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Post by Loce Vaisey on Mar 21, 2023 15:45:05 GMT -8
Loce lounged against the wall outside the DATDA classroom waiting on the Gryffindor to emerge. As much as he’d wanted to walk Anneli to her next class, he had something he needed to do first. He chatted absently with a few other students as they left and deliberately made himself unavailable has Fergus exited the room.
The hallway was nearly deserted now. He wondered if the Gryffindor would show or if he would have to track him down elsewhere. It was for his own good anyway.
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Oliver Seán O'Shea
Gryffindor
5th Year - Slytherin Captain/Beater - What's it ter yer?
Posts: 89
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Post by Oliver Seán O'Shea on Mar 21, 2023 18:42:08 GMT -8
Oliver was one of the last students to leave Professor Ghica's classroom. Despite the note to meet, he felt no compelled rush. He had finished up his Quidditch training session before dawn that day and had completed most of his homework during classes. Oliver looked at note again, figuring he should probably follow up. There was a chance it could be that girl. He put a little more pep in his step then, gathering his bag and leaving to the corridor.
He turned to see the Slytherin boy from class and sighed, walking straight to him. "Heya mate," Oliver said, moving to shake his hand. "Oliver O'Shea, I've seen you around but didn't realize you were Loce. To be perfectly honest, thought yer were that wicked gorgeous blonde waitin' for me. Shame. Shud 'av tart." He chuckled, no qualms about sharing. Oliver figured the boy might want some Quidditch lessons or something. He stood about the boy's height, both tall. "What's the craic?"
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Post by Loce Vaisey on Mar 21, 2023 19:01:10 GMT -8
Loce pushed off the wall as the Gryffindor finally emerged from the classroom. He took his proffered hand. He grinned at his description of Anneli, he couldn’t disagree with that assessment. “Loce Vaisey. Well I am technically blond, but…” He ran his fingers through his hair pushing his bangs out of his eyes. “ Just thought I’d drop you a bit of friendly advice, don’t be so obvious eh?” He shrugged. Not that he had a chance with Anneli anyway… but that would come as the conversation progressed. Right now he was trying to feel this one out. See what he could glean. Quidditch player, seemed to be the most going for him at the moment though. “I mean, you’ve got your sister here right? At least I assume the little Ravenclaw sitting with you was your sister. How’d you think she’d feel if someone stared at her like that?”.
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Oliver Seán O'Shea
Gryffindor
5th Year - Slytherin Captain/Beater - What's it ter yer?
Posts: 89
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Post by Oliver Seán O'Shea on Mar 21, 2023 19:34:10 GMT -8
Don’t be so obvious? It clicked then. The subtlety of English nuances at times gave him more trouble than brewing wiggenweld potions. Oliver laughed, patting Loce’s chest heartily, “Tanks, mate. Friendly or not, I’m not wan for advice on de ladies.” He placed his hands at his waist, eyeing Loce, “We shud al' go by our own style.. Besides, oi tink oi 'av a fair shot, regardless how obvious I am.” Oliver said, shrugging and looking down the corridors momentarily. As a couple of strangler students passed by them, Oliver nodded and smiled. “It’s been working at laest so far, mate. Tink oi 'av me eyes set on that one in class. Bleedin' beauty, that one is.”
He turned to Loce upon mentioning his sister. Oliver wasn’t overly defensive, still the mention of her annoyed him a bit. Who was this guy? “That little Ravenclaw’s me sister, yes.” Oliver’s voice more stern. “She’d belt ‘em a new one. Or hex 'em, whichever came first. Small but mighty, Niamh is.” He said plainly before letting out a chuckle. “Assuming the beauty isn’t your sister, I’d place a wager I’ll 'av 'er in the broom shed by the holidays...”
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Post by Loce Vaisey on Mar 21, 2023 19:58:33 GMT -8
Loce took a step back, swallowing the impulse to hex him, or worse. His arrogance rivaled Fergus’. What was in the water here anyway? His jaw clenched as he spoke about Anneli, but deferred for now. Anneli was… well Anneli. Beautiful, yes, but that wouldn’t stop her from knocking this kid into the next century if he didn’t watch his step. He toyed with the idea of giving him some false hope just to see it, but just shook his head instead. “She is out of your league mate, best to let that fantasy alone.”
“Well that explains a lot… Seriously, you’d not stand up for your sister? I was just trying to be friendly mate, no girl worth having wants a panting dog at their feet.”
At his last comment Loce tensed, a million thoughts chasing each other through his mind. Watch your step here, you get kicked out again... At least it would be for a good reason. His fists clenched at his sides and he straightened up to his full height before glaring at Oliver. “Look, she’s our team captain, our team is our family. So, I’m going to say this once, and only once. Stay away.” He couldn’t tell if this kid had a death wish or not…. But if he did… Loce might just be able to oblige.
