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Post by MONET ANAIS GANT on Nov 26, 2011 21:05:13 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][div style="border: solid;-moz-border-radius: 300px;[br"]border-radius: 200px; background-image: url(http://i1088.photobucket.com/albums/i337/lacieejaneexx/600full-nina-agdal.jpg); height: 400px; width: 400px; -moz-border-radius: 250 250 250 250; -webkit-border-radius: 250 250 250 250;][style=background-color:#F8F8FF ; width: 230px; height: 120px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 190px; -moz-border-radius:1 1 1 1; -webkit-border-radius: 1 1 1 1; opacity: 0.8; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; text-align: justify; padding: 10px; overflow: auto;]She felt empty without the presence of someone beside her or alcohol sizzling in the pit of her stomach. Monet had shooed James away after he had woken her up from a restless nap. Usually, she would have pulled him in to cuddle with her but he had been sopping wet from quidditch practice. Sleep had been a trickster after she had fallen out of its trance once, thanks to the sob known as James Potter. An absence of company would usually have driven Monet to seek out alcohol to feel the void. A drunken experience with a few men had repelled the thought of having her hands grasp a bottle. For the first time in ages Monet would have to brave against the loneliness.
The Gryffindor tower was not the place she wanted to spend the Saturday afternoon. All morning she had been lounging around, finding constructive ways to keep her mind at ease. Such menial things could only fend off the rolling sea of thoughts for so long. James had gone trolling along, leaving the common room to fall quiet in an instant. Monet’s own devices fell useless than and she knew that she would need to put more effort into being consumed.
Not a single idea seemed to bubble in her mind. Empty, white space was the only thing that greeted her when she peeked into her own thoughts. Nothing wanted to work out for her lately, not even her own brain. Monet grimaced, restlessly turning on the plush couch, suddenly feeling greatly uncomfortable. Either she had to leave now or an endless session of whining would be spooned to all of her dorm mates. As if they weren’t intolerant of the Gant girl already.
It was too cold out. Not actually biting temperature but enough to give Monet a bout of unpleasant chills. Quidditch matches were the only time she would wander out of the castle when winter settled down. She was confined to the castle. There was an expansive amount of rooms but Monet couldn’t be fully satisfied. Ever. In each direction there had to be a handful of places she had yet to discover but she would surely claim that it was all too boring.
Effort was put into rolling her way off the couch to find the energy to exit the common room. Because of her tiredness Monet had nearly caught her foot on the painting entrance. She scowled, tramping through the hall with the sour look pasted to her face. There was only a single place in the whole castle that could possibly lighten her mood the slightest.
It was the trophy room that actually filled a lot of Monet’s time, between crawling into it after a wasted night and simply stopping by because she needed to see a tangible thing that had her father’s name engraved onto it. She peered around furtively before actually entering the trophy room. Some ignoramus would question her motive, since she actually had no reason to be in the trophy room. A snappy remark would have been response, but the corridor was deserted, so she slipped in with ease. Her body gravitated directly towards the left wall of awards, on the right corner up on the third shelf. Monet felt no shame was she pressed her hands to the glass, leaning her face in to read ‘Jude Cassius Grant’ on the head boy plaque.
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Post by audric on Dec 4, 2011 22:08:16 GMT -5
 Audric began to doze off in the Gryffindor Common Room after finishing his homework. His seventh year at Hogwarts was proving to be a bit more difficult than he thought. Difficult didn't seem to be the right word though. It was more like, tedious that came in large quantities. Setting down his quill that was warm from his hand, Audric leaned back in the chair he was sitting in and his eyes closed. He wouldn't be able to fully fall asleep with all the extra noise, but it felt good to just close his eyes and give them a rest from staring at a piece of parchment and his chicken-scratch notes.
