Independent Studies
Date: May 6th Backdated
Time: Afternoon, after classes
Time: Afternoon, after classes
@Sylvain Indarys
Ruka had nothing on his schedule on Wednesdays.
Having worked out a pretty good routine back in April for everything he needed to get done throughout his week, Ruka felt a lot more in control of his own time management, could easily incorporate more spontaneous events or one-off tasks without feeling too stressed about it. He hadn't been counting in a while either, which he assumed had a lot to do with feeling more in control of his day to day life.
It was a good feeling, overall, to be able to say that he wasn't just floating through every day without a single purpose; His schedule wasn't overly stuffed but still full enough to make him feel like he had a reason to get out of bed in the morning that wasn't just going to class and going back to bed again.
Except on Wednesdays.
He had no Fire Dance Practice scheduled on Wednesday, no homework time, no study session. Wednesdays were blank days, only taken up by meal times and classes, and therefor a pointless day in Ruka's opinion. He knew he was supposed to take the free time to do something else he enjoyed doing, or try to find new things to do, but it being the middle of the week he often did not find the energy to even think of anything to attempt involving himself in.
That was, until this particular Wednesday when a sudden realisation had hit him towards the end of his last class of the day; Exam season was right around the corner. It wasn't like he hadn't been aware of it before, had even mentioned it in his last letter to Mrs Burnett, but he hadn't quite realised it. Time flew by so fast and yet he had assumed, for whatever reason, that he still had so much left of it before he really needed to worry about preparing for his end of year exams.
He didn't, however. There were less than two months left before the end of the school year, and the only thing he had done in preparation so far was to consistently do all of his homework assignments and read through the occasional interesting book in the library.
That was not nearly enough to do well in his exams.
So in the spur of the moment, Ruka had decided to quickly get himself changed into a dark blue, shortsleeved T-Shirt, a pair of black jeans and his favourite - spotless - grey sneakers before making his way to a classroom somewhere on the third or second floor; He couldn't tell which floor exactly with how difficult the moving stair cases were making it for him to keep his sense of orientation in tact.
With most everyone out and about now that classes had finished for the day, it was no surprise to find the classroom completely empty, save for some chairs and desks, a blackboard and a statue of what seemed to be half man half bird. It was sort of creepy, but Ruka simply used it to hang up his messenger bag on one of its wings before turning his back to it and pulling his wand from his jeans pocket.
It was easy to find time and space to do some theoretical studies - You could read a book pretty much anywhere and at any time - but there was a practical part to all of their exams, and Ruka found that he had neglected that particular part of his studies a lot throughout the last month. He had rarely ever had to do it by himself anymore, so when he had found himself doing his best to live completely independently throughout April, it was simply something he had forgotten about.
No more, however.
A part of him had wanted to ask Jack to help him out; They could have practiced and prepared for their exams together. Maybe he could have, for a change, actually been of some help to the younger boy considering Ruka had already gone quite successfully through his own First Year exams, but he had decided to do this by himself, at least today, almost like some sort of proof that he had relearned his independence and wasn't going to let go of it anymore again.
"Alright then," he said to himself as he readied his wand and pointed it at the half bird half man's stone-feathered face. He took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders a couple of times as if to prepare himself for his action. "Obscuro!" he said loudly, enunciating the word as clearly as possible. For a moment nothing happened, but then a thick black blindfold had wrapped itself around the statue's head, covering its creepy eyes mercifully.
"Hell yeah," Ruka cheered for himself, twirling around himself like he would during a Fire Dance performance, before skipping over to the statue to remove the conjured blindfold again.
It took him two attempts before he realised that he was nowhere near tall enough to actually reach the statue's head, so he decided that a different approach was in order: Instead of uselessly jumping up and down in front of the stone beast, he circled it so he could hold onto the stony wings and hoist himself up. It didn't take long for him to climb up until he could easily sit down on the statue's shoulders and untie the blindfold with nimble fingers.
"Thanks for being my volunteer, stony," he said gratefully as he patted the stone head next to him gently.
He wanted to slide off the statue again to resume his spell practice, but just for a moment at least he got lost in the feeling of being higher up off the ground than he was used to. It was nice to see things from above and not feel like he was a mere mouse between a horde of elephants for a change.
Maybe he could have just practiced some spells from up here.
Either way, he stayed a little longer than necessary, wand pointed downward as he pondered what spell he could possibly practice by himself. There were plenty, probably, he just wasn't sure which ones exactly.
"Spongify," he called out eventually, directing the spell towards the door. He wanted to say that the spell worked perfectly, though it was difficult to tell from such a distance.
If it had, however, it would be a fun surprise for anybody walking through that door anytime soon, to find it hilariously bouncy against any type of touch.
Last edited by Ruka Burnett-Tân on 23 Jun 2020, 03:10, edited 1 time in total.
