Shiny! (Sock and Open RP)
Jezz had been at dinner in the Great Hall with a pile of library books that had worked free of its initial neat column, wearing a baggy sweater that served to conceal the gender bend he’d undergone at the holiday party. He’d kept what remained of the offending cider, though it had proved resistant to magical dissection, and a small sample of it sat in the original mug next to his plate as he alternated between eating, paging through text after text, and eying the Great Hall. He hadn’t seen Vhaeraun for some time and Jezz couldn’t say he was looking forward to their next meeting if he hadn’t found a cure yet.
There was a pitcher of apple juice on the table. He noticed it at the same time he saw Selvetarm enter from the corner of his eye, carrying another stack of books, and thought (if it could be called thought. Whimmed?) quickly. He picked up the pitcher and poured juice into both the cider mug and an empty one meant for coffee before turning toward the god (was he still?), who was quite close by now, and gesturing to the two mugs with an entirely genuine smile. “Ah, a fellow scholar.” He still wasn’t so great at the smooth facsimile of goodwill, that had always been Tzirik’s forte, but he thought he pulled it off well enough.
Later he wasn’t sure if he’d expected anything to come of it. Selvetarm would certainly be loath to accept a drink even given pick between two, and he might not even choose the one with cider in it - especially if he retained some power to read minds or the like (and Jezz would rather not contemplate that). But Selvetarm gave him a grin in return, put down his books, picked up the cider mug, and knocked it back.
Selvetarm, on his part, had been feeling recklessly cocky, perhaps with good reason. So his father’s follower was making an ill-concealed attempt to poison him? Poison couldn’t kill him here, and he remained immune to it anyway. But then, as Jezz had discovered to his grief, the enchanted cider didn’t seem to quite count as poison.
When Selvetarm lowered the mug, he was still grinning. That grin had become radiant, along with the rest of him, and silvery-blue motes of light had started to form in the vicinity. “Well met.”
“… well met,” Jezz managed, boggling. Maybe Selvetarm had become female underneath the red tunic (Jezz was not about to check), and he was taking it as a gift. Given his service to Lolth, it wasn’t that farfetched. Though it still didn’t explain the physical glow.
“Jezz Jaelre, was it?”
“It was. Is.”
Selvetarm gave him a long, considering, look. “Are you dancing the Changedance?”
Jezz unconsciously adjusted the sweater. “What? No.”
“I meant no offense. Your features and voice are slightly…” Selvetarm gestured vaguely. His hand left a trail of more motes in its wake. “There has been far too much offense as of late.” He looked down at the books he’d taken from the library and shook his head, looking troubled. Then he snapped his head up again and the grin was back in place. Motes whirled. “But today I will remedy that!”
Then he gathered up his books and ran out. Jezz commandeered a house elf to deliver his own pile to his room, muttered a spell of flight, and zipped after, curious as to what he had unleashed.
When he caught up Selvetarm had disposed of the books somewhere and in their place was toting a giant fruit basket and a box of chocolate. “The house elves are very helpful,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “They were just lovely about this. And the kitchens…”
Submerged under the subsequent stream of Selvetarm’s happy chatter, Jezz thought he heard the sound of his brain breaking.
A few staircases and corridors later he asked, “Are you going to eat all that yourself?”
“Oh! Oh no -” Selvetarm stopped short, looking around. “Speaking of which, I don’t suppose you could direct me to Slytherin?”
Jezz stopped in midair and looked around for himself. “Not from here.”
“Well then…” Selvetarm tipped his head to one side, in deep thought, while Jezz considered the reasons Selvetarm might want to find Slytherin in his current state and his brain threatened to shatter utterly. “I’ll just have to call a little friend of mine. That spell was wrong of me, I know that now, but perhaps it will serve a beneficial purpose.”
A spider popped into being on his hand and he spent some time chittering at it; Jezz could swear the spider was giving Selvetarm a funny look all the while. Then Selvetarm took out his dagger and sliced his own palm, coaxing the spider over the cut while chittering some more. Then the spider leapt from his hand and headed down the hallway. Selvetarm wiped off the dagger, put it away, and followed at a brisk clip; with the flight spell expired by now, Jezz limped after him.
