12 Mar 2021, 01:23
Projecting Outward
January 12th, 5:30 p.m.
@Rose Moon
One week. It had been one week since they'd come back from Christmas break and Gryffindor, one of her closest friends included, had been blown off the rails, attacked on the train. A little more than that since the accident, since her brother had gone into a coma. So far, she felt like she was doing alright. Keeping herself busy so she didn't have time to think about it wasn't necessarily going to fix anything, but she could function normally, which was her priority right now.
So why was today any different? She'd felt it from the moment she'd woken up, this exhaustion. An inability to bring herself to care. For how hard she was trying to present a normal front, to make it seem like she was just the same as always, a close look at her made it clear Bridget Collins was not quite her usual self. Her robes were slightly rumpled, the result of a lack of motivation the night before to do the simple task of laying them down nicely, and she couldn't be bothered to brush out her hair, instead simply pulling it back in a high ponytail.
Looking worse than usual was just the tip of the iceberg. The real storm was, at least for the time being, internal. Distracting herself wasn't working, thoughts of her brother sneaking in, and she kept losing focus during class. She had the feeling she was going to have to reteach the material to herself later. Lunch came, she didn't go. There was a pretty big difference between sitting quietly in class and the loud, sociable atmosphere of the Great Hall. That sounded like too much. She wasn't particularly hungry and she already felt just... overwhelmed. Or something. Kind of like she would lose it if she had to talk to anyone and keep up an act of being fine. Like she was either going to scream or break down in tears, neither of which she was remotely interested in doing, especially in public.
Frankly, she didn't know what to do with the feelings. The stress of the past week had already been a lot but she'd been able to manage that, sort of. This was different. What would even help? Crying seemed to be a decent release, except she hated crying and wasn't about to do it now with her next class right around the corner. Seriously, she had classmates who'd actually lost people they cared about. Katrina had literally been orphaned. Couldn't she save the freaking out for when something bad really happened?
Somehow, she pulled herself together and made it through the rest of her classes. Then it was on to the most secluded of the library she could find to do her homework, something that wasn't looking particularly appealing with her spotty focus during the lectures. At least there was no duelling practice tonight. With her current concentration, she probably would've ended up backfiring on herself and that wasn't really something she would've been able to mentally handle.
The urge to do something embarrassing like cry had transformed into frustration. Frustration at her History of Magic homework, frustration at herself for not keeping it together. There was also a part of her that was mad at Matthew for getting in that stupid accident in the first place, for making her so worried all the time. It wasn't his fault, she knew that. She just really wanted this whole thing to be over and her mess of emotions had become anger seeking any target it could.
It was arguably a poorly written piece of homework, but it was done. That was more than could be said for the weird state she'd been in for a week or so after the spider attack. Letting her grades plummet like they had then wasn't an option. Honestly, was there a worse insult to her brother than failing school? Shoving her things in her bookbag a little more forcibly than she needed to, she hurried out of the library. To where? She didn't know yet. Actually, maybe it would be worth getting in some individual duelling practice today. Potential backfires aside, beating up a dummy sounded weirdly appealing.
She wasn't looking where she was going. The third year was only vaguely aware of her surroundings--she didn't have to pay much attention, she'd walked this corridor hundreds of times--her mind elsewhere, picturing spells slamming into the practice dummies. Thus, there was an argument to be made that what happened next was her fault. One minute she was striding down the corridor and the next her thoughts were brutally ripped back to the present as her foot caught and she was falling. Hands came out in front of her to brace herself, and though normally quite agile, she couldn't stop the downward motion.
It hurt. She'd fallen on stone, of course it hurt. The impact shot through her hands, her knees. Bruises were in her future. It wasn't the pain she focused on, though; no, that was already fading to a dull ache. Her mind went straight to the cause and in an instant, a conclusion was reached: someone had tripped her. Ordinarily, she would've realized that wasn't necessarily the case, would have given the person the benefit of the doubt and figured it wasn't a big deal anyway. But today, her pent-up emotions, simmering all day and already threatening to burst, directed to the culprit. She was back on her feet, turning around. Her vision hadn't even focused enough to identify who it was, the words were already tumbling out, her tone accusatory. "What the heck!"
