(Untitled)

[lolita_damon]

Week Name/Date/Time: 'Join the Club' / Wednesday, 15th March 2006 / 9:00 PM
Location: 7th year Ravenclaw boys' dorm
Open To: Troy
Currently Involving: Lolita

Lolita now considered Noah Ogilvy to be Troy's partner-in-crime. Or a sort of henchman. Because as Troy was confined to his room up in the Ravenclaw dorms, the Frog had apparently sent Noah as a

Comments

[frogleygoof]

"Beatrix Kiddo? Kind of sounds. . .Nabokovian. . ." Troy smirked, knowing just how much Lolita hated him bringing up that novel of her namesake.

His brow furrowed a bit and he pouted up at her, sitting up a bit more straight now. "Well. . .yeah. I mean, they said at St. Mungo's I'd be all ready to play if I just stayed in bed until then. It's not craptastic," he whined childishly. "I'm team captain now. If I don't play, then. . .Davison'll just be laughing at me from overseas wherever she is. It's for appearances, Lolita. Besides, I've played Quidditch with a dislocated shoulder before."

His eyes did, however, light up the slightest bit as he heard her say she was worried. "Psh, I did not scare the 'bloody-hell' out of you. You couldn't be scared by. . .anyone." Just to be even more of a silly git, he had to go and pout at her, letting out a sarcastic little gasp, "Lolita? Were you worried about me? Worried about me being all right? You mean. . .you mean, you would care if I were in peril?!"

"I don't have a Freudian complex? That's all sexual anyways, Damon."

[lolita_damon]

The Nabokov reference fell on decidedly deaf ears. Lolita had turned her ears to the 'filter' option to unfailingly bleep out things she didn't want to hear. So far, the list contained 'Nabokov', 'Dolores', and 'pies'. Not joking.

"Yeah, because you know 'Beatrix Kiddo' and 'Dolores Haze' are practically homphones," she said dryly. Good job catching onto that one."

She shook her head determinedly--Troy Frogley was going to say the hell AWAY from the pitch whether he liked it or not, and most likely not. "Doctors are all insane. It must be a job requirement, because half of them are stoned half the time. It comes from inhaling all those hospital fumes. And YOU'VE had quite enough of that stuff already to fill a lifetime; you don't need to go back to St. Mungo's again for a Quidditch accident. The ONE time I'm NOT trying to kill you, you won't listen to me. Brilliant." She scowled at him in frustration. "And don't look oh-so-surprised. You make it seem as if murdering people is a hobby of mine. ...Wipe that look off your face or it soon WILL be."

Lolita cringed internally at Troy's word choice. 'Sexual' was a word that sounded rather ugly to her, more so than 'shite' and all related terms. Odd.

"Oh, but isn't that what you're all about?" she shot back with a smirk.

[frogleygoof]

Troy tilted his head to the side, "I meant the whole kid f. . .Um. Never mind. It's even more awkward," he stopped, scratching his head and rearranging the feathers on his owl's wing. "You know what I mean, don't you Bob, you cheeky owl you," he said to him, sitting on the nightstand, smirking, completely ignoring his owl actually turning away from him.

"I won't overexert myself or anything, really, I won't," Troy insisted. "It's against the Slytherins, man, no contest, and their old captain's done and croaked. . ." Oops. Wrong thing to say. "It's fine. I'm just gonna' be out there for support." He stopped for a second, feeding a piece of chocolate to his owl. "Are you going to be there watching me?" he asked Lolita, looking up at her and grinning.

Troy let out a boyish, sarcastic "HAR HAR HAR!" and leaned back, scratching at his stomach. "No, not anymore. Only gets a lad into trouble. I've changed my ways," he nodded, cringing a bit himself, about the whole Hanna Kensington fiasco. . . "Um, no. I'll leave that title to Hale."

[lolita_damon]

Kid f...? Lolita almost asked, but decided against it. There was ONE f-word word that came to mind when one was discussing Nabokov, kids, and Humbert Humbert, and Lolita--Damon, that is--didn't want to hear it.

Lolita held back a scoff as she watched Troy croon at his owl. Er, at Bob. It was a bit sad how people liked to name their owls, but perhaps it was her general lack of sensitivity talking.

"You're the Ravenclaw support system?" she wondered, amused. "You mean a cheerleader? Let me know how that goes, as I'll be as far away from the pitch as humanly possible to avoid the sight of you in a miniskirt." (Ew, brain-shudder.) That last bit answered his question of her attendance quite nicely.

What was THAT, chocolate? Lolita leaned forward and tried to snatch the candy out of Troy's hands. "What the... Can you REALLY feed chocolate to owls?" she asked, shocked, "Won't it kill them?" She was thinking back to her dog at home, how her parents had nearly killed it some two years previously by stuffing it full of holiday candy.

And there he went again with the I'm-different-now insistence. She would very much have liked to believe it all, but Troy seemed to contradict his words every three hours or so. "Ah, drop the sanctimonious act," she said, arms folded, raising an eyebrow at Troy. "I think Kensington and half the school can testify against your claims, yeah? Don't even bother to deny it."

[frogleygoof]

Troy looked up at her and quickly replied, "I'm the backbone of the team. The REST of the school are my cheerleaders. Nah. Noah's the only one who wears a skirt for us."

