Languages:
Portuguese (#147628) | English (#c2ffc3) | Spanish (#00d624)

“Here they are done, here they are paid.”
—Portuguese revenge proverb

Who was this girl to come out of nowhere, to bandage Manu's hands, to comfort her with kind words... to be so soft?

Manu wasn't used to soft. She was used to tough, to people who picked themselves up and kept going no matter their fatigue nor injury, who treated bruised and bloodied knuckles as badges of honour, who flared their nostrils and folded their lips into thin, pressed lines and glared dark looks in the pyramid corridors. She was used to competitive, to people who studied late into the night and wore their eye-bags with exhausted, resilient pride in the morning, who tried the same spell sixty times in a damn row because it wasn't quite perfect just yet, who might even lie or cheat to come out on top. She was used to dark and broody, to bright and cheerful, to rough around the edges and rough all throughout. But she was not used to soft.

Her own face tinged pink at Illowy's words. Partially out of embarrassment that someone was being so gentle to her, that worse, she was right about it. And partially ... well, Manu wasn't quite sure about the other part.

"Ah, I am fine," she insisted, pulling her knees upwards and hugging them to her chest, glancing away from Illowy. Maybe the girl wouldn't see the sheepish flush on her cheeks. She wasn't used to being wrong, either. "My cares for Boe Correa have long been lost."

Next it was Illowy's turn to blush, which in turn made Manu smile again, her own embarrassment forgotten. How lovely her new friend looked with a tinge of colour to her cheeks - tipo um, not that she didn't look lovely beforehand, too. She sounded now as though she were almost choking on her words, unwilling to spit them up, and again the rush of guilt was Manu's to feel. Had she made Illowy feel uncomfortable, somehow? Oh, merda shit, Illowy wasn't... like Boe, was she? Scared off by the simple prospect of Manu's blood not being one hundred percent pure-bred magical?

No, she cannot be, Manu assured herself. She carries around these bandages. Boe would have a seizure if he ever even touched one.

"They are useful, yes," Manu agreed, carefully watching Illowy's face out of the corner of her eye, so as to be able to garner any new reactions from the girl whilst also not being far too obvious that she was watching her.

Her new friend's remark about not getting caught was so unexpected, however, that Manu burst out in a brusque, hearty laugh - short, but still a laugh, before she reined herself in. Where had her composure gone? "Ha! I am sure that you do not," she chuckled, beginning to push herself up to a standing position. They had been sitting here for so long, and it would not take a police detective to come across a bloody wall and bandaged knuckles and juntar os pauzinhos figurative expression meaning "connect the dots", but literally "join the chopsticks". "To meet you in a dark alley is something I do not like. Would not like?" Fully on her feet now, Manu scrunched up her face in conjugation concentration. It had never been her strong suit. "Whatever it is."

She reached her now-healing hands down to Illowy, one side of her lips quirking up into another small smile. "I will call you when I am hurt, Illowy, but in the interim, we get up. Need help?" Manu offered. "I stay grateful for your help, but we should go, together."

Merda. She was bad at talking to... people like this in Portuguese, let alone in English. Why did the girl have to be so soft? It just made all of this - meeting her - so much harder.

@Illowy Magnard

Soft. Had it been said to Illowy's face, she'd have been stunned. No one saw her as soft. Perhaps the closest to such a descriptor would have been a 'goodie-goodie', but no one ever thought of her as soft. Then again, Manu still didn't know her. The late, sleepless nights spent guarding her Common Room like a self imposed sentry while she poured over her various points of research to try to stave off nightmares. The fire and shift in her expression when she took a hard hit during a dueling match, as though shaken to life before she stuck back harder. The constant war within herself between keeping control and throwing hell to the wind.

What an idea for someone to see in her that which she couldn't imagine within herself. Or at least think they saw it. Perhaps, ultimately, she was no different then the rest. What difference should that make to Illowy though? For someone like Manu to mistake her for something she wasn't, what should it matter? After all, she was just another student, from some far away school on the other side of the planet, basically a whole world away, that she likely would never see or hear from again after camp was over. Why should she care about such an opinion anyway?

Illowy was nearly startled when Manu burst out in a full and heart laugh. Had she said something funny? Had she embarrassed herself again and made herself a fool? Regardless of the flush in her cheeks over it, the Castelobruxo student's short laugh felt infectious, pulling a shy chuckle from the snake. Smoothing a bit of hair out of her face, she watched as her charge rose to her feet, teasing about not wanting to meet her in a dark alley. Little did the curly haired witch know there truly were quite a few that would unironically share that sentiment.