Phyllis Stanwood (iNPC) • Aislin Darragh (2nd gen) • Alejandros Espinosa (2nd gen iNPC)
16 Mar 2021, 16:21
Projecting Outward
Today Rose was just done.
She had skipped class for the first time ever today. She really really hadn't meant to- she had tried to go to class, but had ended up going to the bathroom and spacing out, then forgetting where she was even supposed to be. Once she had gotten out of the bathroom, she then proceeded to go to the wrong class, which rose all kinds of awkward between her and the people in the class that were not her classmates at that time of day. They weren't even in her year. The class that was not the right class happened to be on the exact other side of the school from the class she was supposed to be in. Then! Then she got lost in the school that she had been going to for a year and a half now, and the moment that she found where she was and booked it to the class she should have been in all period, which resulted in a sprained ankle from her clumsy running, it was time for the next class. It was definitely an ordeal.
Rose had been able to make it to her following class, the one after the one she skipped, but she couldn't believe that she had skipped a class- that she had forgotten about a class altogether. Now that it was the end of the day, not only was her ankle still hurting from where she had sprained it, but she was feeling more tired and miserable than she had been all week. She had beat herself up about it the rest of the day, and now she had just spiraled right to the bottom of the pit she had dug for herself. She just hadn't been thinking all day.
Well, she had been thinking. Just not about what she was supposed to be thinking about. Schoolwork, homework, classes. Friends and plans in the future. Happy things. Normal things for second years to think about. Not her mom getting engaged and Rose finding out after her hiding it from her for months. Not her fight with her mother in which she had told her mother she wasn't good enough and her best wasn't good enough. Not her little sister's sanity about not seeing her own mother for days on end because the woman was out on some kind of date with her fiance. Those things weren't normal. That was the one thing Rose knew. But she was doubting everything else. Everything she had said and thought, and everything her mother had ever done for her. She was furious with her, yes. Rose was determined to be right, but deep down inside, even she didn't know that.
So Rose was just done today. She had snapped at two first years who had been fighting in the courtyard, and had even threatened them. At least it was effective, though- she got them out of the courtyard and rid her ears of their insufferable bickering. She did feel bad, though. It was a weird place to be- wanting everyone who bothered her to suffer exponentially, but also feeling bad and knowing that she was feeling miserable and could stop acting like she was at any second.
She hadn't wanted to go to dinner after class, but apparently everyone else wanted to go to the Great Hall. Must be nice having an appetite. Or just somewhere in general- she wasn't sure of the specifics of the migrating people. She didn't want to go against the crowd moving that way, and she didn't want to walk in the group of people, so she stood to the side of the corridor, glowering at them. Her ankle was still cramping and hurt whenever she moved it, so she leaned against the side of the corridor and let the one foot forward, out farther into the hall, because she didn't want to put any pressure on it.
The redhead looked down at her fingers, fidgeting with her nails and her fingers while letting her thoughts chip away at her image of herself. That's when pain laced up her ankle. Rose gasped, drawing it back. "What-" The pain subsided a little, and Rose looked up to see a girl hit the floor. She whipped around and seemed to accuse Rose of something. What? As far as Rose could see, it was her who had just practically kicked her already sore ankle, and it was her fault she had fallen over. If that's even what happened. Before she could stop herself, Rose retaliated, as if defending herself. "Are you blind?" she snarled, shifting her weight slightly onto her right leg so that her left leg didn't have to carry any. "Watch where you're going like every smart person does." If she knew a fancy word for a person who doesn't watch where they're going, is oblivious, and is accusatory towards other people when it isn't their fault. She wished she had a word like that instead of sounding dorky in her own head. If she was going to fight with people for ridiculous reasons, she might as well do it well.
19 Apr 2021, 21:32
Projecting Outward
@Rose Moon
Her vision had come into focus. The person she was facing, the one that had tripped her, was familiar. From the vivid red hair alone, there was a split second of fear this was Katrina she'd snapped at, but between the absence of a teal streak and different voice, it clearly wasn't. It took her a moment to match the face to a name. Rose Moon. Second year, Gryffindor, duellist. Not just any duellist, but one in her own pool of competitors, which meant she should avoid any altercation between them. Duelling may have been a sport of knocking your opponents unconscious, and yet it did not have to be personal and it was better that way.