But the room was much quieter for some reason and when he opened one eye to see what was going on, Audric noticed that a certain someone was absent from the space: Jame Potter. Raising his eyebrows and a faint shrug, Audric closed his eyes once again. Audric was just glad he wasn't missing anything too interesting. The Gryffindor Common Room held many fights with friends, both men and women. Audric had a sick way of loving the scenes. Breathing deeply, Audric couldn't help but open his eyes every now and then to the sound of the portrait being opened and closed. After hearing someone fall off the couch across the room, Audric squeezed his eyes shut tightly out of frustration and opened them in a snap. His eyes went to the place where the person should have fallen to, but the ground beneath the couch was empty. Catching sight of a back of a girl, Audric leaned away from the chair to catch sight of who it was since she looked familiar. She looked to be in a drunken stupor and Audric was suddenly very amused. Standing out of the chair, he decided to follow her.
His bare feet his the stone cold floor and he cursed himself for not wearing socks like normal people. Making sure to keep a safe distance from her, Audric didn't want to look like she was stalking her. If he was caught, he could always play it off as him trying to make sure she was ok since she basically almost tripped out the portrait hole. At least, the noises from the girl made it sound like she did so. Taking a stroll, Audric had been here seven years and knew the castle from head to toe. Being best friends with James Potter did its wonders. He didn't mind when she disappeared around a corner or staircase since when he turned the corner, Audric still knew where she was going. Her feet weren't loud against the floor so it was hard for Audric to hear very well. But since Audric did have a good sense of hearing, he could barely make out the faint noises of feet meeting the ground. Man I'm good at stalking. Audric thought with a smirk and had to muffle his snicker.
He found himself in the Great Hall and saw the door to the trophy room close ever so gently. Quickly walking over to the door, Audric pressed his ear against the wooden door, like he was expecting to hear something. What he was trying to accomplish, Audric wasn't very sure. Turning the knob very, very slowly, Audric opened the door just as slowly, trying not to make a lot fo noise. Walking down the stairs, Audric arrived to the trophy room where he leaned up against the wall, watching Monet. He should've guessed that it was Monet. A slight frown came to his lips. They used to be the best of friends. She has changed a lot since they were friends. Ever since the death of her father, Monet was never the same. She resorted to drinking her sorrows away and Audric pitied the poor girl. Crossing his arms, Audric just stood there watching.
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Post by MONET ANAIS GANT on Dec 5, 2011 15:54:37 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][div style="border: solid;-moz-border-radius: 300px;[br"]border-radius: 200px; background-image: url(http://i1088.photobucket.com/albums/i337/lacieejaneexx/600full-nina-agdal.jpg); height: 400px; width: 400px; -moz-border-radius: 250 250 250 250; -webkit-border-radius: 250 250 250 250;][style=background-color:#F8F8FF ; width: 230px; height: 120px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 190px; -moz-border-radius:1 1 1 1; -webkit-border-radius: 1 1 1 1; opacity: 0.8; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; text-align: justify; padding: 10px; overflow: auto;]An abandoned child resided in the sizable hole that had once upon a time contained Monet’s soul. Unexpectedly her father had been torn from her life, taking with him any sense of humanity that his daughter had ever possessed. His presence had been the tether Monet had to civility, manners, and a hope for a future as bountiful as the man that had raised her. Overflowing love fed Monet, paired along with Jude’s adoration of the lone reminder he had of his late wife. Death had swooped down silently to abduct to the two pillars of stability that had kept her standing sure and strong. Weakened and hopeless was revealed as the true state of the girl who had once carried herself with pride that blazed like a beacon. Drinking her torment was the only solution Monet knew to turn to when the world shut her out to fix their hungry stares on Astor Delcroix. The orphan child of the minister who administered peace and based his policies on general understanding quickly had evolved into news moved to the back page of the Daily Prophet. Ignorance only further fueled Monet to turn to extreme ways to achieve the attention she had been deprived of as a harsher world set in around her
Gazing at the plaque of her father’s name, shining as if it now embodied the brilliance the corpse had left behind in the living world, rooted somberness deep within Monet. Tears failed to be summoned in the moment where Monet would have expected them make an unwanted appearance. Over the course of close to half a year she supposed that her ducts had run dry from constant usage. Monet curling up on her bed, hugging the business jacket of her father, and sobbing out roughly had been a common occurrence at the beginning of the year. Emotions had become something hallow now, with the numbing effect of the events that were unfolding within the Wizarding World. Desperation and agony had become her two main emotions, spiced with the occasional spoonful of flare. She would have to put on an unbelievable front to convince the castle she had the ability to fall back into her former self. Where was the breezy, laidback Monet who would only rely upon irritation when facing something that caused her to turn intolerant. It would have been something of a miracle to have that girl remerge from the shambles of the genuine version of Monet.
