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Post by Morgan O'Neil on Jun 28, 2008 23:53:41 GMT
  ``Yeah I Talk Shit ,, ``Just Deal With It ,,
Morgan pulled herself up on her desk, crossing her legs and flattening her robes over her thighs. Another detention, another letter home. Like she cared. This teacher didn't know shit.
Morgan prized herself at being one of the most troublesome students the school has ever encountered. In fact she often annoyed teachers to the extreme she was compared to the Weasley twins. That was one hell of a insult..
Morgan hated the Weasley's with all her being. They were a pathetic excuse for a Wizard. And some of them were pure, PURE, what a insult to a wizarding community...
Morgan glanced to the back of the room, checking that her teacher was not about to enter. When satisfied she dug in her bag and pulled out a cigarette.
Morgan did everything she shouldn't. Everything a wizard shouldn't, everything a muggle shouldn't. Well within reason. She smoked, she swore, she took some drugs, she'd had under age sex. You name it, chances are she's done it.
Lighting her cigarette she inhaled deeply, letting the toxic substance fill her lungs. She exhaled, smiling happily to herself. "Much better" she mumbled to herself, feeling altogether a lot calmer.
[blockquote][blockquote][right][IMG]http://i26.tinypic.com/2echk4h.png[/IMG] [IMG]http://i25.tinypic.com/2mzhcer.png[/IMG]
``Yeah I Talk Shit ,,
``Just Deal With It ,,[/right] |
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Post by Nitca Petrovsky on Jun 29, 2008 0:52:07 GMT
Nitca walked down the hall at a decent pace, or more like skipped, her mind in its own little world as usual. Then again she liked it there better there, nothing to distract her from thinking what she wished to think, which some would believe as sin, though her family would explain as something perfectly natural. Wishing to hurt someone, cause them pain, bring forth a blood curdling scream of agony as they knew their lives were slipping away slowly… Slipping away slowly yet gracefully, in such a beautiful way… Yeah, that was natural, as natural as it could possibly get with the Petrovsky blood running through her veins. But she didn’t mind it and thought of it all like life, it wasn’t as if she thought of it all the time or anything either, she was more interested in learning, perhaps having some sort of fun, some things a normal sixteen year old would like… maybe… Probably. She didn’t know.
She hummed a sweet song her mother had taught her as she went along the corridors, a song that had no meaning to the family, but the woman liked it for some reason. Nitca liked it as well; the sound of it as her uncle played it on the piano for them was magnificent, beautiful, haunting and soothing all at once… The man had of course learned it just for their enjoyment, that is, when he was not busy doing his work as an auror, something he enjoyed only because he was pretty much paid to hurt other people. Well he wasn’t almost meant to hurt them, but he did it anyways. But as she hummed loudly some eyes were on her, she did not realize this for a moment, the other students looking at the humming skipping student… And when she did a light flush came over her cheeks, never had she much enjoyed eyes on her if she was just going about her own thing, it just made her comfortable and relieved when she finally made it to the door of the Transfiguration room.
As she opened the door she had of course expected no one, or perhaps the teach out of their office so that she may ask some questions on something she’d found in a book, which evidently she’d forgotten in the common room. Yes, she’d expected no one, or someone older, but what she found was a student, one, who was not doing something proper enough to do in school. Smoking. It was not that Nitca was against smokers or anything, she just never really thought of doing such a thing to herself, kill her lungs… Her family actually prided themselves in not smoking, thinking their bodies as tools they meant to keep healthy. All Nitca really had was her mind though, her mind and the knife of which she kept on her more than her wand, she had decent skills with it, but nothing to admirable compared to her family except for a good throw.
She was sure that the professor of which she looked for was not here, for the student would not be smoking otherwise, but she slipped in anyways her mind curious as always. “So it seems that not only one enjoys the kill,” she said, her voice hinted with Russian, but of course her British heritage spoke through more. “Almost makes me feel a little less different.” Nitca slowly walked up to the other student, her steps soft yet confident, her nostrils flaring for a moment when the scent of the nicotine stick first touched came into reach of her smelling senses. |
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Post by Morgan O'Neil on Jun 29, 2008 1:44:48 GMT
``Yeah I Talk Shit ,, ``Just Deal With It ,,
Morgan's head snapped round when she heard footsteps, her first reaction was that it was the teacher returned. In fact, in that brief second she rather hoped it was. Smoking within the halls was one of the very few rules she hadn't been caught doing and she was rather curious as to how she would be punished.