Except, the thought only barely crossed her mind, and while she should have restrained herself and apologized as a representative of her House and a newly appointed co-captain, the logic was not enough to hold back the waves of raw emotion. It hurt where she'd fallen, leaving an almost choked feeling in her chest that she was ignoring--she was not about to cry--and Rose didn't seem to possess any interest in a peaceful resolution, either. If she had, maybe Bridget would have found it in her to stop. But as it stood, the girl calling her 'blind' and insulting her intelligence without grounds only stoked the internal fire. She crossed her arms, noting with narrowed eyes the way Rose was favoring her right leg. Weird, since her leg couldn't hurt that much from tripping her. She hadn't fallen hard on stone.
It seemed she had been wrong about Rose tripping her on purpose. The reaction was wrong for that being the case, some sort of smirk would have been more likely. Intentional or not, though, she had still definitely tripped her and it was not just Bridget's fault. She did have a point about watching where she was going, not that the brunette would admit to that. Honestly, Rose could have easily said she was sorry and that it had been an accident. Her first remark hadn't insulted the redhead, even if it had been accusatory.
"Ah, yes. Because every smart person anticipates some imbecile sticking their foot out into a busy hallway. What did you think was going to happen?" It would have been an excellent time to turn around and leave, really. Instead, she found herself wanting to see how Rose responded. The second year's first words had hardly been hurtful; she knew little to nothing about her and insulting her intelligence didn't poke any insecurities. Was it wrong to hope for the girl to fumble with an answer? To feel a similar satisfaction as in her imaginings of firing spells into training dummies?
Phyllis Stanwood (iNPC) • Aislin Darragh (2nd gen) • Alejandros Espinosa (2nd gen iNPC)
23 Apr 2021, 20:57
Projecting Outward
The girl seemed to pause with recognition. How did this girl know who Rose was, when Rose had no clue who she was? She looked familiar, but... who the heck was she?
Rose felt so vulnerable. Not only was her ankle hurting, but this girl looked older than her, and more experienced. She didn't want to put any weight on her ankle, but she also didn't want to look like she was favoring and was under or weaker than the other girl in any way. She made an effort to make it look casual, and that it wasn't hurting her, but she was unsuccessful. It was clear that her ankle was vulnerable and that it was causing her pain. Hopefully the other girl wasn't as observant as Rose was, and wouldn't notice it at all. But no, it was too late. She saw the girl's eyes flick from her to her foot and then back, making her senses burn with awareness. She had wanted to move it our of the girl's sight, but she had stopped herself. Hiding her foot was like admitting that it was her weakness.
Why did she even care in the first place?
That was just it- Rose had no idea why she even cared. She didn't even know why she was fighting with this girl instead of letting it drop. She didn't know why it mattered that she looked "weak" or whatever. She usually wasn't that kind of person. But there was something in her that was convinced this girl had threatened her, and she had to defend herself at the cost of... anything.
Bridget Collins. The Co-Captain of the Slytherin Dueling team. That's who she was, and that's why she looked familiar. A third year. Rose didn't entirely want to make enemies on the dueling teams, but it was Bridget who had even messed with Rose in the first place. Rose couldn't really just... hobble away. That would be throwing her dignity down the drain. She just needed Bridget to walk away and leave her alone. That would solve this entire thing. But Bridget did not walk away, no matter how annoying she was being.
Bridget snapped back, questioning her comment. Rose glowered at the girl, anger smoking in her eyes. Rose had almost wanted the girl to explode with anger and do something irrational that could make Rose's actions a little more justified. But she didn't. She even cooled down a little, and wasn't even yelling. She had made it sound like she wanted to put her leg out in the hallway, and that she had put it out so far that it was bound to trip someone. Rose kept her cool, though, and was determined not to absolutely loose her morals. "I expected for people to watch where they're going. Everyone else had no problem with me standing here. It was just you who had to come and fall on your face." Rose was right. Nobody else had fallen and blamed it on Rose. Everybody else seemed to have the common sense to skirt around her or step over her, and least of all come up and kick her foot while falling over. She narrowed her eyes a little, adding, "Maybe my expectations were too high for some."
