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Post by boingpop on May 3, 2007 18:01:37 GMT -5
Jean walked down the stairs, next to the large stone rail on the right. He paused for a moment looking down the large stairwell. He smiled to himself, and with a small laugh turned and continued once more down the stairs. He heard someone coming down the stairs behind him and in his usual style didn't mind it much, having seen no reason to. A moment after, he felt someone grab his shoulder, after that he was on the ground, having been thrown from one side of the stair to the other.
"You were in my way." He figure said in a cold voice, as he started off again. Jean scowled and stood quickly moving to him, yet he was knocked down again. Harder this time. Annoyed he yelled something incoherent as the other passed through a door at the landing below.
Breathing heavier now he sat down at the landing and leaned against the wall, slamming his fist against it then putting both hands on his forehead and pushing back his hair.
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Post by Ian Flanagan on May 3, 2007 18:23:53 GMT -5
Ian heard the echoes of downward footsteps and so wasn't overly surprised when he came up from the other half of the stairs to find another person in the stairwell. The fact that it was Jean was a little shocking, and the fact that he was seated Ian found even odder. He reached the landing and thought over the unusually loud echoing he'd heard as he'd opened the door on the floor below, and asked tentatively, "Did you trip down the stairs or something?" Ian crouched down besides him, clutching his book in his left arm against himself and peering at the Kinrick with a mixture of concern and curiousity.
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Post by boingpop on May 3, 2007 18:34:23 GMT -5
"Something like that." He sighed angrily pushing his hair back then letting it fall. "I didn't trip on my own." He said looking at the door with a small disgust. He was used to the action of it, yet it always made him angry. That didn't fail, he hated it. He looked up at Ian and sighed lowering his head. Looking at his person then, he noticed the hem on his pants had torn. "Oh brilliant..." He said in disgust, his body seeming to loose any strong emotion in the moment of realization, all settling in a mellow mix.
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Post by Ian Flanagan on May 3, 2007 18:48:31 GMT -5
Ian raised an eyebrow at the first of his comments but followed Jean's gaze down to the tear of his pants. "A Knockwood education will serve you well in your future," he said in a heavy and rhythmic intonation that suggestion he was quoting an oft-heard lecture; the roll of his eyes indicated it was a personal favorite, and his rueful grin was a tribute to the realization that it was at least a little true . . . he set his book to the ground and shifted his weight onto his toes, plucking out his wand and tapping it to the hem, mending it with only the slightest muttering of the spell. "No big deal . . . but you don't need to be sewn together I hope?" he inquired as he tapped the wand against his other hand idly.
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Post by boingpop on May 3, 2007 19:25:45 GMT -5
Jean laughed lightly looked over himself. "I think I'm okay..." He smiled, but it quickly fell away. Having nothing much to say, and finding his current mood the main cause for this, he pushed hair back again and sighed. "Thanks..." He finally added, realizing he hadn't thanked him before.
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Post by Ian Flanagan on May 3, 2007 19:36:30 GMT -5
"For what?" Ian asked, confused, then looked down at the wand in his hands. "Oh . . . oh, right," he said, and laughed a little. "Yeah, anytime." He stood back up and tucked his wand away, then glanced down at the book he'd left sitting on the floor. Feeling both lazy and showy, he pulled his wand out again and performed a silent charm that sent the book whizzing towards the ceiling; Ian sort of jumped a few inches and caught it halfway through its trajectory. Standing there holding both wand and book, he grinned at Jean and used the outer two fingers of the hand holding the wand to brush his hair back a little. "So wear have you been lately? . . I haven't seen you much .. ."
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Post by boingpop on May 3, 2007 19:57:29 GMT -5
"Around" he replied without much emotion. He'd not really felt like company much, he'd spent most of the time reading his book, which he'd finished two fold, yet he continued to read the parts he liked, and the book continued to reside in his back pocket. He scratched his head and then spent a moment fixing his hair. "And yourself?" He asked, "I haven't seen you either..." It was a stupid response but really he wasn't in the mood for questions of himself.
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Post by Ian Flanagan on May 3, 2007 20:05:12 GMT -5
Ian sort of nodded back at him as his grin grew wider. "And that would be because . . . you haven't been around, wouldn't it? Unless you have a secret network of spies and I've ducked their gaze as well . . ." Ian quppied. He bit at his lower lip and released it, looking genuinely amused at the point, the corners of his eyes deepening with a few happy creases as he review the thought in his mind.
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Post by boingpop on May 3, 2007 20:07:58 GMT -5
Jean smiled, looking down slightly and shaking his head with a small laugh. "Then I guess I'm to blame for it." he said in a light tone, looking back up and sighing, his demeanor still light. "Well, I do apologize." He said with a small turn of his hand and a half hearted bend at the waist, he was still sitting and the motion didn't quite work in that respect.
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Post by Ian Flanagan on May 3, 2007 20:19:40 GMT -5
"You should. People were beginning to believe you didn't exist. At least . . . I don't think I was believed by my housemates when I said there was a Kinrick worth talking to . . . " At the potentially offensive comment Ian's fingers twitched towards his mouth as though he were going to cover it but instead he bit at his thumbnail and shrugged in his version of apology.
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Post by boingpop on May 3, 2007 20:32:19 GMT -5
"Maybe I don't." He said with a grin. "You could be crazy, talking to no one. I could be in your head." He smiled and looked at him for a moment, silent. The resumed a subtle laugh.
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Post by Ian Flanagan on May 3, 2007 20:58:19 GMT -5
Though anyone else would have laugh, Ian's airy chuckle bounced choppily into a low mutter as he considered the possibility for a moment. "You could be," he agreed with an enthusiastic point at Jean. "I mean . . . I only seem to run into you in isolated places . . . and then nobody had much to say about you even being at that bonfire . . . except . . .Brandon's seen you . . so I think you must be real." And he half turned and tossed his book onto the third step up from the landing.
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