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Post by boingpop on Mar 28, 2007 22:18:44 GMT -5
Jean was taken aback by Ians sudden outburst, attack almost. He turned to face him, looking down to him his facial expression a genuine confusion for the cause of the tirade. "Calm down I didn't say you're bon fires weren't a time, just not my time." He put his hands in his back pockets and looked as the sun settled slowly. "You don't know my friends, or me for that matter. You've no position to tell me at what I claim merit."
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Post by Ian Flanagan on Mar 28, 2007 22:26:32 GMT -5
Ian shook his head again, his eyes wide and his lips set. "I wouldn't want to," he retorted, standing up suddenly. "Fucking Kinricks . . . yeah, you and your friends, that's all you ever care about . . . no past, no future, nothing further than your happy moment and your good time . . . all color, no substance . . . weak . . ." His tone faltered; his eyes which had matched the ocean in color now took on the slightest glitter too, some splash of the waves pooling over the rim of his lower eyelids, swelling and cresting like the surf. Ian seemed to realize this and coughed loudly, turning away from Jean long enough to find dignity and control again, and hating his emotional exposure.
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Post by boingpop on Mar 28, 2007 22:38:55 GMT -5
"I'm not weak." He said turning to him standing legs shoulder width apart, hands still in his back pockets. "What is you're issue?" He asked trying to remain outwardly unaffected by the remarks. "If I'm all of what you've laid me out to be why are you still here?" His hair blew a bit in a small wind. "I've got nothing to offer you in confrontation, I won't be made to argue on Kinrick's behalf." He was breathing a little heavier now, slightly scared of the situation Ian no longer seemed safe conversation.
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Post by Ian Flanagan on Mar 28, 2007 22:57:48 GMT -5
"I have every right to be here. You can leave if I'm pissing you off . . ." His voice dropped down and trailed into something cold. He rubbed at his eyes and tucked his wand away. "I don't know why I'm still here. I can't believe I've nothing better to do." He looked the Kinrick up and down and shrugged a little. "Whatever." Ian knew he was moody and could do nothing for it; knew he was losing his diplomatic edge, knew that he would get nowhere lashing out at everyone. He took a deep breath in, listening to the gentles rocking of the surf, and looked at the sand once more.
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Post by boingpop on Mar 28, 2007 23:32:17 GMT -5
Jean just sighed annoyed at the whole thing. He kicked a bit of sand to the side with his foot. "Whatever." He spoke, giving up on conversation and starting off in the other direction. Walking along the line of sand which was created by wet and dry the waves often lapped at his feet, his sandals now wet. Still visible by a combination of both the remnants of sunlight and the ever growing number of lights coming from the buildings beyond Jean stopped as three students, each as tall or taller than himself. There was a brief exchange of words, most of which were inaudible due to the rising sound of the waves. One grabbed Jean's arm, he quickly pulled it away. "Try it I'll kill you..." Jean yelled stepping backward and glancing to the dormitory. He repeated the action grabbing just above the elbow. Jean pulled again, but was spun around in quite an interesting fashion and was now held by the neck by the largest of the trio. Another punched him, the third following. After a repetition of this Jean was released, or rather thrown, into the surf a wave crashing onto the shore covering him at the moment. He was pushed to the line of dry and wet, tumbling over himself now wet and covered in sand. The three stood a few feet to the side. Jean pushed himself to his feet and tried to move toward then, a sharp piercing pain in his leg sending him back into the sand. Cursing them he tried a few more times before amidst laughter they left. Jean slammed his fist against the wet sand rolling onto his back.
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Post by Ian Flanagan on Mar 28, 2007 23:47:42 GMT -5
Ian took a few moments to even notice the encounter was happening, but when it did he almost just left. He didn't want to get involved. But they were safely away from him, and curiousity got the better of the Wolfsbane as he settled onto a trio of rocks to watch the incident with an internal debate raging over the proper course of action. Finally, after they had left, he jogged over to where Jean was laying and looked down at him, his face blank but his eyes thoughtful, not judging good or bad. Just considering in silence.
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Post by boingpop on Mar 29, 2007 16:15:06 GMT -5
Jean groaned and rubbed his face trying to get the wet sand from his facade. With a wince he looked up to see Ian, sighing, almost annoyed at he was just staring. "What do you want?" He asked in a forced breath. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, trying to appear less fragmented than he was. His entire person was wet, and streaked with lines of wet sand. He reached into his back pocket first confirming that his wand wasn't somewhere in the surf than pulling out his book which had now become illegible- ink running down the pages pooling on the edges. "D.ammit!" He threw the book into the receding wave.
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Post by Ian Flanagan on Mar 29, 2007 16:39:39 GMT -5
Ian shrugged. "What did they want?" he asked curiously. "You in some sort of trouble? Were they in your house? Are you for the most part all right?" There was that characteristic overwhelming curiousity, easily pushing aside normal human concern for his own self-centered thinking. The potential injury of Jean didn't trouble him as much as things he didn't know. He'd added the last query as a superficial nod to expected social standards. Ian fingered the one of the two necklaces he was wearing, twisting the dark leather cord around his fingers, and lifted his foot slightly to shake loose a few annoying grains of sand from his sandals.
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Post by boingpop on Mar 29, 2007 17:01:56 GMT -5
"Nothing." Jean replied watching as the book returned to his side as the waves crashed back in. "I'm fine- no they weren't." He sat up now rubbing his head which hurt somewhat, he figured rolling around in the waves wasn't the best way to keep your head from hurting.
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Post by Ian Flanagan on Mar 29, 2007 17:07:12 GMT -5
"I thought you'd prove more interesting. You looked interesting," Ian said sadly, as though Jean's failure to keep him occupied were a fundamental shortcoming. "That little incident piqued my curiousity but you're not even going to explain yourself? This is Knockwood, not a Muggle ghetto . . . I don't think many students just go around randomly throwing their classmates into the ocean."
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Post by boingpop on Mar 29, 2007 17:18:55 GMT -5
"Its none of you're business, I'm not here to entertain you." He snapped back, laying back down and putting his hands over his eyes. "You can stop acting concerned now, I'm sure your bon fire is starting soon." He scoffed bending his leg, up then straight again slowly trying to test what hurt.
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Post by Ian Flanagan on Mar 29, 2007 17:37:49 GMT -5
Ian shrugged. "It's not my bonfire . . . I seem to be walking the wrong direction to be headed there."
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Post by boingpop on Mar 29, 2007 17:41:49 GMT -5
"Is there something you want then? I can't see how you standing there, when you've already told me I don't interest, you is doing any good." He pushed off the ground now standing in front of Ian.
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Post by Ian Flanagan on Mar 29, 2007 17:57:54 GMT -5
"Nothing I want," Ian answered, hiding a need to talk to someone, anyone, no matter how poorly the conversation was going. An all-out brawl would be better than wandering alone down the beach.
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Post by boingpop on Mar 29, 2007 18:25:32 GMT -5
Jean just turned away from him, he didn't feel well suddenly and couldn't be bothered with Ian's mood. He'd only just met him yet already he was starting to question Ian's sanity. He seemed so contradicted in action. Jean looked out at the waves hands in pockets.
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