~Hell is other people~ - Jean Paul Sartre
Stamina: 7 ~ Evasion: 10 ~ Strength: 4 ~ Wisdom: 14 ~ Arcane Power: 6 ~ Accuracy: 9
Independent Studies
Hexcode= #507091
It didn't really matter which classroom he had chosen to study in, but of course the options were limited. With finals so close, the study hall, library, and pretty much every other available surface was covered with the parchment and ink of his fellow studious scholars, each of whom was prepping for a week of testing. It was an amazing and hilarious change of scenery, the transformation of Hogwarts the week before exams that is.
Normally, the less motivated students lackadaisically found themselves huddled in the great hall, or the courtyard, chatting about the various ins and outs of Hogwarts's various spots of drama. Sylvain wasn't the type to get embroiled in child politics, bullying or dating, he just wanted to do his homework and pass his classes. Some students shared this sentiment, and to his perceptions pretty much everyone seemed concerned with finals.
With his belongings safely stowed within his satchel, Sylvain anxiously made his way to the third or fourth floor classrooms. Panting as he traipsed up the moving stairways, a moment of peace was found in the labor of ambulating. Hopefully only a few students had the same idea as him, and he would be granted the opportunity to study in peace or at least of he couldn’t find tranquility.
He hoped that if he had study with another student, that the stranger in question was someone serious about passing Charms. He really had fallen quite behind in the research of them due to his fascination with potions. He was to blame for that. He'd spent far too much time focusing on the subject and neglected his other studies. Hadn’t his dream been to become an auror anyways? Perhaps his dreams could change.
As he extended his grasp for the door, he noticed the door itself had partially transformed into the incredibly fibrous skeletal structure of a sponge. “Most curious,” he muttered just under his breath. He contemplated between his options of opening the door or leaving it shut, but curiosity as to who had transfigured the door ultimately drove him to grab at its handle anyways. It was soft, and felt sponge-like as he had noticed before.
As he gripped the doorknob and twisted clockwise the knob collapsed partially in his hand, relenting under the puniest of his squeezes. The magical spring from the transfigured door caused the doorknob to rebound into shape after Sylvain released his hand. Pushing the door open with a comedic bounce and wiggle, Sylvain studied the door for just a moment longer before coming to terms with its new state of being. All he could muster was a shrug, while the corners of his mouth turned downwards in incredulity.
Turning to observe the classroom, he peered to see if anyone had hidden. Besides a single stranger hanging out, the room was calm and empty. He was glad that only one other student was here, although this other student rode atop a statue at the back of the classroom and held his wand pointed towards the door.
Immediately, Sylvain was put on edge, and became hyper aware of the boy. The stranger's tarnished copper colored hair provided a bit of contrast for his green eyes, and he was dressed in an immaculate ensemble of blues, blacks and greys, unlike Sylvain who had chosen to remain in his school robes per his usual level of comfort versus expression. Blues, blacks, and greys.
Sylvain made a request with a bit of a squeak before shuffling out of the wizard’s line of fire. "If you could, um, please lower your wand sir, I’m just here to study.”“A fellow student,” he assumed inside his brain cage. “Must’ve been alarmed when I open the door.”
The student looked like he was possibly older than him, at least from here. Though, honestly, how could he have been expected to tell the difference between twelve and thirteen? Hardly of much importance to him anyways. Sylvain roamed over to a nearby table and set his belongings down. He had brought his wand in case he wanted to practice a spot of charms, but the truth was that he had only memorized the very basics of their casting at this point, let alone any of the wand movements, incantations or stances. He thought for a moment that if the student was friendly he might ask him for help, but first he wanted to get himself settled in.
Should he decide to practice spells, his wand would have to willingly co-operate first. When Ollivander had told him the wand meant for Sylvain would be a stubborn one, the unpracticed child assumed it meant the wand wouldn’t give up. He never expected to have to overpower his wand’s will every time he wanted to cast something. It was exhausting. “Be inquisitive, be charismatic, and be bold.” These were all things the wand demanded from him. Things he wasn’t quite fully practiced in yet.
Tempted to pull out his notes on potions and go through them instead, Sylvain resolved to retrieve his Book of Spells for Charms class. The awkward intruder opened the pages of his book to the charms index. After a short moment of searching through the index, he found the word Spongify. Pondering the implications of the Latin root word spongia, Sylvain eagerly turned to the recorded page.
Sure enough the Softening charm appeared to be the spell that was incanted to cause the door's odd transfiguration, and his primary suspect was the only other student in the classroom with him. He peered back up at the stranger who had climbed atop the statue, a puzzled but friendly smirk crept across his chin as he raised an eyebrow curiously. For a moment, he grew bold.
"Excuse me, but did you cast the softening charm on that door there?"