Audric trailing after her was something that Monet had been oblivious to throughout her whole trek of the castle. He had been padding after her with interest, something that she would have caught onto if her state hadn’t been so dazed. Indifference would have been the only thing Audric would have faced if Monet had acknowledged his presence before reaching the Trophy Room. No sort of care remained when it came to how other people perceived her any longer.
Surprisingly, once Audric’s opinion would have placed highly on Monet’s list of concerns and priorities. Sometime in what felt like a lifetime ago he had been a close friend to Monet, ranking in the same position that James still rested. Jude’s death had crushed Monet with depression causing a state that Audric seemed to be unable to handle. All of her emotions, unexplainable sadness, and everything else that rolled up into depression sent Audric flying towards the hills. There was no resentment held against Audric in Monet’s heart for the lack of activity he played in her life. Had she the chance to have an out of body experience to peek at herself the months following her father’s death she wouldn’t have wanted to be around such a person either.
Hazy alarm set over Monet at the gentle clicking of the door pulling open. Pulling her face away from the glass nearly caused her physical pain, since she was so eager to have a twisted sort of quality time with her father. A grimace set on her face, creating hard lines, at the notice of Audric hovering by the Trophy Room door. He seemed oddly content to awkwardly hover over Monet while she stared at nothing more than a silly award. “You can kindly leave, I don’t want you here,” her flat tone said to him, fighting to remain absent of any emotion.
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Post by audric on Dec 11, 2011 13:52:04 GMT -5
This moment was too fragile to joke around. If Monet had been a guy, Audric would've been able to go up to "him" and slap "him" on the back to tell "him" that "he" needed to get "his" life back together. But Monet was a woman and Audric knew that she was a woman without her mother or father. She was an orphan. Audric was never one to feel sympathy for others since he thought it was their fault for the condition of their lives. Obviously they could do something about how they felt. Audric just shoved his feelings aside and wasn't sure why others couldn't as well, but he couldn't help but feel a stab of pain as he saw Monet's face. He wanted to look away from her face, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from her eyes. Oh her eyes were like a mirror to her soul: sorrow and anguish.
And then she spoke, but no emotion shone in her voice. That's when he looked down to the ground. Uncrossing his arms, Audric went to scratch his head. He could turn away now to leave her in her sorrows like he had in the past year, or he could stay here and work things out. The first option sounded more pleasant and his feet must've liked it better as well since they began to walk back up the stairs to the door. Slowly but surely, Audric quietly walked to the door, but then stopped with his hand on the handle. He stood there staring at the wood of the door. He didn't want to have to leave Monet behind again like he did when her father died. Audric may be a heartless soul, but he was a Gryffindor and he couldn't stand by and watch Monet like this.
Turning around, Audric slowly walked back to where he was standing before. Adjusting his glasses, Audric stared at Monet again. Walking a bit closer, Audric focused his eyes on the trophy she was staring at. Jude Cassius Gant the trophy read. Ah, he should've known she was down her to wallow in the past. Should he be harsh and tell it to her plainly? Or just go slowly? Why did he even have to ask himself that? Sighing, Audric wasn't sure where to start. He was never good at these fragile situations, but he knew he had to face it now. "Oh Monet... Audric said softly. He walked a bit closer, testing the waters. "I not leaving this time." he said. He was at lost for words. Where was he going to start? Oh sorry Monet that I abandoned you when you needed me most. No, Audric wouldn't be able to say that since he knew that she and him would never be like they used to be.
