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Zevalyn
Does this medicine make people extra wordy?
Wed Apr 18, 2018 22:42
173.67.179.52

Zevalyn blinked in surprise at Kir’s apparently very low opinion of Crotali. She had already basically eliminated all the Crotalus boys in or near her year as potential ball dates, because she assumed being a muggleborn meant they wouldn’t be interested in her, but she hadn’t specifically assigned that mindset to Crotalus as a whole. And there was a rather large gulf between ‘not dating’ and ‘leaving for dead’ that she wouldn’t attribute even to the snootiest of the purebloods.

Maybe she’d just been too busy studying to notice and she was letting her pre-magic life of being part of the privileged class influence her, but she didn’t think anyone in the school was quite that racist against her. It just wasn’t something pretty blond girls really needed to worry about in her life experience. If she needed help, people tended to appear out of the woodwork to help her, regardless of them knowing her parents were non-magical.

Maybe she was still privileged, just not by as large a margin as in the muggle world. She wondered if maybe straight up muggleborns were actually luckier in that regard than people like Kir and Georgia who got hit with institutionalized racism earlier in their lives. Heck, Zevalyn had two extra years - essentially three when one accounted for her September second birthday - of avoiding that kind of quiet animosity than even most muggleborns. She came into the wizarding world as a teenager, a day shy of fourteen, already pretty sure of who she was becoming (and thinking that ‘witch’ was plenty enough to have to work into that self-image), rather than as an impressionable pre-teen only just starting on that journey, and maybe that made a huge difference in how she saw herself and the world around her. That she was sixteen before she took her nose out of her books and paid any attention to the people around her probably protected her even more.

She still didn’t think anyone was about to leave her for dead or anything (that was, she hoped, an extreme exaggeration), but she supposed Kir’s resentment may not be entirely unfounded, especially if his family had cause to walk away from that part of wizarding society. Judging by the rainbow pins and badges on his bag, she could probably guess which issue had been under contention. Which, come to think of it, may be a whole family crusade since many of them said ‘The McLeod Foundation’ on them which sounded like something that probably didn’t just spring up recently when they realized their fourteen year old son was into guys and so probably had nothing to do with Kir himself at all as Georgia had assumed, though of course, neither did it entirely eliminate the possibility that she was correct . . . “Erm,” she said awkwardly, because that thought - the one where Kir may be promoting his family’s cause rather than his own orientation- put the magically folded flowers into a whole different light.

Granted, that he may be bi and was possibly flirting with her had already occurred to her, but that he was potentially straight and almost certainly flirting with her somehow seemed a bit more . . . she didn’t know, imminent or something? That was probably the wrong word. It just felt more like it was actually happening and she wasn’t just imagining it.

It wasn’t that she didn’t think guys would want to flirt with her (assuming, of course, they weren’t culturally prohibited from doing so due to her being a muggleborn) but it just seemed like so many of the guys in the school were that sort, that when it happened, she thought she might still be misinterpreting it, especially if there was a chance the guy in question was gay. Which there still was but - argh, she was so confused and wasn’t sure if that was because of hormones, medication, or her recent brain frying.

At least there was a concrete question for her to answer: Homework or flowers, which made for a better sickbed present?

He was probably flirting. She was pretty sure.

Right, answer to question, she should do that. “Ah, well, homework is practical and something I need, but um,” she looked a bit helplessly at the homework she currently had, “homework folded up into origami flowers is . . . less so. But at least they won’t die. Cut flowers always die, and it’s sad, and what sort of message is that sending to somebody in a sickbed anyway? But they’re pretty, while they last, and until they do that dying thing, they help lighten the atmosphere and make you feel better emotionally, if not physically, so they’re not entirely useless either, but then there is the dying thing, so maybe a potted flower? Or balloons. I like balloons. Wizards have balloons, right? Though probably not the little ones on sticks that say ‘Get Well Soon!’ and are all shiny and reflective on the back. Those are cute.”

Also on the matter of hormones, medication, and her recent brain frying, she wondered which of those was responsible for her excessive amount of talking.

“Though given that I’m on the mend and you’re the one hanging out with sick people, the better question is probably which do you prefer?”

  • Amber was definitely looking better, he was pleased to note. She was engaging in the suitably Aladren-like behaviour of sitting up reading, and was no longer shivering convulsively. All good signs.... more
    • Does this medicine make people extra wordy? — Zevalyn, Wed Apr 18 22:42
      • Something round here definitely doesKir, Thu Apr 19 08:18
        He got a blink and an ‘erm.’ He tried to tell himself that it could have gone down worse, in that Zevalyn didn’t seem actively upset with him for being a deeply horrible person who had said such a... more
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