@Ruka Tân
"Things are never so bad they can't be made worse." -Elim Garak
Independent Studies
@Sylvain Indarys
Sitting atop the statue's shoulders, Ruka didn't immediately notice the turn of the door handle, but he did see the comedic wobble of the spongy door itself as it opened to reveal the silhouette of a boy entering. The dim light and his position at the other end of the room made it difficult for Ruka to make out a definite expression on the boy's face but he assumed that it had to be some form of surprise; after all, even in Hogwarts most doors didn't just turn into bouncy sponge under your hands.
Chuckling lightly, Ruka completely forgot to lower his wand again, only realising it when the new arrival called him out on it, politely explaining that he was only here to study.
"Sir," Ruka repeated almost mockingly as he watched the other boy move around the room until he settled down at a table, setting all his belongings down on it and clearly getting ready to study. There was no further acknowledgment from the other boy for the moment, but Ruka kept his eyes on him for a while, tilting his head from side to side as he considered his next move. He had wanted to practice in peace, without anybody around to witness potential failures, but he also didn't want to just leave this classroom that he had occupied first just because some kid had decided to join him in it.
Was he supposed to say something?
It wasn't like he owned the classroom but, despite lacking a serious amount of social grace, it seemed like common curtesy to at least ask if the current occupant of a room minded the company.
Pondering the best way to make the other boy aware of the disturbance he was causing, Ruka almost flinched when the person in question suddenly addressed him instead. The question made him chuckle slightly as he tried to carefully slide off the statue just to end up jumping and landing back on the ground in a graceful twirl. The successful landing made him grin broadly, and he skipped across the room to poke his fingers into the spongy wood of the door, as if to make sure that it had actually worked.
"Are you asking me if I was the one who casted the spell, or if the Softening Charm was the spell I meant to cast on it?" he asked in return as he turned back to the boy by the table, a little smirk on his face. "Either way, the answer is Yes. Nobody else here who could have casted it, and the results make it pretty obvious which spell I used too, don't they?" He chuckled as he leaned back slightly against the door, just to let the bouncy texture push him forwards again.
It was a First Year Charm, he was aware of that much, but he was pretty proud of the results anyway; Safe for Defence Against the Dark Arts Ruka wasn't usually very good at spell casting, at least not with a large amount of practice, so to have succeeded so splendidly on his first attempt at casting the spell made him fill with a rush of pride.
He bowed in the direction of the other boy, a little ridiculously, as if he had just given him some sort of impressive performance that he expected applause for.
Curiously, Ruka stepped closer to the stranger's table, eyeing the book he had spread out in front of him.
Charms. Ruka's own personal weakness. It wasn't like he didn't like it; Quite on the contrary, he thought it to be one of the most entertaining classes in his schedule, always enjoyed the theory and history behind the various spells they learned, but for some reason the practical aspect of it was more difficult for him than in any other subject. He had grown a lot better ever since Jack had started tutoring him, was still continuing to get better with the help he was receiving, but it was far more work than he would have been happy to admit he was putting into this.
"Studying for exams?" he asked, eyebrows raised as he pulled a chair from one of the other desks and sat down opposite the other boy, propping his elbows up on his desk with a little smirk on his face. "Is that why you asked about the Softening Charm? Wanted to check you could recognise the effects?" He looked down to see the book open to the index page; Assumably the boy had gone through the spells to see if he could find the one he thought fit with what he had seen performed on the door. "You know, there's plenty better spots around the castle to read in; Why'd you come here of all places?"
~Hell is other people~ - Jean Paul Sartre
Stamina: 7 ~ Evasion: 10 ~ Strength: 4 ~ Wisdom: 14 ~ Arcane Power: 6 ~ Accuracy: 9
Independent Studies
Hexcode= #507091
The tilting of the stranger’s head as he contemplated how to address Sylvain was a fairly common sign of interest, but the length of time it took the other student to answer his question made him feel almost as if the boy was trying to see through his question.
"Are you asking me if I was the one who casted the spell, or if the Softening Charm was the spell I meant to cast on it? Either way, the answer is Yes. Nobody else here who could have casted it, and the results make it pretty obvious which spell I used too, don't they?"
“I-I w…” Sylvain began to mutter as the copper haired acrobat cut him off by answering his own hypothetical question. It felt as though he’d been taken for a fool, but there was truth in his observations nonetheless.
The boy bowed exuberantly in front of him. Sylvain wasn’t sure whether or not he needed to clap or seem impressed. After all, the boy had only cast a first year charm on the door, but perhaps he had never accomplished that before. It certainly wasn’t on *this* year’s syllabus as far as Sylvain knew, so it seemed unlikely that the boy was showing off. Instead, Sylvain took it as a friendly greeting.