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Post by MONET ANAIS GANT on Dec 11, 2011 16:22:31 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][div style="border: solid;-moz-border-radius: 300px;[br"]border-radius: 200px; background-image: url(http://i1088.photobucket.com/albums/i337/lacieejaneexx/600full-nina-agdal.jpg); height: 400px; width: 400px; -moz-border-radius: 250 250 250 250; -webkit-border-radius: 250 250 250 250;][style=background-color:#F8F8FF ; width: 230px; height: 120px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 190px; -moz-border-radius:1 1 1 1; -webkit-border-radius: 1 1 1 1; opacity: 0.8; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; text-align: justify; padding: 10px; overflow: auto;]What kind of best mate up and abandoned their mate during the time that proved to be most trying for them? James Potter, the most fleeting soul in all of the castle, had put on his game face and glued himself to Monet's side during the first few rough months. Audric, who had also been expected to stand on her other side tall and proud, had left her to nearly topple over without his support. Whore squared had been the only thing left out of the trio that had once dominated over the house of Gryffindor. His abandonment was not something she had been able to recover from, actually she hadn't even lent much thought to the subject. Once important, now he was being swept under the rug in hopes that no one would notice she had not dealt with the issue. Pain had throbbed at first from the spot where Audric had cleanly separated all relations with the girl known as Monet Gant. Time continued on and slowly her problems evolved into things larger than fretting over the absence of a lost friend. Eventually Audric Pritchard had become completely irrelevant to Monet.
When the words had left her mouth a tiny fraction of herself was beginning to question the overall genuineness of what she had said. A wound that healed over for nearly six months had been poked at, resurfacing pain and memories she surely did not want to forwardly have to handle. But at the same time Monet was finally catching a glimpse of one of her closest mates that had carried her through nearly all stages of live. Excluding James Potter, Audric was the sole soul that Monet felt she could wholly pour her heart and soul into. She had finally accepted he had no further desires to interact with her after the death of her father had occurred. Whatever imperfect balance she had fooled herself into believing was now being upset, even as Audric continued to carry himself towards the door. A simple stare between the two of them had shifted everything Monet had established on the assumed foundation of their severed friendship. He could not do such a thing, it would not be allowed. When he passed through the door and traveled down the corridor then she could scurry to reform her thoughts, once again crossing Audric out of the equation.
A relieved breath came from Monet as Audric crept closer to the door, only to be knocked out of her when he turned around to slink back towards her. Her fingers would have started to shake with frustration if she hadn't rushed to put them work by feeling along the edge of her sweater. She couldn't look at him any longer, he had a stare on his face that told Monet he could peer directly into her soul. The contents of her soul were not his to know, especially after a six month vacation from the soap opera that had turned into her life. He spoke to her and something close to an acidic taste settled in her mouth, brought upon what he was saying to her. She would laughed if her throat hadn't suddenly turned to be as dry as the desert. "What's to keep you from turning around and walking right out of that door again, just like you were about to do?" Her words were directly spoken to him, with an overwhelming force, even though she was not glancing at him. "You were needed six months ago, Audric, not now. There is nothing calling you back to me, asking to have you back in my life. You can gladly go along your merry way. I don't need you," she said levelly to him, her words steeled over.
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Post by audric on Dec 12, 2011 17:59:41 GMT -5
When was the last time he even talked to her? He just couldn't handle all that emotion and Audric panicked. He would admit to panicking and would clearly state it to Monet if he had to. After his panic, he wasn't sure how to come back since in Audric's eyes, it was too late already. The summer came and Audric just lost touch with her. He really should'e wrote to her or something to make her feel better, but how would he even start a letter like that? Audric would also admit he wasn't good with his words or feelings. He was a man and men didn't explain their feelings. They shoved them aside and sucked it up. Obviously Monet couldn't do that and Audric was lost. So it was then that Audric just let her be and hoped that she would figure things out on her own. The sight before him told Audric that she had not figured things out on her own.