18 May 2021, 19:39
Projecting Outward
@Rose Moon
Her thoughts kept circling back to Rose's leg. It just didn't add up. There hadn't been the sort of force behind their brief hooking of lower limbs for anything significant to have happened. She supposed some pain on Rose's end was possible, yet it couldn't be anything significant. So, then, what was with the favoring of her other leg? Was she being dramatic? Trying to get on Bridget's nerves by acting like she was the one who'd been injured when, if any of them should be nursing their wounds, it was her with her stinging knees and the palm she was pretty sure she'd scraped? Not that that made much sense; nonetheless, it was kind of working.
Or was it not made-up at all? Could she have knocked Rose's leg just the right way to injure something? Or perhaps she'd twisted her ankle or something earlier and she'd just worsened that. She hadn't planned on the images of Matthew coming to mind, with that disappointed look he would get sometimes, an expression she so hated directed at her. How quickly satisfaction could crumble. He would not approve of behaving like this, of being so pointlessly awful to someone...
Whatever. She didn't care, she didn't. Rose was no innocent victim here. The Gryffindor was at least partly at fault and had been nothing but antagonistic. Rose didn't get to trigger guilt over what Matthew would think about this, and besides, he'd never know. For him to be aware this encounter had happened, she would have to tell him and she wasn't going to do that. And, for all she knew, he could be dead right now and she wouldn't know until the owl came.
Rose's rebuttal, though annoying and just a continuation of the conflict, was good for one thing: it forced her to shove those fears back down, just like she'd been doing the past week whenever they surfaced. She had to pay attention to listen, to then formulate a proper response. Getting lost in her thoughts would look like letting Rose win. Maybe it was merely a stroke of poor luck that they were here, but Rose was souring an already terrible day.
And now she was rambling on about expectations. Bridget couldn't care less about Rose's 'expectations', honestly. She was a relative stranger, just another student that had done nothing to earn the Slytherin's liking or respect. Yet, she could hear those last words in Matthew's voice. His opinion was one she cared about and she knew her older brother would not be proud of her right now.
She turned her head for a moment, pretending to give an incredulous look to the wall, in fact to mask her rapid blinking as she fought the internal breakdown's attempt to spill over into the external. Don't think about that now. Right. Rose's expectations. Crisis averted, at least for now--this would be a terrible place to start crying--she faced the redhead again, head cocked. The second year had a point about the whole 'paying attention to your surroundings' thing, but she'd had just as much of a point with extending your leg into a trickle of commuters. Rose hadn't acknowledged that so, really, she was just repaying in kind.
As for the expectations bit? It sounded pretty lousy. "Expectations? How about the expectation that if it rather looks like you intentionally tripped someone and you didn't, you apologize? Why immediately start insulting the person when you weren't the one to suffer injury?" Unable to maintain as even a tone as before, she at least kept the emotion from bleeding in. Would Rose even recognize the logic of her statement, or would she keep up her retorts? At this point, the twisted enjoyment of this exchange faded, she hoped the Gryffindor would stop, be the one to back down. Tiring of this aside, Bridget wasn't sure her pride would let her not have the last word.
Phyllis Stanwood (iNPC) • Aislin Darragh (2nd gen) • Alejandros Espinosa (2nd gen iNPC)
1 Jun 2021, 22:23
Projecting Outward
Go away go away go away go away go away go away...
Rose pleaded with the world to send Bridget away from her so that she could discreetly limp away from the older girl and minimize the stain on her dignity that was spreading with every second Bridget glared at her and every word that came out of either of their mouths. She didn't want this fight to go any farther. She didn't want this to go too far. She especially didn't want this to be her reputation. Rose wanted to push Bridget over, run as fast as she could to Gryffindor Tower, and curl up with her blankets over her head, calming down and generally feeling sorry for herself. But she couldn't run. She could barely walk without limping because of her sprained ankle, so she was certain to make a fool of herself running. Even if it got her away from Bridget, it wouldn't be worth it showing any kind of weakness to the girl.