Advancing towards Sylvain’s desk a bit faster than was comfortable for the shy child, the rascally acrobat seemed intent on peering over Sylvain and reading his book of spells. It made Sylvain visibly uncomfortable for the other boy to concentrate so much on him. He hoped his visible awkwardness was enough to explain how he felt, because he was too shocked to move or speak.
"Studying for exams?" the boy asked Sylvain. His eyebrows raised as he pulled a chair from one of the other desks and sat down opposite the other boy, propping his elbows up on his desk with a little smirk on his face. This invasion of personal space put Sylvain at even more unease, a room full of tables, and this was the one he’d chosen to sit at. Perhaps his stance was unclear. Sylvain put a few of his loosest possessions back away, and crossed his arms, making a face of consternation.
"Is that why you asked about the Softening Charm? Wanted to check you could recognize the effects?"
“Yes, I asked bec….” And again he was cut off by the spongifying miscreant. "You know, there's plenty better spots around the castle to read in; Why'd you come here of all places?"
“You’re right,” Sylvain said as tears began to well up in the corners of his eyes and his voice belied a touch of nervous frustration. He hastily scooped all of his belongings into his arms and stuffed them down so that papers peaked out from every corner of his robes. “I’m sure there are plenty of better spots, I’m not sure why I chose this one.”
Like a nervous streak of lightning, Sylvain raced for the door. Notes, books, messenger bag, and quills all in a disorderly manner from when he’d scooped them into his clutch nervously. As he approached the door he contemplated how overwhelmed the barrage of questions and invasion of his personal space had made him. He felt a twinge of shame for a moment at how he might have invaded the privacy of the other boy, but he only had a second to think about it before he collided with the sponginess of the door.
What came next could only be described as the upheaval of the Sylvain's own Miniature Library of Alexandria. Books bounced and flew across the room as parchment scattered to cover every surface within a few yards. A couple of miscellaneous marbles and various baubles from his bag scattered as well when the boy collided with the ground. To make matters worse, the fall broke the strap on his favorite messenger bag, spilling the contents of his next meal, a meal he’d painstakingly preserved for later, onto the floor topside first, so that the sauce spread about and mixed with the parchment from his studies with a satisfying yet upsetting splat.
After looking at the destruction and chaos the door and his own forgetfulness wrought upon him, the clumsy boy turned back as if to glower at the mischievous wizard sharing a room with him, but instead of yelling at him or getting frustrated, a visible stream of snot began to exude as two wells of soft tears puffed up his eyes and cheeks. He’d sure made a blunder, and managed to embarrass himself in front of someone he didn’t know. Instead of speaking to the boy, Sylvain turned his weepy eyes away and instead began gathering up the bits and pieces that’d fallen away.
After enough was collected for Sylvain to gather some pride, the sniveling klutz answered the boy’s question, and offered his own, “I came here because everyone is studying everywhere and I thought that the space would open for us to use. Why’d you come here?” After asking, he unceremoniously wiped his snot from his face with his robed sleeves.
@Ruka Tân
"Things are never so bad they can't be made worse." -Elim Garak
Independent Studies
@Sylvain Indarys
There was a certain wave of discomfort coming off the boy who had dared to intrude in Ruka's current sanctuary, and a part of him was almost glad. Maybe that meant he was going to realise that he was currently occupying the Gryffindor's study space. Had he not realised that there was some spell casting going on in here, just by touching the spongy door? Did he not know how dangerous it could possibly be for him should Ruka misdirect and fail one of the spells he wanted to practice?
Whatever was going through the other boy's head, Ruka could tell that the whole situation seemed somehow overwhelming to him, like Ruka's onslaught of questions and close proximity was simply too much to handle. It didn't exactly come as a surprise when the boy gathered his belongings and got up, but the speed with which he raced for the door almost made Ruka laugh out loud.
While he knew he wasn't exactly a people person most of the time, he didn't think he'd ever actually had someone running from him. No, quite on the contrary, usually people insisted on bothering him long after he'd made it clear that he didn't have any interest in their company. "Uh," he just hummed as he watched the boy heading for the door, and then, like in slow motion, he watched as the spongified door seemed to not want to be part of this dramatic exit.
A laugh did escape Ruka this time as he watched the boy's books tumbling to the ground, followed by the boy himself. The destruction of the bag strap came with even more stuff colliding with the cold floor, parchment and marbles and ink and food of all things, as if it wasn't enough that Hogwarts offered its students meals three times a day.
Ruka wanted to make a joke, say something teasing about the mess all around the boy, but his smile vanished almost instantly when he realised something he didn't usually have to deal with, didn't need to deal with since Jack had broken down in front of him back on April Fool's Day, and he couldn't say he'd handled that particularly well either; The boy was crying.