He saw her hands go to work at the bottom of her sweater and Audric ignored the fretting hands. He let her talk. It was about time she let those piercing words come out. Audric could feel his temper rising as her words hit him deep. His eyes narrowed slightly and his fists balled up. He kept telling himself that he shouldn't blow up at her over and over again and finally let his hands relax, but his eyes didn't. His mouth was set and Audric would give her a piece of his mind eventually. He wasn't sure how he would win any argument with the advantage on her side, but Audric was a damn Gryffindor, they found ways to win even if the chances were none. He was certainly not going to back down and his voice wasn't gentle as he had first spoken to her. A flame lit up in him and wasn't about to be blown out anytime soon.
"Well I'm not leaving and it sure bloody looks like you need someone to straighten you out." Audric shot back. A bit harsh, but Audric couldn't help but spit out the truth. He jabbed a thumb towards himself and continued on. "I'm not a sideline player. I thought I could just avoid all that emotion and - and become a damn rock! You don't think that I regret not owling you over the summer or saying something on the first day of school this year or even on the bloody day that your father died?! " Audric attempted to explain, his voice raising a bit as he felt the blood pounding in his head. He didn't know that he had it in him to get right to the point with her and let out a breath of air, attempting to calm himself down. He needed to sit down before he punched a wall or did something else on a whim.
Rubbing his eyes, Audric felt flustered and furious at the same time. All the bubbling rage was tingling through him and he didn't like this feeling when he was around Monet. Sure they had their arguments in the past, but he never felt like this towards her in his life before. Lowering his hands, Audric stared down at her through his glasses. He was sure she had something to say about his outburst towards her and he was bound to have it. Hell, if she hit him it would be refreshing to see even a slight part of Monet's Gryffindor fire. Audric would just have to refrain himself from responding with a hit back. So he left it up to her to decide what to do. He wasn't going to leave until they solved something out.
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Post by MONET ANAIS GANT on Dec 12, 2011 21:41:53 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][div style="border: solid;-moz-border-radius: 300px;[br"]border-radius: 200px; background-image: url(http://i1088.photobucket.com/albums/i337/lacieejaneexx/600full-nina-agdal.jpg); height: 400px; width: 400px; -moz-border-radius: 250 250 250 250; -webkit-border-radius: 250 250 250 250;][style=background-color:#F8F8FF ; width: 230px; height: 120px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 190px; -moz-border-radius:1 1 1 1; -webkit-border-radius: 1 1 1 1; opacity: 0.8; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; text-align: justify; padding: 10px; overflow: auto;]She would be damned to hell if Audric just thought that he could come prancing back into her life, as if a big rift between the two had never been formed. A gaping six month silence left plenty of damage control that she was sure he did not want to go back and try to dust up. Monet had been brushing it aside as well, but in her case she had at least acknowledged it, understanding that the searing pain was something that eventually needed to be cared for. Over time she had grown to someone who was uncaring, like she had too many things to wallow in for other matters to stand as something relevant to her. Audric deeming himself able to insert himself into her life against was now a matter that was taking up all of her attention. Monet could not shrug such a thing off, like she had done with a number of other things that were slowly beginning to pile up around her. Shoving things aside, that had become her number one coping mechanism after the death of her father. If anyone would call her out on such a pathetic way of dealing with things then it would be Audric.
All of the emotions that she had boiling within her could not be contained for much longer with Audric lingering around her. Perhaps she would have sat down for a long needed cry if he had wandered out of the room, symbolically showing that he was departing from her life permanently. No, the stubborn git had turned around and trudged right back towards her. Oh, how he infuriated her sometimes. She would have liked nothing more than to shove at him, literally using her number one defense to get rid of Audric, who was only a bother now. A conflict of emotions began to clash inside of her, thanks to the bloke who was looming around her. Of course, he was also simmering with a pot of emotions that she had undoubtedly caused with her careless choice of words. Maybe she did not wholly mean everything that she said. Monet just knew that it was even more than a relief to deliver them so coolly to Audric, who deserved to hear such a thing. Better late than never to let out withheld feelings, Monet figured. Six months was a hell of a lot more manageable than say...two or three years. Or even a decade. Ten years would have given Monet too much time to ponder over the issue.