The girl hesitated a moment as the other offered out her hands to help her up next. Why in Godric's name did she feel so bloody awkward? She was never so horribly awkward like this. Where was that typical grace and poise she usually had no trouble utilizing, "I will make sure I have plenty of plasters the next time you need patched up," she assured teasingly, accepting the help but keeping aware to stand up carefully so not to further her embarrassment should her skirt betray her and accidently flash or something. The witch brushed herself off from any dirt or grass that might've been still clinging to her before picking up her bag.

"I stay grateful for your help, but we should go, together."

Together. Illowy willed her expression not to shift, begged her mind not to run away with itself or jump to conclusions for meaning. After all, Manu was still learning English, clearly it must've just been her trying to find the right words in a new language, "Right. Flee the scene of the crime." she joked weakly, gesturing to a random direction to start towards before returning her hand to the strap of her bag, her fingers fidgeting a bit, "And also um..." Courage. Courage, dear heart, "even if yer not hurt... y'know... ye, ye could still call on me." she could only concentrate on one thing or the other; continue to smooth out her Irish accent, or keep her voice steady from the nerves. Neither were a success, "I'm not hard t'reach. But, obviously only if ye wanted to."

Languages:
Portuguese (#147628) | English (#c2ffc3) | Spanish (#00d624)

“Here they are done, here they are paid.”
—Portuguese revenge proverb

When Illowy chuckled, it was not quite as hearty as Manu's laugh, but it was still a lovely sound. The way the corners of her pale blue eyes crinkled at the giggle, the curl of her lips over perfect teeth in just that right manner so as to be beautiful, the glint of her dark hair almost scarlet as it caught the light from the sun above them just right-

Caralho. Fuck.

It had been a very long time since Manu's heart had skipped a beat like this, since the palms of her hands had pinpricked hot with sweat, since her cheeks had grown equally warm. Since her eyes had been seemingly glued to someone, unable to let them go, lest they disappear, or worse, lest she forget their visage.

More interestingly, it had never been for another girl before. But there was a first time for everything - and Manu Macedo was from Rio de Janeiro, so she was about as intolerant as a potato when it came to who folks loved. That was to say, indifferent. Or perhaps that was not from her upbringing, but from her heart.

Either way, this was almost certainly a bad idea. But Manu was quite used to chasing bad ideas.

Clearing her throat and glancing away from Illowy for the briefest of moments to collect herself as she carefully tugged the Hogwarts student up from the ground with both hands. Again, Illowy's hands were cold as a corpse's in her own warm ones, but this time, Manu was hyper-aware of just how heated her hands and face had become, especially against this chill from the girl in front of her. Would Illowy think her strange? "Who is in need of the medical tent when I have you?" she blurted out, promptly turning a little bit more purple. Once Illowy was on her feet, Manu let go of her hands as if they had burned her, shaking her head vigorously as her new friend bent down to pick up her bag. To bring blood back to her brain, rather than her greedy heart. Why did it feel the need to hog all of that anyway, pumping twice as fast in her chest as it was? Perhaps now, with more of the life-giving liquid in her head and not her torso, she would be able to think through rash decisions and not babble out nonsense such as that.

She laughs one time and I am useless, Manu grumbled internally. Merda. Shit. I did not miss that.

Still, she listened carefully when Illowy, now ready to go, began to head in what seemed to be a random way and waxed something about fleeing the scene and how Manu could call on her even if not injured. Though she had become a bit more difficult for Manu to understand - what was that thicker tinge of an accent in her voice, now? - Illowy's words still caught the Brazilian by surprise. To call on her, even when I am not injured? It seems I have yet made a friend.

One who Manu wouldn't mind reaching out to in the slightest. After all, camp could only go for so long before she would return to Brazil, leaving her new mates behind.

Still, if there was one thing that Manu could uphold even when flustered, even when being pulled headlong into the trenches of the beginning of a queda crush, it was her confidence. She had stayed strong, sometimes cocky, even, in the face of danger before, and this was no different - one might even argue that this situation had higher stakes than a fight or a duel. Manu didn't let herself think about that, instead remarking as she wandered off by Illowy's side, "I have the entire month to get me into problems, and you can help me after them." After a moment, Manu cocked her head to the side, a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. "But beyond, perhaps you provide me with your mail address so that I can owl for help? Who know what type of trouble I find during school..."

Again, just for a second, Manu let herself imagine having a pen pal in Scotland for the year. Someone to write to when the Correas were being themselves, or when classes were hard, or when her knuckles smarted. Or just when she wanted someone to talk to. Manu was awfully lonely off in Brazil sometimes - she only really had a few close friends - but, to be honest, like any teenager, her beating heart was more of a motivator than friendship alone at the moment. What a time this had been, she realized as she and Illowy wandered off, continuing to chat.

Suddenly, her knuckles didn't hurt so much anymore, and neither did her heart.

End of thread!
@Illowy Magnard

Follow-up thread for those interested in following along: here!