sortinghat_rp | 13 Smuppets; Text

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Essays.

I'm sure you all just fucking love essays, don't you? Well it's been too long since I assigned one and considering my last assignment mysteriously went missing, that's what you're gonna get. So pick a language of your choice, I don't even care which one. It could be pig Latin for all I care at this point.

Got your language picked out?

Write me ten inches on why people suck.

The first person to complain about this assignment gets 100 points taken away, so just shut up and do it.

Whoever has the most compelling argument on why people suck gets 150 points and the essay blown up and stuck in the entrance hall for everyone to see every day.

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I wasn't aware that you were the sort of person who pushed jaded views onto students whilst threatening to punish them for objections in the same post for no good reason.
So I suppose I really don't know you at all.

You don't.
People suck.
It's a fact of goddamn LIFE. A fact that they need to start learning right the fuck now, because you know what? It saves them a whole lot of hurt on down the line. If that's jaded, then it isn't my fault. It's just how the world works.

That feeling of not knowing me, though? It couldn't be anymore fucking mutual if it tried.

It isn't a fact of life, it's a damn jaded opinion of life. If I had my way, I'd have students writing essays on why their opinions aren't even worth the effort it takes to verbalise them, but I'm not about to abuse my power to make a point.

You can't blame me for that.

Why the hell can't I blame you for that? You wait until you've fucking got me in every single way. Until I'm so hopelessly wrapped around your finger. Until I look at you and suddenly it's like nothing else fucking exists.

And then you tell me you've always fucking thought you were better than me.

I can blame you for that.

I do blame you for that.

You say that, yet you were so damn willing to throw it away without sparing me half a chance to defend myself or explain myself.

Maybe I was abrasive, or rude even. Maybe it wasn't my place to admit it. But maybe, just maybe, that might have been overlooked if your pride hadn't been hurt by my honesty in the situation.

I thought that admitting that in spite of everything I'm still head over my fucking heels in love with you would be enough to prove that it doesn't matter at all.

Pride.

You're blaming this on my fucking pride?

[He just stares at the page for several long moments in anger, completely surpassing disbelief this time around.]

My pride has nothing to do with this. The problem is you have really fucking retarded, not to mention dated views on the entire thing. You have pure blood, but how the hell does that ever make you better than someone? I know plenty of Muggleborns who could kick your ass. I could kick your fucking ass if I wanted to. The fucking point is you're not better just because you have fucking pure blood. It's an old and disgusting prejudice and I honestly thought you of all people would be above it.

That isn't even getting into the personal aspect of the entire goddamn thing. The fact you think that you're better than me. Your boyfriend- or can I even call you that anymore after this, when you still just don't fucking get it?

We were supposed to be equal. I thought we were. I thought the feeling of equality was mutual. If I'd known...

The issue is you just don't fucking see the goddamn problem. You honestly think you did me a FAVOR by admitting it. After throwing in my face my supposed inferiority. No. That shit doesn't fly. So don't treat me like the bad guy for not forgiving you for being a complete and total dickwad. You're not the victim here, no matter how much you want to convince yourself that you are.

No. Actually. Pureblood or not, I've been professionally trained as an auror. I'm more than capable of kicking anyone's ass.

I

I don't feel as if this is a conversation we should be having over the journals, Dirk, private or not. Do you think perhaps it would make more sense for the two of us to meet somewhere privately and discuss it like adults? It can be in your office, if you aren't comfortable in mine. Or on neutral ground, if you'd prefer.

~~I would really like to see you~~

It seems as if it's for the best right now.

[Murdoc's first words really piss him off. He hates the way Murdoc is STILL coming off as superior even after everything he said. He wants to prove him wrong, but honestly doing that probably isn't the best idea. Especially when the thought of seeing Murdoc makes him sick right now.]

If you honestly think there's any chance of me wanting to see you right now, then you're stupid. You still don't get it, and that much is painfully fucking obvious.

So consider that a 'no'.

Unless you want me to prove to you the fact that I actually can kick your ass. That much I'm willing to do.

[Ugh. Okay. No. This is the opposite of what he wanted and of what Dolores advised him to do.

However. The idea of seeing Dirk is enough to tempt him into agreeing. Even if he's self concious about the dent in his nose that nobody can see but him.]

Name a place and I'll be there.

[He...

Hadn't really expected Murdoc to agree to it. Now he sort of regrets offering, but there's no fucking way in hell he's going to back out of it now.]

The forest.

That way no one can bother us.

Alright.

[It takes him a little while to get there. He doesn't want to admit that most of the conversations had been written from his bed, which he had crawled into the instant he was able to.

He makes it there eventually, trying to look perfectly put together and not utterly broken inside.]