Both of the Gryffindor had raging fires that had started within them, which meant that the dealings between them could easily go out of hand. For that exact reason it was why whenever they argued James always seemed to pop up appropriately to mediate. James couldn't swoop in now to pull anything heroic. It was an issue between Monet and Audric that they would either need to piece together or leave everything lay in ruins. "I've got James and Katniss. They've supported me when you flunked out of my life. You had better things to do than fret over me, I understand," she spat out at him, the words filled with an acid only Audric could cause. He had a number of effects on Monet, the bulk of them far from positive. They clashed, being so alike in the ways of their stubbornness. She didn't even attempt to withhold the snort that was caused by his angry thumb jab towards himself. Honestly, who did Audric think he was to make decisions regarding her life?
Now her hands were ringing roughly at her sweater, pulling relentlessly at the fabric for a lack of other occupying tasks. She could only think of one other option. It involved her fist and Audric's face, an option that would probably call for Audric to react with a retaliating force of violence. "I tried to do the same exact thing. Now look at where we are, Audric. Drowning in a mess that should have never even existed!" Her voice had raised to meet the loudness of his, reaching a shrillness that only crept out when she was feeling distressed. Mentally she was cursing Audric for making her care so much about someone who had treated her like absolute rubbish. "I don't even want to deal with you, you ignorant bloke! If you cared then none of this should have ever happened. This only shows how much you don't care," she dejectedly screamed out, voice dissenting in loudness as somberness overcame her. Now she was glancing away, feeling ice glace over where a fire had blazed only moments ago.
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Post by audric on Dec 29, 2011 14:46:13 GMT -5
No longer was James here to break up their fights anymore and Audric wasn't sure if he should be happy about this fact or angry. He decided that he was more happy in that split second because now he could finally let loose his inner thoughts about Monet. He could feel the presence of his wand against his leg in his sock and was tempted to pull it out to threaten Monet with it. A wand changed every situation into something more tense, especially if two ex-friends were in a quarrel. James and Katniss supported her. "Oh Katniss, I bet she was just a fantastic influence." Audric sarcastically replied as he rolled his eyes. Katniss was a nice person, but her strong opinions and judgmental attitude worried Audric sometimes when she was around Monet. Audric had seen the two with each other sometimes and he didn't approve. Monet needed someone understanding and compassionate. Letting out a harsh sigh, Audric stared at her fists practically ripping apart her sweater.
His words didn't seem to be getting through her thick skull and Audric didn't like being heard or understood. It was something he couldn't understand since he clearly had important things to say. He wouldn't be able to sit by and watch people boss him around like Monet was attempting to do. Should he keep up his agressive act, or try a different tactic with her? It would be weird and out of his comfort level, but perhaps compassion from Audric would give her another view. He had to convince her that the past was the past and he was here now and that was all that mattered. She of all people should know that he wasn't good with emotions and comfort. Comfort was not his thing since he figured people could control their overwhelming emotions and move on. Sure you're allowed two weeks to a month to weep about said event, but after a month is just too long. Can a person really be that weak and pitiful to let themselves wallow in such sorrow? Audric would never understand such emotions like Monet's, but one must think outside of the box to reach some people. Her voice reached shrill level and Audric knew that she was reaching her breaking point.
Audric knew that soon someone would be coming down to hear them screaming, but Audric remembered that most people were in their dormitories or common rooms. Anybody that would hear them would be wandering in the dark like so many students did when they couldn't sleep or they were secretly meeting up with another person. Or like Audric, they were stalking someone to figure out a broken friendship. Audric realized he's been a bit too silent and needed to put his word in to finally put Monet in her place. He needed to get her to think like him. "But I do care! Why else would I be here if I didn't? I man once told me that 'The past is behind, learn from it. The future is ahead, prepare for it. The present is here, live it.'" Audric told Monet. His father's voice came to him and Audric respected the man that much since those words always stuck with him. "I intend to make things right Monet. If I didn't, I would've just left you alone." Audric added. If this didn't get through to Monet, he wasn't sure what he was going to do. He would have to use some sort of physical force to make her understand. Why did Gryffindors have to be so damn stubborn?