Morgan didn't respond as the girl spoke, at least not just yet. Her gaze followed the girl as she entered, sizing her up, judging whether she was worth speaking to and if she was how bitchy to be.
She seemed confident, Morgan admired that. Most girls around the school avoided Morgan completely. But then to be fair she was rather intimidating.
"And what would a girl like you know of killing?" she said, in her thick Irish accent. She had picked up most of the English ways of speaking, but she didn't even bother to try and hide her accent. She was proud of her heritage. Her gaze let the girl know that Morgan did not like her. And that she was worth several million of the younger girl.
Morgan, knew a fair bit about killing. She'd watched her share of murders in her home town, she'd watched her brother kill to protect her. She knew what it was like to come so close to the cold hand of death and escape, although she had yet to know what it felt like to deliver the cold hand. All in good time, all in good time.
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Post by Nitca Petrovsky on Jun 29, 2008 2:45:22 GMT
Nitca tilted her head a bit, faint locks of her hair brushing up to her cheek as she did such. What did she know of killing? She knew that she’d killed her parents with one of their own wands… That she felt no remorse for it, and in fact wished to kill again. She knew that one could scream so horribly as they died, as her parents had when they woke up to find themselves in flames. She knew that if she had not killed them, she personally would not be before this girl at the very moment. Nitca personally knew that she was proud that she had killed them, because well… She not only saved her life, but her sister’s. Obviously this girl knew much more about killing than someone like her should, some one with such childish looks, and she enjoyed it more than someone like her should as well.
She smiled lightly and shrugged. “I’d know a lot I suppose,” she said simply her eyes looking at the girl, but then not looking at her at the same time. It was almost as if she was just looking past her, as if she was nothing… Though it seemed kinder than the way that this girl looked upon her. Hate was already in her eyes and she had yet to do anything to be hated, but one could be liked that, she supposed. First dislike and then grow to like, or just dislike even more. Nitca usually felt neutral towards people until they gave her reason to think otherwise, but whatever floated this girl’s boat she supposed. “Like one may enjoy the feeling of dying if they smoked cigarettes, especially at such a young age. Not judging you or anything, of course. I have no right to do that.”
The talk of death caused her to keep her mind on her knife; she’d only killed animals with it, hunting of course. Animals didn’t deserve to be killed for mere humor, they were who they were and they weren’t as disgusting as humans. The thought of her knife though cause her to brush her arm against her side so that she could make sure that the blade was still by her hip… Some how it made her feel more comfortable that it was there, and keeping her thoughts to it made her forget about the burning the cigarette smoke caused in her nose, she’d get use to it after sometime though. |
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Post by Morgan O'Neil on Jun 29, 2008 3:05:26 GMT
``Yeah I Talk Shit ,, ``Just Deal With It ,,
When the girl spoke Morgan instantly became bored. As she often did in conversations that weren't with her brother, or arguments with her parents. She turned her gaze away from her, flicking the cigarette butt to the floor. Morgan rummaged through her bag, pulling out black nail varnish.
Resting the pot on the table, Morgan began painting her finger nails. She glanced up when the girl spoke of her smoking. Morgan bit back the nasty comment she wanted to say. She'd decided that this girl wasn't worth the breath.
"Each to their own" she said sourly turning her gaze back to her finger nails. Yeah, Morgan was slightly vain, a teeny weenie bit.
"You got a name?" she asked, without looking up. The girl didn't appear to be leaving, might as well have some form of conversation.