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Oliver Seán O'Shea
Gryffindor
5th Year - Slytherin Captain/Beater - What's it ter yer?
Posts: 89
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Post by Oliver Seán O'Shea on Mar 21, 2023 21:14:27 GMT -8
Oliver raised an eyebrow at the lad as he stepped back. He suspected he had touched a sore spot. Maybe a past rejection or something other. He chuckled at the mention of her being out of his league, “Too right, she’s far more attractive and clearly smarter than I. Makes it al' the more better when she’s makin' oyt witcha later.” Oliver wasn’t sure what the lad was getting on about. Easily offended here, he thought passively, moving to create some depth between the two.
“That’s quite the assumption for someone who hadn’t met not two seconds before.” He said laughing, “Of course oi would, though I believe Niamh is capable al' 'er own.” Oliver paused, eyeing Loce curiously, “Fine, mate. I’ll take it yer were bein' friendly.” He smiled, looking past the boy’s shoulder, “Maybe not. But any lassy worth 'avin' deserves a pantin' dag at 'ers. Aren’t we al' panting in a way, mate?” This year was to be a lot different. Everyone was grown and emotions were bound to rage stronger. “Let the girl decide which dog to take.” He said, shrugging.
He watched as Loce’s face turned sour, tensing and turning toward him. Oliver postured forward quickly, his hands, which previously dangled casually, now curled into fists themselves. He had needed to learn to defend himself, both in the muggle world and this one. “Team Cap, eh?” Oliver said, more gritty now, “Sure 'ill be nice when all the captains meet for the yearly Captain Dinner. Jist four seats dare, isn’t it? I’m sure we’ll be sittin’ fairly close then. Gryffindor Captain an' Slytherin Captain together, 'as a nice rin' ter it. Doesn’t hurt to eat forbidden fruit nigh an' den.” He looked up to the air as if to ponder, scratching his head, “..Is she your girlfriend then, mate?” He asked directly. Oliver hadn’t backed down, the boys eyes staring almost directly at each other.
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Post by Loce Vaisey on Mar 21, 2023 23:01:48 GMT -8
Loce rolled his eyes as Oliver spoke about making out with her. He was torn between laughing at him and wanting to deck him. Although, watching him make a fool of himself could be more interesting… There was no way Anneli would even give this prat a second thought. That at least let him keep his composure. “You’re missing the point mate. Your sister maybe perfectly capable of defending herself, but she shouldn’t have to. It’s called respect. And everything that has come out of your mouth since we started talking shows a complete lack of respect for all women, including your sister.” It was guys like this that gave them all a bad reputation. He wondered briefly what his home life was like. If he would have said anything even remotely like what he’d been spewing here, both his mother and his grandmother would have set him straight. That might be one of the only things they agreed on. Loce took a deep breath, steading himself. Forbidden Fruit That was probably the best description he’d had, although not for the same reason he may have implied. l Was she his girlfriend? It was none of his damn business. “It doesn’t matter if she is or isn’t. What matters is your level of disrespect. I would suggest just dialing it back.” He shrugged, let him figure it out for himself.
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Oliver Seán O'Shea
Gryffindor
5th Year - Slytherin Captain/Beater - What's it ter yer?
Posts: 89
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Post by Oliver Seán O'Shea on Mar 22, 2023 17:49:13 GMT -8
Oliver was becoming exhausted with how often Loce was referring to his sister. The boy wrecked of bravado. He spoke at him like he were lesser, as if his authority were the end all, be all. Oliver shook his head, his eyebrows arched over grey-green eyes that now appeared darkened, annoyed. This kid had absolutely no idea of the fight in him, the time spent defending his siblings amongst their squalor on the dirt roads of Wexford. Coming to Hogwarts was a fight itself, trudging through students with golden chips on their shoulders, entitlement thick as cliffs, and an inclination to be dense as rock.
“Assumptions are makin’ a melter of ya.” He said laughing, “She wud never need to defend ‘erself, if she couldn’t or didn’t choose ter ‘erself. Dare seems to be a stark difference in our definitions av respect, mucker..” Oliver paused, almost sneering at the kid, “Oi give her the respect to decide for ‘erself whether it’s ‘er time ter scrap or not. Battles, won or lost, lessons. I’m assumin’ you’d prefer oi act as some enforcer av protection over ‘er? Never let ‘er scrap ‘er knee or stand up ter a bully? Seems healthy.” He shrugged, wondering why this boy was so flustered by his mere ogle at the stunning blonde in class. Oliver laughed, “Ah, roi. My lack of respect for women.” He rolled his eyes. His attraction toward the girl hadn’t come close to disrespect, not in his mind.