He let out a childish little "Whoa, whoa!" as she snatched for is hand, clenching it into a fist around the candy. "That's for dogs, says the stupid jock to Lolita Damned Damon," he quipped. "Owls can eat entire rats and cough up their BONES, do you really think they can't handle chocolate? Maybe Bob just has a stomach o'steel. His favourite's peanut butter truffles, actually." He crooned at his owl yet again, "Isn't it, Bob?"

Bob began to eat a piece of parchment lying on his nightstand. "Ah, see! He even eats paper!"

"I'm not being sanctimonious, I. . ." He turned a bit nauseous at hearing her speak of the Hanna Kensington fiasco. All he did was blink up at her, not having a follow-up. At all. He knew he couldn't very well just say Yes, and that was what opened up my eyes that I don't care about the easy flighty ones like her. I only like you. No, that wouldn't fly well. At all.

Even then, Troy had a feeling she wouldn't believe him.

He just sputtered and frowned. "I. . .Fine. Yeah. I am a horndog. And that's all I am. That'll explain why you were the only girl I care to ever see," he blurted out after a bit of thought.

[lolita_damon]

Ah, yes. The usual--confident, boastful, jocky Troy. Lolita would've been insanely worried during Troy's hospital stay, but she'd somehow blocked it out, convincing herself she wasn't that weak...or even weak at all. Largely by and by, it had been a success. No one had noticed and difference whatsoever in her attitude, except perhaps that it was worse. But then, most people took that without suspicions, anyway.

"Two things--first, enough with the 'damned'," she said, trying to pry the parchment from Bob's beak. "Second--when one's owl eats paper, one should stop it."

Lolita in fact hadn't mentioned Hanna Kensington before, and even now, was vaguely surprised that she had. She hadn't meant anything by it, of course (or that was what she resolutely thought)--it was just a comment meant to be scathing but casually in-passing, as was her trademark.

Er, no, in all probability, she wouldn't have believed such a claim from Troy. Six and a half years of listening to him had conditioned her to the apparent, perpetual, general untruthfulness of Troy's randomly-given praises. If Lolita thought about it, it would seem unfair to instantly dismiss every single freaking thing he said, but given his nature, it made sense to do so. Who said life was fair? And, more importantly, who said Lolita Damon was fair? Pssh.

[frogleygoof]

Odd thing about Lolita Damon, how she could ultimately change Troy's mood. Okay, so maybe it was an odd thing about Troy, if not the slightest bit pathetic. . .

Or a lot pathetic. . .

ANYWAYS. Where a compliment or half-smile or anything but a grimace from her could send his high-spirits soaring, so a frown or remark could crash it to the ground. And with her obviously knowing about the Kensington thing?

It plummeted.

At not hearing a word from her, Troy's eyes sank and he frowned right back at her. For once, he didn't want her around. He was starting to realize that maybe he didn't want her around as much. Nearly seven years and nothing from her.

Very unfair.

Troy stroked Bob's feathers to calm himself, and grabbed a half-eaten Get Well Soon note from his family back in Hackney. "Well. Good visit," he grumbled, turning on his side, facing away from her, wishing partly she'd leave. "Best be on your way now."

[lolita_damon]

Oh, and there he had to go again, with his gloomy mopey moments, and some people said Lolita was temperamental? Obviously they didn't know Troy. These...issues of Troy's were undeniably infuriating to Lolita, no matter how much she wished she could shrug them off an pretend she didn't care. Maybe she did care; maybe she did feel bad about whacking him upside the head all the time.

What was she supposed to say now? Apparently something had just deflated Troy's bubble of happy. Dammit, he should've learned to store happy in an armored truck by now--hadn't he realised already?

"Be on my way...and go where?" she said simply, admitting to a semblance of pathetic-drifter-slash-outcast-status for (what she thought was) the first time. As far as she knew, she liked to steer away from talking about her distance from...well, people.

"What's wrong?" she said blankly, just buying time. She was still trying to work out if she should go the pissy road and tell him off, or go the sympathetic road and be sentimental. Ha. Suuure. She settled on a neutral response instead. "What is it now? You're lucky to be alive, Davison's gone, you're taking her spot as captain, you haven't recently been jumped by a sixth year Gryff...what could bloody be wrong NOW?"

[frogleygoof]

Troy didn't like being called "sanctimonious" over that, not at all. He didn't like being belittled over something he thought was important. Maybe it was stupid to think of it as important, but he believed it changed him for the better. Sure, it was naive for him to think that. Yet he had always been innocently optimistic, and maybe it was stupid for him to hope for this one bird.

Maybe Thatcher was right. Maybe she was hopeless.

Snuggling into his pillow childishly, he murmured, "I dunno. If you're just gonna' criticize me, wait until I'm one-hundred percent better. Come back tomorrow morning or summat."

At her asking what was wrong, Troy turned his head a bit and pulled the blankets up a bit, looking at her with an expression that seemed to convey 'What do you care?' "I don't like the whole Hanna Kensington thing being brought up. It's embarrassing. Especially since. . .it's getting in the way of. . ."

Troy trailed off, giving Lolita a pointed look, as if she was the answer.