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Post by Nitca Petrovsky on Jun 29, 2008 8:01:58 GMT
Nitca blew lightly as a last swirl of smoke came towards her, keeping the horrid scent from her nose if there was no need to get comfortable with it unless the girl was to light another. The smoke swirled away suddenly twisting in shape as it floated into another direction until it disappeared into the oxygen around it, fascinating her enough that she’d not heard the first words the girl had spoken, not that they’d mattered anyways, they caught her attention enough to hear what she said next. Her name, she’d asked something as simple as that when one could merely looked into the eyes and see who a person was, that was what a name was after all. It merely described a person, who they were, who they were meant to be to the near but strict basics…. Then again, Nitca had yet to figure out how to read a person’s soul through there eyes, so it was easy for her to answer without question.
“Nitca Petrovsky,” she told her as she attempted to look into the girl’s eyes, see what kind of person she was besides a somewhat rude, quite hateful person. She did not know though, she could not get a good view of those blue eyes again. She gave up quickly, she didn’t much care when she knew she’d just get her name anyways when she asked in a moment. “How about you? Do you have a name?” she asked back as she walked to the desk in front of the other student, sitting on the edge, now finally wondering what she was doing there in the first place. She seemed rebellious this Irish accented young woman, and so she would probably not stay here just for the fun of it. Detention, maybe. It’d make perfect sense since she was painting her nails, and who really wants to do that in a classroom? |
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Post by Morgan O'Neil on Jun 29, 2008 13:15:36 GMT
``Yeah I Talk Shit ,, ``Just Deal With It ,,
Nitca. She knew that name from somewhere, probably in passing conversation. "Ravenclaw" she said, more of a statement then a question. She knew the girl was, Morgan knew most people by name and house.
Morgan finished off her last nail, fastened the pot and began blowing on them gently. Very bored with the girl in front of her. She glanced up in time to see the girl perch on the edge of a desk near her. She sighed "Morgan O'Neil." she answered, not bothering to keep the boredom from her voice.
Morgan was bored alot of the time. The students of Hogwarts just didn't do anything. They bitched they were scared of some guy called Voldemort. Who in Morgan's opinion had the right idea. Those filthy mud-bloods who stole the magic from those who deserved it. They should not be allowed to attend any magic school.
Although to be fair Morgan wouldn't go as far as killing them, but still. He had the foundations right. "Do you want something, or are you just here to make my detention even more exciting?" she asked sourly.
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Post by Nitca Petrovsky on Jun 29, 2008 18:02:49 GMT
Ravenclaw… So she knew her some how, obviously not by face or she wouldn’t have asked her name. But she did not know how she felt with her name being in the back of people’s minds, yes, impressions where darling to have but for one to know her name, the description of her soul, yet not know her, and be a bit rude… Oh well, if one was to know they were to know, it wasn’t as if she’d though about how much she didn’t care for it before this girl, and so she quickly found herself not really caring. This girl's name personally seemed to be something familiar yet she did not know her house, nor her year, but she assumed she was either the same age as her or older. And assuming she was the rebel she looked like she was either a Gryffindor or a Slytherin, though she wouldn't be stupid enough to say that aloud... If she were to say the wrong one she'd surely get offend.
Her foot began to push the chair behind of the desk she was on in just the right place so that it'd tilt back and forth with the littlest effort possible. She couldn't help but feel a little bored herself, this girl was not much fun and she was stopping any words that may set her off for some reason... She could have said more to get her a bit heated, but she hated. Perhaps she looked for something more than another hateful relationship because of her mouth. But she was right, she was here for detention.
Nitca smirked and pushed herself up further onto the desk and stood up on it, giving a small bow. "I'm here to bring excitement of course. If you can enjoy my kind of excitement...." She walked off along the desks in the row, though this wasn't much of anything yet, it seemed better than just standing there awaiting her, Morgan, to do more than just sit there, being a bit curt. |
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Post by Morgan O'Neil on Jun 29, 2008 19:24:32 GMT
``Yeah I Talk Shit ,, ``Just Deal With It ,,
Morgan raised her eyebrows as the girl bowed. Very confused by this girl. The strong feeling of dislike for her was replaced by a strong feeling of interest.
Morgan's eyes followed the girl as she moved over the desks, talking about entertainment. Morgan was very intrigued. Which was unusual, from wasn't normally interested in things other then sex, drugs and boys.
"And what is your idea of entertainment?" she asked, her eyes fixed on the girls face.
ooc; it's horrible... Morgan muse really low.
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