishing it out. Grandpa had once done it to prove to him a point about futility; not getting ahead wasn't a sign you weren't doing something worthwhile. His grandmother had done the same just to show him that hard work could make you feel proud - and in truth, he had, once the coop was spotless.
But the next morning it was back to being ruined. Satisfaction was always fleeting.
He suspected this punishment had just been chosen because it was one of the worst available options. Sometimes that's all it came down to. Pick the worst, and hope they learn not to do it again. He imagined that, more often than not, the punished only learned to get caught by someone else.
Bloom speaking interrupted his angered thoughts, and that thick Kerry mash of words came out in response.
"Ahetsfynewutnahcoodasednah."
There was a sentence in there somewhere, probably.
Scrubbing the Owlery
Bloom jumped up in her spot at his response. He was not yelling, but he also was not speaking English. If she could try and read him, she could tell that he was exceptionally angry. He had every right to. Even she was angry, but more or less disappointed in herself. She typically never got caught and the time that she did, it was with someone new. Someone who she could see herself hanging out with all the time.
Bloom, scrubbing the wall intensely, paused and walked over to where he was. She did a squat down to his level and looked at him, her side bangs in her eyes. Unfortunately, she was unable to move them away with her hands as they were unsanitary, so she tried to move them with the tilt of her head. "For one, I have no idea what you said. For another, I will understand if you don't ever want to talk to me again," she said, biting her lip, nervous at his decision. She then dipped her scrubber in his water pail to clean it off and made her way towards the nearest wall to him.
She began to scrub, over and over again. She felt as though it was not even getting clean. It was like a never-ending hallway, but with owl poop.
Stamina - 10| Evasion - 11| Strength - 10| Wisdom - 11| ArcPower - 10 | Accuracy - 11
Scrubbing the Owlery
Situated where he was, he shifted into a crouch, finding himself still taller than her like that. The tilt of her head, the downward cast of her eyes - it all spoke to her embarrassment. Shame, maybe? It was so hard to tell.
Sometimes, he wished he could read minds. Them he remembered people never stopped thinking. At the very least, her acknowledgement that she hadn't understood a word he said hadn't fallen on deaf ears. He couldn't blame her. He'd scarcely understood it as a wee lad himself.
"Sorry." He says, that familiar North Dublin lilt back in play. "I said it was fine, I could have easily said no." She didn't have to shoulder the blame herself. She hadn't exactly had to do a lot of convincing. There was no browbeating, or arm twisting. He'd simply said yes.
No, this wasn't her fault. It wasn't his fault either. They'd both nodded and agreed and now they had brushes in their hands and shit on their gloves.
"Hardly fair ta blame yerself." The left corner of his mouth briefly quirked upward. His expression had returned to one approaching calm, though his near-black eyes were decidedly hard. At the very least, he was calmer.
He'd almost forgotten she wouldn't have been able to understand him. "Ain't mad at the cleaning, or you - just the smug grin."
Sometimes, he wished he could read minds. Them he remembered people never stopped thinking. At the very least, her acknowledgement that she hadn't understood a word he said hadn't fallen on deaf ears. He couldn't blame her. He'd scarcely understood it as a wee lad himself.
"Sorry." He says, that familiar North Dublin lilt back in play. "I said it was fine, I could have easily said no." She didn't have to shoulder the blame herself. She hadn't exactly had to do a lot of convincing. There was no browbeating, or arm twisting. He'd simply said yes.
No, this wasn't her fault. It wasn't his fault either. They'd both nodded and agreed and now they had brushes in their hands and shit on their gloves.
"Hardly fair ta blame yerself." The left corner of his mouth briefly quirked upward. His expression had returned to one approaching calm, though his near-black eyes were decidedly hard. At the very least, he was calmer.
He'd almost forgotten she wouldn't have been able to understand him. "Ain't mad at the cleaning, or you - just the smug grin."
Scrubbing the Owlery
A small smirk was shown on her face. She was glad to hear that he was not angry with her and that he mentioned it was not her fault. Bloom felt a bit better hearing those words. She still, however, felt bad. Looking at the Slytherin on the ground, Bloom decided to join him. She knew that she would be kneeling in crap, but it was worth it.
There were a few students who enjoyed the company of Professor Galim, however, most did not like her. If anything, many feared her. Bloom was definitely one of the many students who feared the professor. She was mysterious and very to herself unlike the other professors who go out of their way to get to know their students. Bloom wondered what background Maya Galim had. What was her deal? If anything, why is she a professor of students if she seems to hate students? It seemed that Corvus was in the category of students who did not like her.
Bloom walked over to Corvus and knelt next to him. Her small smirk-like smile on her face. "I guess we just have to make the best of this situation, right?" she said, trying to find the bright side of their crappy detention. Bloom took her sponge and put it into the watery pail. She then scrubbed the word "Hi" clean on the floor, using all of her muscles. "See? Fun...," she added, laughing lightly.
Stamina - 10| Evasion - 11| Strength - 10| Wisdom - 11| ArcPower - 10 | Accuracy - 11
Scrubbing the Owlery
Make the best of it? He supposed. There wasn't any way to make scrubbing the toilet-floor any better besides not doing it, but when she decided that greeting him by cleaning a pair of letters into the grime, he didn't hide the brief snort of amusement it elicited. In a way, that simple act was really all it took. He wasn't afraid to admit it was cute.