Bridget dramatically looked at the wall, giving it a look that said she could not believe she was doing this right now. Neither could Rose, to be honest. The best way for this to be solved was for Bridget to walk away and she wasn't. So this was basically all Bridget's fault that this was going on, not hers. Rose was the one who had had a crap day already. Rose was the one who had already been hurt and had tried to rest her foot, only to be scolded by someone who wasn't watching where they were going.
Bridget spoke up, with a disbelieving remark. Bridget wasn't exactly wrong. She could have apologized and this whole exchange wouldn't have happened. She could have explained. She could have helped her up. But instead, her instincts had taken over and she had snapped at the Slytherin, trying to defend herself out of a place of insecurity, scared that she was being attacked. She hadn't needed to defend herself, really. She would have been okay if she hadn't snapped at Bridget to try to make her go away. She would have been okay if she had given in sooner, and Bridget wouldn't have attacked her or anything. Rose would have been fine to be nice and all.
Rose could almost feel her mother's scolding gaze boring into her. Even if it hadn't been her fault, her mother had urged her to be the bigger person and apologize. Be the bigger person and work things out. Be the bigger person and explain. Be the bigger person.
But! Bridget was in the wrong too. None of this would have happened if she hadn't come around, not watching where she was going, and tripping over Rose like the clumsy little girl she was. She hadn't been apologetic and she hadn't admitted her mistake. She hadn't been any better of a person than Rose, and so Rose had no more obligation to feel guilty than Bridget did. Rose was tired of being the bigger person. Either Bridget was the bigger person or they would just keep quarreling.
She purposefully did not answer any of the questions that Bridget asked. They were not very good answers.
"Why did you race to the conclusion that it was intentional?" Rose said, her brow furrowing. "Or were you just looking for a reason to shift the blame onto me when you were the one actively tripping over me?"
Plus, Bridget added something about how she wasn't the one to suffer injury. That was just preposterous. Bridget really liked assuming all kinds of things and Rose hated it. Her mind was wired to always bring up all kinds of suggestions of the situations and the reasons. She didn't assume anything, and she definitely didn't say out loud any of her assumptions. Bridget was so incredibly arrogant and Rose hated it. "I didn't suffer injury?" She narrowed her eyes. Her only fury was evident in her eyes. Burning and smoldering there. You wouldn't be able to see it in any other place evident in her body- not in her face, not in any clenched hands or anything. Her eyes were truly the window to her heart, and the frustration bubbling in her heart in this instance was no exception to this. That just meant that you had to look close enough to see it. "My first impression was right," Rose said, referring to when she had called Bridget stupid earlier. "You are an idiot and you know nothing." She knew that she was only making this worse.
24 Jun 2021, 19:14
Projecting Outward
@Rose Moon
This was going in circles. Round and round, both making points about why the other was in the wrong, neither accepting responsibility. Indeed, why had her thoughts jumped first to the trip being intentional? It wasn't like she traversed the hallways fearful of someone out to get her. The easiest answer was just to chalk it up to what a great day she was having. That had definitely played a large part in it and she didn't have the energy to contemplate if this was evidence she was being a less than stellar person.
The pattern must continue. "Would you be perfectly amicable after being tripped?" It wasn't the sort of question Rose was supposed to answer. If she was being honest, she would have to say no, and that would break their lovely little cycle of ignoring anything valid said. If she said yes, she was either lying or an angel, the latter which clearly wasn't the case. Rose had made that plenty clear over the past few minutes.
The Gryffindor responded with a rather impressive death glare to the last bit of what Bridget said. It might have been concerning if it looked like she was going to do anything about it. At least, anything beyond incredulously repeating her and again seeing fit to call her stupid. The attempt at insult had about as little effect as the first time; in fact, Bridget was smirking.