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Post by MONET ANAIS GANT on Dec 29, 2011 15:49:55 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][div style="border: solid;-moz-border-radius: 300px;[br"]border-radius: 200px; background-image: url(http://i1088.photobucket.com/albums/i337/lacieejaneexx/600full-nina-agdal.jpg); height: 400px; width: 400px; -moz-border-radius: 250 250 250 250; -webkit-border-radius: 250 250 250 250;][style=background-color:#F8F8FF ; width: 230px; height: 120px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 190px; -moz-border-radius:1 1 1 1; -webkit-border-radius: 1 1 1 1; opacity: 0.8; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; text-align: justify; padding: 10px; overflow: auto;]He needed to leave before Monet let her thoughts boil down to the only option that kept running through her mind. A fist to the face, a fist to his face, a fist right in his nose. It had appeared to her in various forms but ultimately she would settle for a broken hand and bloodied clothes if it mean that Audric would let her alone. The two being both Gryffindors smashed heads with a harshness that would have cracked any other pair clear in half. Monet would senselessly ram at him time and time again until her message was clearly conveyed to his perpetually clouded head. He was nothing but a fool to believe that he could try and get something across to her when she was in such a state. Maybe he thought that she would vulnerable and soft, easily molding herself to whatever it was that Audric had rehearsed in his mind. That was a bunch of bullshit on his part, he knew Monet better than that.
It could not be restrained when Monet let out a frustrated howl because of the things that he was saying. Honestly, what sort of superiority did the dolt think that he had? This was a scuttle that only say between the two of them, no one else needed to be brought into the dramatics that Audric had stirred up with his following her to the trophy room. His jab directed towards Katniss pulled her thin spread over everything even tighter. Soon enough she would break into a million bits and all of the pieces would fail to be recovered. She was beginning to think that the things he was saying with purposely chosen to cause the biggest reaction possible from Monet. More irritation was now flaring to the point where it wouldn't be surprising if her stare fogged over with a revolting crimson shade. "Shut your fucking mouth, Audric! Katniss did everything that you didn't. Take another hit on her and I'll hit you in the face," Monet sputtered out, words blurring together because of the anger he had set fire to with his senseless words.
Her hands were flailing around wildly, a habit she had fallen into when she felt that words could not properly display what she was attempting to explain. Audric had seen plenty of cases where her legs and arms were thrown about. Never before had such a lunatic sight been directed towards him. Times change, Monet thought to herself bitterly. They hadn't morphed into anything better, but worse things that Monet would have rather swept under the carpet and ignored them completely. From waving around her hands retreated back to her sweater, which now had torn and Monet hadn't even paid attention to it, only continued to wring her hands frantically. "I don't want to live it! I'd rather wallow in the memories of when times were actually okay. When you were there as someone I could count on." She was wailing now, so high of a tone that it wouldn't be surprising if the glass cases began to rattle. Monet's stare was wild with something unpredictable gleaming in her stare. "That's what you should have said half a year ago, Audric. You're a little fucking late." Hysteria now overcame her tone, paired with a blubbering sound that surfaced with the streaming tears coming from her grayed eyes.
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Post by audric on Jan 17, 2012 17:39:40 GMT -5
Why did Gryffindors have to be so stubborn and think they were always right?! If Audric didn't care about losing so much, he'd just give in and let Monet win, but he refused. Perhaps Gryffindors believed in expressing their opinions too much and defending their pride. Damn lions, Audric thought. He needed to be quick with his next move to at least to stop her from screaming and obnoxiously fidgeting with everything on her for Merlin's sake. If she didn't stop soon, Audric was just going to rip that damn sweater of hers off. Of course that would be totally inappropriate, but Audric couldn't stand those hands going at her sweater. Maybe he should just let her hit him. He's taken much worse in Quidditch and his tolerance for pain was high. Needles, slaps? Screw them, Audric would need his neck broken to make him cry out in pain these days. Or of course being hit in the balls, but every male in his right sense would double over. The most sensitive part of the male body.