There were tears and snot, puffy eyes, trembling lips, the whole lot, and Ruka immediately felt put out of his comfort zone. He was no good at this; At people in general, but even less so at crying people. This wasn't one of his strengths, wasn't something he was used to. He remembered Jack approaching a broken down Selim with confident ease, saying all the right words in just the right tone of voice. He remembered trying to mimic just that back when they had found Willow breaking down outside Opeila's birthday party, remembered Flash crying next to him during Willow and Alan's birthday party. All of those instances were supposed to have prepared him for a minor situation like this, and yet he found himself at a loss of what to do.
He was about to say something, had just stood up to approach the boy on the floor, but before he could start blabbering unintelligibly, he'd been asked a question that seemed to come out of nowhere, as if picking up a conversation while pretending like everything else in between had never happened.
"Practicing some spell casting," he answered with a little shrug as he moved a little closer, wand at the ready as he tried to decide which mess to take care of first. "I'm pretty good at theory. Not so good at execution." He hummed thoughtfully as he reconsidered that statement. "Used to be, at least. I've worked on it a lot, now I just don't want to fall behind again." He grinned lightly as he flicked his wand in the direction of the boy's bag.
"Reparo," he chanted easily, watching in awe as the strap seemed to repair itself seamlessly. A surge of pride filled him almost immediately at the success. All the charms tutoring Jack had given him had clearly paid off, and so had his own practice, not matter how little of it he had done throughout April.
Focusing on the next problem at hand, Ruka pointed his wand at the mess of food and ink on the ground, flicking his wrist expertly. "Scourgify," he said in a sing-sung kind of voice, as if this was nothing but a vaguely entertaining game to him. At least this gave him a way of practicing some spells he didn't usually get to use that much, so maybe he should actually be grateful to the boy. He watched, almost sort of impressed with himself, as he floor got wiped clean of any ink and sauce, though he felt quite disappointed by the waste of perfectly good food that had now vanished into the depths of wherever that cleaning spell took the dirt it got rid of.
"Last but not least," he said brightly as he did a small twirl as if following one of his dance routines. "Pack!" He laughed brightly as the boy's scattered belongings lifted themselves off the ground to neatly stash away in the newly repaired messenger bag like they had always been there.
"There we go, like nothing happened," Ruka said, tucking his wand away for the moment to instead extend his hand in an offer to help the other boy off the ground. "Though, you should probably wipe your face. Snot and tears is not a good look on you. Or anybody, for that matter, really."
~Hell is other people~ - Jean Paul Sartre
Stamina: 7 ~ Evasion: 10 ~ Strength: 4 ~ Wisdom: 14 ~ Arcane Power: 6 ~ Accuracy: 9
Independent Studies
Hexcode= #507091
As overwhelming as the whole situation was at first, the hilarity of his disastrous spill began to affect him in a positive manner. As often as he found himself swept away by sadness or frustration, Sylvain couldn’t help but see how funny a memory this would be in the long run. He didn’t have time to stay upset for long; he needed to lift himself from the situation.
He wasn’t sure exactly how much the other boy had caught, but he had to imagine the entirety of his spill was seared into the forefront of the boy’s mind as a cacophonous scene of scholarly diffusion. This was an embarrassment for him to carry silently forever. Sylvain hoped the boy wouldn’t tell others about his embarrassing accident. Not that it would matter much; he just didn’t want to be gain a reputation around Hogwarts as being a klutz. He was still learning how to control himself after all.
Syl didn’t begrudge the boy his escaping laugh as he had fell to the ground earlier. It was definitely not an ordinary sight to see one so disheveled by a spell that had seemingly few ill effects. Sylvain lamented that he likely would have laughed if the situation were reversed. Looking at the situation a little more closely, Sylvain let loose a frustration relieving chuckle as he closed his eyes and shook his head.
Sylvain was thankful the boy didn’t tease him throughout all of his sniffling. Few things upset him so much as being made fun of, and his patience for the day had already worn thin with finals pressuring him to perform. The strength of his emotions was something he’d been learning to live with, and becoming a young man was just as difficult for him as learning to become a wizard.
"Practicing some spell casting," the boy answered him with a shrug as he directed his wand back and forth between Sylvain and the mess on the floor. It wasn’t clear if the boy was contemplating casting a spell on Sylvain or directing him to pick his stuff up. Soon enough he had his answer.
Sylvain was thankful that the onlooker had gone along with his question and pretended like nothing had just happened. It was embarrassing enough to be cleaning up his mess after making such a dramatic scene. The last thing he needed was more ammunition against his self. He certain the boy had plenty of mean thoughts, but tried to focus on the kindness of his flexibility.
Sylvain looked on as the boy successfully cast Reparo on his satchel. It was an act of kindness from him to repair Sylvain’s bag for sure and for the seeming lack of confidence in his own spellcasting capabilities, the rascal sure seemed to know plenty of useful magic that he could cast it just fine. If this was coming from someone who knew more about spell theory, he couldn’t wait to see what else the boy could teach him.