Presumptive and self-absorbed as it might have sounded, the comment about Rose's lack of injury had not been a thoughtless inclusion. No, she'd been very intentional, strategic even. The whole thing with Rose's leg had not escaped her notice; she was curious. Was it some weird act or a legitimate injury? She figured she could get Rose to answer that for her. Use the right words, and if x was true, you'd get a certain reaction. This reaction said Rose was hurt. A consistency with mere observation: first she had the leg extended, then she was favoring her right leg, the common thread keeping the weight off the left foot. "Thanks for confirming you're hurt." She rolled her eyes. "What did you do, trip over another student?" Doubtful, but it was a sort of joke. "Fall down the stairs?"
Unfortunately, the fact Rose was hurt meant Bridget was culpable for causing someone pain. Still an equal tradeoff, not that it felt good. And now that she had this information, she could see an acceptable way to take her leave. "You know, the Hospital Wing could fix that in seconds. Faster than hanging around some hallway, anyhow. But whatever suits you. I'll leave you to it."
A last unimpressed look at Rose, and then she pivoted on her heel, exiting the scene at a brisk pace. The redhead could still retort--she couldn't get out of earshot that fast--could still have the last word. She would have to force herself to keep walking. It wasn't worth it, a fact ever so clear now that there was distance between them. At best, she'd been able to blow off some steam. At worst, she'd made someone else's day as bad as her own.
What had even been the point of all that?
Thread left
Phyllis Stanwood (iNPC) • Aislin Darragh (2nd gen) • Alejandros Espinosa (2nd gen iNPC)
30 Jul 2021, 22:03
Projecting Outward
Rose gave a sigh, and a tone that said Bridget wasn't listening to her, replied, "For the last time, I didn't trip you, you tripped." Bridget was the one who was actively tripping. Rose had just been standing there, and Bridget was the one who caused all of this. Even if Rose hadn't put her foot out into the hall (slightly!), Bridget might still have tripped, and she probably wouldn't accept any kind of accusations of her actual deeds. Rose wasn't doing anything.
Although, Rose really doubted either of them were really listening to each other. Bridget didn't take into account anything Rose was saying. Rose was going to stand by her opinion no matter what. Bridget was in the wrong here, though. She just had to start listening to Rose, apologize and tell Rose she was right, and then... and then what? Even if Bridget did that, would Rose be happy? Would she be satisfied by this encounter? Would she feel like wrongs had been righted?
Apparently Bridget thought she was incredibly superior to Rose, and was proud of herself for manipulating Rose into telling her whether she was injured or not. Was she that easily manipulated? Bridget jeered at her a little bit about her injury. "Ah, yes. The incredibly dishonorable act of tripping over somebody." Add it to the list of all the things Rose had done wrong today.
Bridget wasn't wrong about how the Hospital Wing could help her much more than standing around in the hallway would. But Bridget just didn't get it. Rose didn't know where she wanted to go, but she didn't want to go to the Great Hall. That was the last place she wanted to be. The Hospital Wing could probably help her ankle, but she wasn't weak or anything. She could stomach a twisted ankle without throwing herself at the feet of the Nurse. Nurse Brumby had better things to do than fix twisted ankles. If Bridget was going to complain about being injured and the boo-boo on her hand or whatever the heck she was angry about, then she could go to the Hospital Wing instead of telling Rose what to do.
The hall started to have less and less people in it, and Bridget seemed to follow.
As Bridget walked away from Rose- in an oh-so superior way- Rose held back every retort that she could think of. The very last thing she wanted was for Bridget to turn right back around and continue the argument, and then they would just get nowhere again. She waited until Bridget strutted (okay, maybe she wasn't strutting, but in the moment, it felt like it) out of view, and then sank downwards, sliding against the wall. The hall was now pretty much deserted. Rose rested her forehead on her knees, pulling her legs to her chest gingerly.
She wasn't even mad anymore. She was just tired. She was so so tired. A weight seemed to bear down on her, pushing her towards the ground. Maybe Rose would just stay here forever. She would ignore everybody who told her to move. She would huddle up in a little ball and stay there, waiting for her problems to dissolve.
No. She couldn't do that. She wouldn't do that. She didn't do that. She knew that eventually, she would go up to her dorm in Gryffindor Tower, and the next day she would wake up and do everything that was expected of her. Smile. Laugh. Raise her hand and do her homework.
Over and over and over.
Why had Rose done that?
Rose Moon has left the Thread
Thread Finished