“Scarlet for ya,” Oliver folded his arms, leaning back against the stone wall. “I’d be embarassed defendin’ a lassy not even me own enoof to call me girlfriend.” He said looking past him, “Made a mockery av yerself an’ it’s not even game time yet. Wonder ‘oy this attitude ‘ill translate on the pitch.” He said, chuckling. “...That kind av lassy doesn’t seem de type ter desire a guy lookin’ to dial it back.” Oliver looked to Loce, more confidently, waiting to see what this poshboy would say. He had his wand, mind and fists in any case. Oliver wasn’t going to be controlled by some new Slytherin, who seemed easy to offend. If anything, it emboldened him.
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Post by Loce Vaisey on Mar 22, 2023 22:45:09 GMT -8
This was getting old, fast. He could see very well why he hadn’t been placed in Ravenclaw… mate didn’t have the common sense of a Bowtruckle. He shifted the strap on his bag and listened as the boy tried to bait him. Loce smirked, thinking that if anyone had acted this way last year… he would have ended up in detention. But this year was different… no, not the year, the girl was different. The relationship was different. Loce just shook his head as the boy continued posturing. “You’ve still completely missed the point. And, as such it is not worth my time to continue this battle of wits when my opponent is so poorly armed.”
“I never said she was not my girlfriend. What I said was it did not matter if she was or not. I find it honestly none of your business what our relationship is.” Every sentence that came out of this boys mouth just made him seem that much more… boorish. His disregard for anything but his own arrogance was annoying.
Loce pushed the hair from his eyes and narrowed them at Oliver. “Since this conversation is going nowhere but over your head… I’ll see you on the pitch.” He straightened up and began to walk away, before remembering to take a page from Fergus’ book. He turned around and looked at Oliver. “And, before I forget, 10 points from Gryffindor for you complete lack of respect for our female students.” He turned again and headed towards his next class.
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Oliver Seán O'Shea
Gryffindor
5th Year - Slytherin Captain/Beater - What's it ter yer?
Posts: 89
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Post by Oliver Seán O'Shea on Mar 23, 2023 9:50:39 GMT -8
Oliver laughed, “Battle of wits? Is that what this wus?” He shook his head, chuckling, “I must 'av been mistaken. I thought it was a one-sided cryin' session. It’s alright, we can still be friends.” His tone factitious. Oliver didn’t care much for the boy’s attitude, it was sprinkled with entitlement and an air of well-to-do. He had never gotten along with the type, usually preferring their girlfriends over ‘em.
He shook his head, “Don’t git into a huff about it, mate.” Oliver half-smiled, “If she actually even likes you, you'll 'av nathin' ter worry about…right?” He understood he could get under skin if he really had a desire to. “I was mindin' me own business,” Oliver shrugged, grinning cheekily at the kid. “Until you brought that looker closer ter me attention.” He had no need to back down. Oliver wasn’t in the wrong, not this time. “I suppose I’ll git ter take a more detailed look on the pitch anyway…” Both of his playing style and of the sly Slytherin minx. Oliver just simply wasn’t worried. He hadn’t much to lose, anyway.
Oliver rolled his eyes as the kid started to walk away. He wasn’t expecting such a namby-pamby presence after the excitement of the first DATDA class. “Ay!” He yelled toward the boy, who had turned to walk away. His voice echoing down the hallway. “10 points, really mucker?” Oliver kicked off the wall to stand staring toward the back of his arrogant head. He paused for a moment, wishing he hadn’t let Gryffindor down. He liked everyone in his house enough, though he was sure they’d understand making a valid point to a seemingly power-hungry Slytherin. “She must taste as gran' as she looks…” He smirked. Something must be different for a guy to be acting this ridiculous. Oliver folded his arms, perfectly fine with any outcome.
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Post by Loce Vaisey on Mar 23, 2023 21:41:05 GMT -8
Loce smirked as he heard the Gryffindor yell after him. Having used every ounce of self-control to keep his hands still when he itched to go for his wand, this bit of outrage from the boy was worth it. Then he spoke again and Loce stopped dead in his tracks, fists balling at his sides. That wast the last straw. He was at his breaking point. A list of spells and curses surged through is mind, whirled and tumbled over each other finally landing on the Imperious curse. Unforgivable, perhaps, but then again so were his words, at least in Loce’s mind. His hand shot to his wand and he started to take step back, to turn and confront the boy. But he suddenly stilled, the memory of a light hand on his chest giving him the strength to rally. He swallowed hard, took a deep breath then purposely strode down the hall and out of sight.
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