"Thank you,” He said with a slight nod of appreciation as Ruka fixed his bag. He was genuinely thankful for the student’s kindness. Sylvain could have done it himself, but he had always thought it was nice when someone did something for somebody else. He found it especially friendly that they had gone out of their way to do so.
After what appeared to be a well-earned grin in delight at his own accomplished casting of reparo, Sylvain watched the other boy cast the Scourgify spell, otherwise known as the cleaning charm. This spell was incredibly helpful as it removed the mess that sprawled out in an impact zone surrounding the doorway. Cleaning it all up was comparably as spectacular as making the mess.
“Last but not least, Pack!”
Sylvain looked on in amazement as his belongings stowed themselves in his bag in the orderly fashion he’d organized earlier that morning. The now hungry student mourned the loss of his packed dinner, but was honestly impressed by the other wizard’s use of charm’s magic to turn around his predicament; Sylvain simply looked upon him in astonishment, his mouth agape and his eyes wide. Eyes filled with a bit of awe and wonder.
“Well, not exactly as before.” Sylvain stood himself up and extended a snotty hand to shake to the boy before retracting it in disgust and apologizing. “I apologize for my unwarranted intrusion. M’name’s Sylvain.” Sylvain understood now that he’d wandered into an unsafe situation, and the boy hadn’t had the time to explain it to him. Sometimes, it took a minute to comprehend he was in danger before becoming overwhelmed. His flight had developed as a sort of natural defense mechanism. He dusted off his knees and rump.
“I’m honestly really impressed by your mastery of the cleaning charm. I understand if you need to say no, but would you be able to give me advice on how to master Scourgify? It’s one of the spells I’m having trouble with and it seems like you could teach me a lot, but only if I'm not intruding on your practice.”
@Ruka Tân
"Things are never so bad they can't be made worse." -Elim Garak
Independent Studies
@Sylvain Indarys
As quickly as the other boy had started crying he also seemed to be able to calm himself down again, even releasing a small chuckle that took Ruka by surprise. There was something about that inconsistency of emotion that resonated with him, made him take a breath as he compared it to his own sudden outbursts of anger and frustration before masking them up with smiles and laughter again. He wasn't quite sure if that was the method this boy was using as well or if he was genuinely able to snap himself out of his tearful state this quickly.
Either way it was sort of impressive, eliciting a surprised raise of his eyebrows from Ruka as he watched the boy take his bag, seemingly grateful for having his mess fixed without needing to ask. It was even enough for him to ignore the fact that the boy ignored his outstretched hand to instead get himself up on his feet, only showing signs of wanting to shake hands before retracting the gesture, probably for the sake of hygiene, considering that his hand was covered in tears and snot. Ruka had arguably touched worse things in his life, didn't feel particularly disgusted by that, but he appreciated the thought anyway, simply giving a nod in acknowledgment as Sylvain introduced himself.
"Ruka," he answered, gesturing towards himself to explain that he was giving his name. It wasn't a common one so he usually felt the need to explain that it was what he was called and not just a random word he liked to use for no apparent reason. "No need for apologies. I believe you've been punished enough for it already." He stifled a laugh behind his hand, showing off the scars on the back of it without much care for the other boy's thoughts. The short sleeved shirt did nothing to hide the impressive collection of burns and scars all over his arms anyway, so there was no use trying to hide them.
Sighing quietly to himself at Sylvain's next words, Ruka walked himself backwards until he was able to hoist himself up to sit on one of the desks in the room, placing his feet on top of the chair positioned by its side. "It's mostly lots of practice," he said wearily, placing his wand on the surface next to him, keeping a hand atop to stop it from rolling away. "I'm getting some tutoring myself." A fond smile tugged at his lips as he spoke the words as if being tutored was some of his favourite time of the week. Frankly, it was, so his expression didn't lie.
His face was usually just as honest as his words.
"But we can practice together, if you want." He chuckled lightly as he pushed the chair out towards Sylvain with his feet as if inviting him to sit down. "It's really all just a matter of the mind." At least that was what Ruka had understood it to be. Concentration, focus, all that stuff he didn't feel he had a lot of control of. It almost made him want to start tapping his fingers again, but just seeing how much progress he had made over the past few months was enough to suppress that urge. "And frankly my mind's not all that," he tapped two fingers against his temple as if to indicate all the issues he kept locked away in there.
With a small smile on his face, Ruka leaned back slightly, letting his gaze drift around the room. "We'd need to make another mess for Scourgify," he pointed out, thoughtfully resting the tip of his pointer finger against his bottom lip. "Unless you'd like to try to wash out my mouth but I'd hate to think what could happen if you did something wrong while casting it at me." He pulled a vaguely disturbed face at all the possible outcomes of that. "And I'd rather not have the taste of soap in my mouth for the next week. Think of how horrid that would make drinking Orange Juice for breakfast."