((Backdated to shortly after the Little Green Apple party. Catch them anywhere between Slytherin and the Great Hall))
There was a pitcher of apple juice on the table. He noticed it at the same time he saw Selvetarm enter from the corner of his eye, carrying another stack of books, and thought (if it could be called thought. Whimmed?) quickly. He picked up the pitcher and poured juice into both the cider mug and an empty one meant for coffee before turning toward the god (was he still?), who was quite close by now, and gesturing to the two mugs with an entirely genuine smile. “Ah, a fellow scholar.” He still wasn’t so great at the smooth facsimile of goodwill, that had always been Tzirik’s forte, but he thought he pulled it off well enough.
Later he wasn’t sure if he’d expected anything to come of it. Selvetarm would certainly be loath to accept a drink even given pick between two, and he might not even choose the one with cider in it - especially if he retained some power to read minds or the like (and Jezz would rather not contemplate that). But Selvetarm gave him a grin in return, put down his books, picked up the cider mug, and knocked it back.
Selvetarm, on his part, had been feeling recklessly cocky, perhaps with good reason. So his father’s follower was making an ill-concealed attempt to poison him? Poison couldn’t kill him here, and he remained immune to it anyway. But then, as Jezz had discovered to his grief, the enchanted cider didn’t seem to quite count as poison.
When Selvetarm lowered the mug, he was still grinning. That grin had become radiant, along with the rest of him, and silvery-blue motes of light had started to form in the vicinity. “Well met.”
“… well met,” Jezz managed, boggling. Maybe Selvetarm had become female underneath the red tunic (Jezz was not about to check), and he was taking it as a gift. Given his service to Lolth, it wasn’t that farfetched. Though it still didn’t explain the physical glow.
“Jezz Jaelre, was it?”
“It was. Is.”
Selvetarm gave him a long, considering, look. “Are you dancing the Changedance?”
Jezz unconsciously adjusted the sweater. “What? No.”
“I meant no offense. Your features and voice are slightly…” Selvetarm gestured vaguely. His hand left a trail of more motes in its wake. “There has been far too much offense as of late.” He looked down at the books he’d taken from the library and shook his head, looking troubled. Then he snapped his head up again and the grin was back in place. Motes whirled. “But today I will remedy that!”
Then he gathered up his books and ran out. Jezz commandeered a house elf to deliver his own pile to his room, muttered a spell of flight, and zipped after, curious as to what he had unleashed.
When he caught up Selvetarm had disposed of the books somewhere and in their place was toting a giant fruit basket and a box of chocolate. “The house elves are very helpful,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “They were just lovely about this. And the kitchens…”
Submerged under the subsequent stream of Selvetarm’s happy chatter, Jezz thought he heard the sound of his brain breaking.
A few staircases and corridors later he asked, “Are you going to eat all that yourself?”
“Oh! Oh no -” Selvetarm stopped short, looking around. “Speaking of which, I don’t suppose you could direct me to Slytherin?”
Jezz stopped in midair and looked around for himself. “Not from here.”
“Well then…” Selvetarm tipped his head to one side, in deep thought, while Jezz considered the reasons Selvetarm might want to find Slytherin in his current state and his brain threatened to shatter utterly. “I’ll just have to call a little friend of mine. That spell was wrong of me, I know that now, but perhaps it will serve a beneficial purpose.”
A spider popped into being on his hand and he spent some time chittering at it; Jezz could swear the spider was giving Selvetarm a funny look all the while. Then Selvetarm took out his dagger and sliced his own palm, coaxing the spider over the cut while chittering some more. Then the spider leapt from his hand and headed down the hallway. Selvetarm wiped off the dagger, put it away, and followed at a brisk clip; with the flight spell expired by now, Jezz limped after him.
((Backdated to shortly after the Little Green Apple party. Catch them anywhere between Slytherin and the Great Hall))