Audric knew that bringing Katniss into this was a bad idea. If anybody knew how to defend their friends it was a loyal Gryffindor. Damn temper letting his mouth doing the talking instead of his brain. He knew that he wasn't going to go any further with that topic, but he was on the edge of letting out another remark. Knowing that she would stay true to her word, Audric wouldn't test the waters any further. She was just blinded, that's all. Monet doesn't know any better since she's always been the pitied. People took pity on her and Audric was starting to get annoyed that she wasn't trying to move on and prove to people that she can live up to her father's expectations and just be a leader.
As the conversation dragged on, Audric folded his hands and decided to play the more mature role. He wasn't going to sit here and bicker with a brick wall. Obviously anything he was going to say was going to drop dead to the floor. As he stood there with his hands folded and a neutral face formed in place of his rage, Audric just stared at Monet as she complained. He didn't even stop himself from rolling his eyes. "Well then wallow in it. Rot in your despair. Be alone for the rest of your life. Be the poor pitied girl that doesn't know the meaning of bravery anymore." Audric uncrossed his arms and walked over to Monet so he was only a foot away from her. Tilting his head down to actually look at her, Audric spoke again in a menacing tone. "This obviously isn't Monet anymore." Audric poked her in the sternum with his pointer finger to get his point across.
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Post by MONET ANAIS GANT on Jan 17, 2012 19:28:35 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][div style="border: solid;-moz-border-radius: 300px;[br"]border-radius: 200px; background-image: url(http://i1088.photobucket.com/albums/i337/lacieejaneexx/600full-nina-agdal.jpg); height: 400px; width: 400px; -moz-border-radius: 250 250 250 250; -webkit-border-radius: 250 250 250 250;][style=background-color:#F8F8FF ; width: 230px; height: 120px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 190px; -moz-border-radius:1 1 1 1; -webkit-border-radius: 1 1 1 1; opacity: 0.8; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; text-align: justify; padding: 10px; overflow: auto;]Silence from Audric was the last thing she wanted to have meet her ears when she momentarily quit with her rant. All of her shouting was a product from his yelling in hopes that she would riled him enough to continue his shouting. As twisted as it sounded there was reasoning behind why she refused to let the issue go. He may have been delayed with his apology and amends but the fact that he was still standing before her, stomaching all her shouts meant that he at least cared enough to hear her end of the ordeal. If he truly were fed up with her immature act he easily would have turned around and strolled out of the trophy room. Had he not cared then it would be no weight on his shoulders to know that he backed out just as she was tearing open the seams she had been forced to make after he had closed the doors. She may have been expressing that his tries were coming too late but Monet hardly meant it.
Maybe she should have punched him, relieved all of her rage with one heartfelt swing at his pretty face. While she hadn't kept herself up to date with Audric she was fairly assured that it had been a while since he had been placed in an altercation. The punch wouldn't have been about trying to cause a riot with Audric, expecting him to aim a swing back at her as a counter. One punch and all of her anger would be wiped away, nothing but numbness left that easily could have molded into shame at her actions. From there on the process of recovery could have started, since she was still bruised from Audric's negligence towards her gentle state. No, it couldn't be that uncomplicated for the two. Drama was what caused them to thrive, whether it came in a small dosage or large enough to knock the two out. Never a calm moment could pass between the two, not even after they had been separated for nearly over a half of a year.
One of the biggest downfalls of finding yourself in a row with your best mate was that they knew you practically inside and out. Audric still had a clear scope on how to press Monet's buttons and get the desired reaction from her. Already she was transparent with her emotions, it didn't make very much more to manipulate. Instantly she grew quiet, eyes nearly immediately drying up their tear wells to become replaced with a stony gray stare. "I'm not going to rot away, not even if you wish such a thing onto me," she bitterly replied, balling her fists up in irritation. "My bravery has never left me. So piss of for thinking that a death has changed me. I am Monet Anais Gant," she snidely said, raising her nose to look at him with a superior stare. She didn't even yelp when he poked at her, instead grabbed fiercely at his hand and bent his finger back slightly. Finally, he had gotten his point across.
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