He wasn't good with people. In this instance, he wasn't sure what to say in response. How did you respond to that? Did you laugh? Was he supposed to do something similar? He found himself at a loss. A racing mind didn't improve the situation any.
That being said, he had noticed just how much effort it'd taken to get that word cleaned into the unmentionables. Shaking his head, he began scrubbing again, a smirk lurking in the tightness at the corners of his mouth, though his lips remained in a thin line.
"Know how I know she doesn't want it actually cleaned?" He asks, raising a brow while looking to the eyes hidden behind the wayward bangs of the Ravenclaw. "We should be using a shovel to scrape this off, not brushes." They weren't going to get far, but he supposed the physical strain was the punishment.
"Grandpa always gave me a shovel and a hose. Scrape, rinse, repeat." It occurred to him she might not know what a hose was. Then again, not everyone had decided hiding among muggles was the best way to survive the Wizarding Wars.
He wasn't good with people. In this instance, he wasn't sure what to say in response. How did you respond to that? Did you laugh? Was he supposed to do something similar? He found himself at a loss. A racing mind didn't improve the situation any.
That being said, he had noticed just how much effort it'd taken to get that word cleaned into the unmentionables. Shaking his head, he began scrubbing again, a smirk lurking in the tightness at the corners of his mouth, though his lips remained in a thin line.
"Know how I know she doesn't want it actually cleaned?" He asks, raising a brow while looking to the eyes hidden behind the wayward bangs of the Ravenclaw. "We should be using a shovel to scrape this off, not brushes." They weren't going to get far, but he supposed the physical strain was the punishment.
"Grandpa always gave me a shovel and a hose. Scrape, rinse, repeat." It occurred to him she might not know what a hose was. Then again, not everyone had decided hiding among muggles was the best way to survive the Wizarding Wars.
Scrubbing the Owlery
There it was: the small smile that appeared on his face. That was all Bloom was looking for. She knew that what they were doing was not necessarily the best activity they can be doing together, but it was something. He did not reciprocate the wordy action that she had made, but it was enough to see a smile. Then again, she realized that she did just greet him with owl poop, which was kind of silly.
"No one is ever sure about what Professor Galim wants. She's always to herself," Bloom said, shrugging her shoulders while scrubbing. "There are some who hate her, some who love her and most who fear her," she added.
Bloom kept scrubbing away, wanting to at least make some sort of dent into the cleaning so she can be done with the detention and move on. It was also getting late as they had both started in the evening after dinner and their classes. "While that may get rid of the poop, we don't have shovels or the other thing. We have these scrub brushes and that's it," she said, a bit short as she now realized how much they have to clean before they are permitted to leave.
Scrubbing intently on one section, it looked as though it was getting cleaner and cleaner. When she turned to look at Corvus to show him that it was working, an owl had flew on by and made droppings in that same area. Bloom glared at the flying creature. It's droppings were inches away from Bloom and she could have had such a terrible and embarrassing moment.
"This is never-ending," she said, mainly to herself. "How are you doing over there?" she asked, trying to make more conversation to keep her awake.
Stamina - 10| Evasion - 11| Strength - 10| Wisdom - 11| ArcPower - 10 | Accuracy - 11
Scrubbing the Owlery
"I can't imagine there are many with good thoughts." He remarks wryly. Bloom had, herself, seemed apprehensive about her. It wasn't necessarily that she'd had her own bad experiences, but she'd made it clear - so far as he was concerned - that the reputation wasn't a favorable one. One person, or even several, could be wrong.
He'd learned to trust student thoughts about professors, however.
And she was right - it wouldn't be a punishment if you weren't given inadequate tools for the task. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. It was almost infuriating. Manual labor could be productive, but being deliberately unproductive about it was getting under his skin.
Then again, that was the point. Piss off the students. And, his thoughts brought him back to why the professor likely didn't have any friends. He smiled, briefly, at the thought.
"That's the point." He retorts. And it was. They could literally be here all night and not actually clean the whole place, despite the fact it wasn't particularly large in terms of floor space. "Alright." He adds, continuing onward. He wasn't keeping track of how much he cleaned. He didn't particularly care how much he cleaned.
This floor wasn't meant to be clean. They were just here to scrub bad ideas from their head. Ironic, then, that all it did was put more bad ones into his thoughts.
He'd learned to trust student thoughts about professors, however.
And she was right - it wouldn't be a punishment if you weren't given inadequate tools for the task. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. It was almost infuriating. Manual labor could be productive, but being deliberately unproductive about it was getting under his skin.
Then again, that was the point. Piss off the students. And, his thoughts brought him back to why the professor likely didn't have any friends. He smiled, briefly, at the thought.
"That's the point." He retorts. And it was. They could literally be here all night and not actually clean the whole place, despite the fact it wasn't particularly large in terms of floor space. "Alright." He adds, continuing onward. He wasn't keeping track of how much he cleaned. He didn't particularly care how much he cleaned.
This floor wasn't meant to be clean. They were just here to scrub bad ideas from their head. Ironic, then, that all it did was put more bad ones into his thoughts.