~Hell is other people~ - Jean Paul Sartre
Stamina: 7 ~ Evasion: 10 ~ Strength: 4 ~ Wisdom: 14 ~ Arcane Power: 6 ~ Accuracy: 9
Independent Studies
Hexcode= #507091
“Ruka.”
Names were a powerful thing, or to Sylvain they were at least. He searched his memory for a similar name, but he couldn’t recall having heard it before. This rascal certainly was shaping up to be quite different indeed. Curiously, Sylvain eyeballed the scars, which up until now he’d neglected to notice. Still, being so close made them impossible to ignore. He could tell that some of the marks were burns, while other scars obviated a sort of reckless past. Sylvain considered himself a risk-taker as well, but he preferred the safer kinds of risks, like staying up late to cram the night before a big test, or taking the last slice of pizza and the last soda at the same time.
The reserved scholarly boy had previously been told it was rude to point out something about a person’s appearance that they couldn’t fix in five minutes or less, a trait he’d often been reprimanded for, and that never seemed to leave him. He managed not to ask about Ruka's scars, but at some point, he would eventually be forced to sate his own curiosity. Countless times, he’d pointed out the obvious and hurt the feelings of others unwittingly, and just as many times he’d missed what should have been more obvious. Life really was a mystery to him, but it didn’t seem so bad in the moment when Ruka had hidden his laughter. One corner of Syl's mouth perked up in the form of a smirk, a look the boy usually reserved for being a smart-ass. This time his smirk was a genuinely goofy smile. The wayward smile was an expression of self-loathing and playfulness for his earlier outburst of emotion.
"I'm getting some tutoring myself."
These words were incredibly intriguing to Sylvain. Immediately his mind became distracted with a dozen questions. Who was tutoring him? Was this tutoring free? Was there a sign up that the wistful mage had missed, or an errand that had partnered student’s up for homework? No, it was infinitely more likely that Ruka actually had friends willing to help him. Friends were something Sylvain had a distinct lack of, but he hadn't let it stop him from having a good time yet. Realizing his daydreaming had once again taken a hold of him, the boy shook his head slightly managing to reign his attention back into the empty classroom. “I’d definitely be willing to practice with you for as long as you can stand to teach me.” His words came out very clearly, he was searching for people to help improve his life. “I have a distinct lack of people to practice charms with, so if you’re serious I’ll take you up on it.”
The strength of Sylvain’s mind was never in question, or at least, it was never a mystery to himself. What had been difficult for him so far was his wand’s unwillingness to cooperate with his commands. “Ollivander warned me that my wand would be stubborn,” the shy child whispered as though he expected to be set aflame by his own casting implement. “What nobody has shown me yet is how to cast confidently, I guess I've got to learn that on my own.” Wincing at his own words, Sylvain raised a snotty sleeve to scratch the back of his head as he closed his eyes and grimaced. As Ruka went on to inform him of the need to make another mess so that he could continue practicing, Sylvain began to look around the classroom for something to help make a mess with.
Sylvain held his hand over his mouth to suppress his laughter as Ruka joked about drinking orange juice with a miscast scouring charm. The way Ruka held his fingers to his mouth made the oppression of his laughter impossible, and Sylvain began chortling, his laughter the loudest it had been since leaving for Hogwarts. After his chortling died down, a worrisome thought crossed his mind, he thought about Flash, and how his humor had made Flash feel worse rather than lift his spirits. Ever education minded, Sylvain decided on learning all about Ruka’s sense of humor. Maybe the rascally boy would help relax some of the diligent stuffiness Sylvain was known for. Hopefully Ruka’s cavalier nature might at least teach him how to tell a joke without being stared at awkwardly.
He pointed at the cobwebs that littered the corners of the abandoned classroom. If they were going to be cleaning things up, they might as well actually improve something. “What about those, will Scourgify work on spider webs?”
@Ruka Tân
"Things are never so bad they can't be made worse." -Elim Garak
Independent Studies
@Sylvain Indarys
There was no real reaction to Ruka giving his name, so he figured that Sylvain had understood what it was. Or if he hadn't he was possibly too shy or afraid to ask, which was just as well too. Questions that weren't posed didn't need to be answered and that was one of Ruka's favourite types of conversations; The ones where nothing needed to be said. Instead it gave way for action, which prompted Ruka to get off the table he had seated himself on, wand grabbed firmly in his left hand as he patted himself down as if to remove some dust from his clothing.
A useless action really; His clothes were still good as new and he was taking maybe even a little too much care of them. Couldn't help it, really. There was something about owning new things that made him feel desperate to keep them in as good a condition as he was possibly able to. His necklace, his shoes, his T-Shirts and trousers, they all looked like he had only just recently taken them out of their packaging. Patting himself down did nothing, really, except maybe give the impression that he was ready to move on from conversation to actually do something instead.