[Bro is the first one there. He's allowed the idea of a challenge to guide him, not giving in to any of the stupid feelings that he might have. He's moving on pure Strider instinct alone at this point. Were he to stop and really think about this, he probably would decide it's not worth it. But he isn't allowing himself to do that.

He doesn't stop at the forest, he just goes right in. Murdoc is a trained auror, after all. He should be fucking good at tracking. If he really is that good, then he should be able to find him no problem. So he just makes his way through until he's sure that he's gone far enough, and until he's made it to somewhere fairly open.

And Murdoc does find him, which doesn't really surprise him. When Murdoc arrives, he shoots him a nasty look, though the only indicator is how his lips curl up. It hurts. It hurts to regard someone he'd come to love in such a disgusting way, but he can't help it. He just... hurts. Because he wants to see him the way he did before they had the fight, but right now he just can't and it really just fucking kills him.

After a few long moments of silence, he wordlessly reaches for his wand.]

[Murdoc is perfectly capable of tracking Dirk. Not just because he's a trained auror, but because hunting is something he takes a particular interest in. It only takes a simple spell and, of course, the ability to observe the subtle details like foot prints and the stench of hatred.

When he does find him, he doesn't want to address himself straight away. He wants to watch Dirk and see if he can pick up any vibes from the way he carries himself. He doesn't get much of a chance before he's shot a nasty look. He returns it with the most neutral stare he can manage. He doesn't want to return it and he doesn't want to pout like a baby, so neutral is the way to go.

He watches as Dirk reaches for his wand and clears his voice, speaking in a cold voice.]

I believe it's customary to shake hands before a duel.

[At Murdoc's words, he feels his stomach twist while at the same time irritation hits. His stomach twists because he's not used to hearing Murdoc speak to him in such a tone and it fucking hurts. It brings him back to before, when they disliked each other. It makes him think how different things used to be, how they'd changed, and... And how they seem to have suddenly gone back to before. It sucks, to say the very least. But there's nothing he can DO about it. It's up to Murdoc, and the fact he just can't fucking see how he's wrong here just... kills Bro. Because if it were up to him, he would've fixed it by now. Their relationship was worth more to him than that.

Or at least he thinks he would've. There's really no way to tell, considering it would require being in a situation where he's wrong, and since he has no problem with Murdoc being a pureblood, there's no way he can stand in Murdoc's shoes.

The reason it annoys him is because he doesn't want to have to shake Murdoc's hand. Call it childish, or maybe it's just because touching him would hurt right now. Maybe a mixture of both. But he just wants to get this over and done with. Shaking hands would just show respect that he isn't in the mood to give right now, because Murdoc hasn't respected him.

And you know what? He can say as much.]

I hardly think I owe you any respect when all you've done is disrespect me.

[Murdoc's tone is cold because he's afraid to give himself away. He's afraid of sounding too loving and thus, horribly pathetic toward Dirk. He'd tried speaking to him like that when the fight happened and it honestly hadn't gone well for him. Of course, the thought never occured to him to apologise, but it felt like Dirk didn't want to hear it.

He doesn't know why he has to, he doesn't understand why he can't just explain how he feels and be entitled to his opinion. Dirk is entitled to feel as if Pureblood's aren't entitled to their heightened status, that much is clear. Murdoc had just assumed that he knew how proud he was of his bloodline.

He wants to apologise, but he wants to know why he's doing it first. After that, he wants to be able to use the right words. If he tried it now, he's almost certain he'd manage to make more of a mess.

He resists the urge to roll his eyes and holds his hand out in front of him, fixing his eyes on Dirk's behind his shades.]

I never said I didn't respect you. I have nothing but respect for what you are.

Edited 2013-01-14 10:39 (UTC)

For what I am. As if I'm an animal. Something beneath you.

[He spits the words out angrily, because once again Murdoc just doesn't get it and he just really fucking desperately wants him to. The anger hits him in a wave and he just glares at the hand that Murdoc is holding out. He doesn't want to shake it. He doesn't want to look at it, even though he is. He doesn't want to be here. He just hates every fucking thing and he wants to go and fucking cry and punch things and then stop existing. Are those thoughts immature? Yes. But god, he cannot handle this.

But he can't go now. He's stupidly brought himself out here to prove something, and he's going to prove it no matter how he feels, because his pride will not allow him to back down from a challenge. He also really fucking hopes that if he can somehow win this, then Murdoc might... see differently, somehow. It's a stupid hope, and he should just go. But he fucking can't.

He's not going to shake the hand, though. The anger is still bubbling up instead, because it's either cry or be angry right now and he's not going to cry in front of Murdoc. And he's not giving Murdoc the respect that he wants, not when he's been disrespected so damn much.

So all of a sudden, he's flicking his wand at Murdoc instead.]

Stupefy!

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