"It's easier to practice in two anyway," he pointed out with a smile. After all, how were you supposed to practice something like the Tickling Charm without someone to use it on? Ruka was certainly not willing to use it on himself. There was always a risk of something going wrong, and if it did, who was going to make sure to reverse the effects? No, it was far more convenient to have another person there who was going to willingly be a target.
Sylvain's words about his wand being stubborn made Ruka tilt his head to the side curiously. Wands tended to have their own sort of personality - His own was very sensitive to his emotions, would emit sparks whenever the depths or Ruka's being were stirred up by a whirlwind of feelings he didn't know how to deal with, would buzz nervously when his own anxieties flared up. It was a good, reliable thing, but did absolutely nothing to counter act the mess in Ruka's own head. Maybe that was a reason for why he needed so much extra practice on spell casting. He hadn't considered it before.
Still, saying Sylvain's wand was stubborn and therefor causing the other boy troubles with spell casting was just another way of saying that Sylvain himself wasn't stubborn enough, lacking in confidence that would convince his wand that he knew what he was doing. It wasn't really something that could be taught, Sylvain was right about that, but rather something that would come with sufficient practice and rising success.
"Do you trust yourself when you cast a spell?" Ruka asked curiously, vague interest sparking his eyes into a lighter shade of green. "When you let your wand know what to do, do you feel confident that you'll succeed?" If not, then maybe that was the root of the problem. Negative auto-suggestion was the downfall of any task one was trying to tackle, and it was no different with magic. If you believe you are going to fail from the start, you most likely will. Ruka didn't think much of that; Life on the street had taught him that you always needed to expect success because if you expected failure you may as well be embracing death.
School work wasn't quite as intense, of course, but the principle remained the same.
Joining the other boy in looking for more messes to clean up, Ruka was taken by surprise at the sound of laughter ringing through the room, filling the atmosphere with an unexpected warmth. He hadn't exactly expected his words to have such an effect on the other boy, weren't really meant to be some hilarious joke, but it made the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a little smile anyway. Ruka had always liked unashamed laughter, had always found it to be one of the purest, most honest forms of self-expression.
This is what I take amusement from was an admission Ruka thought to tell a lot about someone's personality. The things someone laughed about the most unabashedly were what defined a big part of their essence.
"That should work," he said with a little nod as Sylvain pointed out the cob webs cluttering up corners and little crevices in bookshelves. "Best if you just show me how you cast the spell first so I can see where you might have problems. That sound good to you?"
~Hell is other people~ - Jean Paul Sartre
Stamina: 7 ~ Evasion: 10 ~ Strength: 4 ~ Wisdom: 14 ~ Arcane Power: 6 ~ Accuracy: 9
Independent Studies
Hexcode= #507091
"Do you trust yourself when you cast a spell?" The copper haired boy said almost seeming interested in Sylvain's problems. "When you let your wand know what to do, do you feel confident that you'll succeed?"
Sylvain tightened his lips, and closed his eyes as he shook his head no. It appeared as if he were ashamed with his own lack of confidence. Ruka had gotten right to the inflamed nerve causing the issue, but this wasn't the kind of nerve someone fixed on their own. Continued reassurance from friends and instructors, positive experiences with magic and charms, as well as the practiced wisdom that came with time were all things Sylvain needed to be confident. Things the wizard needed time to learn.
"Best if you just show me how you cast the spell first so I can see where you might have problems. That sound good to you?"
Nervously, the lad's expression faded from sadness to anxiety. Silently nodding in agreement, Sylvain rolled his robe sleeves up while he retrieved his wand from his belt and held it aloft. Beside the obviously awkward lankiness of his limbs, which the boy clearly had just begun learning to wrangle under control, the mage's posture was disastrous. The entirety of his attention was placed solely upon the wand itself. It was not hard to tell that the wand drove the boy to some quantity of fear, as pearls of sweat collected upon his brow threatening to fall into his eyes.
Taking a deep breath followed by a gulp, the young mage started by motioning his wand correctly. Sylvain began to incant the scouring charm, but only as he did so the wand became covered in a brilliant sheen of prismatic ichor. Backfiring, spectacularly, the lad's mouth surged with soap as the failed charm produced by his wand hit him with the exact effect Sylvain had feared most. Whatever laughter filled the room before was gone, as the suddenly muffled lad's face was visibly saddened. The wistful scholar drooped into a more melancholic form, the corners of his mouth oozing soap at a phenomenal rate.
He did not cry, but instead looked forlornly at Ruka, prepared to absorb whatever disappointment his acquaintance had. "Sho," he said as bubbles formed on his lips and from his nose. "Fwat do you sink I should do?"
@
"Things are never so bad they can't be made worse." -Elim Garak