Post by Madeleine Baudelaire&Russ Ford on Apr 22, 2008 21:10:15 GMT
"Aw, balls."
Madeleine stopped as Russ's file crashed the floor, rolling her eyes. "When did you become so klutzy?"
Russ sighed heavily as he picked up the black lever arch folder. "Well, think about it, Madel. When was the last time I had to carry one of these?"
"Fair enough," she agreed, getting down to pick up some of the paper that had spilled out onto the parquet tiled floor of the corridor. "I still don't understand how you managed to get away with not going to school for so many years."
Russ smirked as he straightened up, stuffing the file pages covered in his thick, neat scrawl. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that it isn't what you know?"
She snorted.
"It's cause I was a child genius."
"Suuuuure you were..." she said, rolling her eyes as she handed him his perfectly neat notes. Russ had been up for the past two nights straight copying out the whole year's worth of magnetism notes, belying that he wasn't as feckless as he pretended to be. Well, after all, he didn't need notes in his other subjects. Combustion... well, self-control wasn't something they taught you on paper. And Russ had wood nailed down to a fine art - literally. He'd sell carvings to make a bit of extra money, and he made a fair bit of it from these. After all, when things are carved with fingernails, usually the detail is much better than that of a carving done by a whittling knife.
And everything else... well, Russ didn't really give a crap.
"Thanks," he said, putting the notes into the black file with his name scratched - yes, scratched - into the front of it.
Madeleine glanced about the corridor, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Since Russ had arrived, Madeleine found herself being followed by some slightly hostile stares. This was to be expected, but when she and Russ were in the same place at the same time, the stares were intensified: perhaps because many guys still felt intimidated by Russ. And of course, he did nothing to discourage this, Russ liked people thinking of him like this.
From the girls, his reception was much better. He'd hit it off with most of them very, very, very well, and his impression of them seemed to be... favourable.
Take his meeting with Olivia. She'd come over to them, and Madeleine was able to tell that Russ was impressed.
The opening between Russ and Olivia went something like this.
"So, you're the famous Russ then?"
"The one and only," he'd smirked, his eyes flicking over her appraisingly. "Are you Olivia?"
"I am."
"Are you single?"
Possibly the worst part of that was that he wasn't in any way abashed by his being so forward when he found out that she wasn't single. He'd just grinned and said, "Shame."
Once, she'd been like him. Now, though, that thought made her shiver.
He grinned at her now, suddenly as they walked to English. "It's everywhere now, isn't it?"
"What is?"
"Hostility."
Madeleine briefly glanced about her, her eyes immediately drawn back to Andrew Parker, a Spy (and coincidentally, an old friend of Levi Ryder's) whom she had given lessons in psychokinesis used as a weapon to, who was staring at her darkly from ahead of her. "Hmm."
"It could be worse, though."
The crack of a stone through a glass window. The hiss of a punctured tyre. The cuss words sworn by a gang of teenagers at a young girl and her older brother...
"I remember."
It was hard not to.
He didn't answer, and they were surrounded by the loud chat of the people that flooded the corridors. Madeleine had to smile as she watched Russ's eyes follow a raven haired girl into her classroom approvingly.
"How's Jake settling in?" she asked.
"Better than I am, surprisingly," Russ said, trying to simultaneously walk and put the now slightly crumpled notes into some neater form. "I think he might like stability."
Madeleine laughed. "And you, then?"
He winced. "Dying for a cigarette, if you really want to know."
"You shouldn't-"
"I shouldn't do a lot of things. Forgive me, but I'm going nuts enough being cooped up in here, never mind nicotine withdrawal sym- what the hell are you staring at?"
Startled, Madeleine followed Russ's now coal black gaze to see a hostile looking Andrew Parker staring at them, now looking slightly taken aback.
"Well?" Russ demanded.
"Russ," Madeleine warned, looking back at Andrew. "Something wrong, Andrew?"
Andrew just shook his head slowly, and Madeleine made a move to walk forward.
"Breed."
As soon as the word had spilled from his mouth, there was a resounding slam. Two slams, actually. One from Russ's file landing on the ground with a bang, and the other from the pure force which Russ's fist connected with Andrew's jaw and slammed him into the corridor wall with.
"Russ!"
"Apologize," Russ snarled, his voice as guttural as a growling dog.
Crap.
Madeleine stepped forward, eyes flashing at both Russ and Andrew. "Russ, get off him."
"Apologize!" Russ's eyes were angry, hard as onyx flints as he slammed Andrew against the wall again. This time, his deep growl was a little louder, and Madeleine felt a little pity for Andrew, who, faced with Russ and his (now flexed and ready to fight) muscles, looked about an inch tall.
Andrew Parker kept silent, struggling under Russ's iron grip, his mouth covered in huge blobs of angry scarlet fluid.
"Russ, I'll deal with it-"
"Apologize to her, you gadje son of a-"
What was left of Russ's temper was waning, and Madeleine knew exactly what would happen if he snapped - and she wasn't about to let it get that far. After all, Russ had been training for bare-knuckle fighting - and Russ was a fighter. Now, as he glared fiercely at Andrew, his grip harder than steel, he was poised ready to fight.
However, if that happened... well, Russ would be expelled, possibly imprisoned for assault, and Andrew... well, let's just say they'd still be picking his teeth out of the floor in a year's time.
"Russ!" she snapped, interrupting him mid-word.. "Get the hell off him, now!."
His eyes flashed at her.
"That was an order," she growled, unaware that her tone was only slightly different from his.
Their fiery eyes met the others, and suddenly, Russ relaxed his grip; letting Andrew go so suddenly that the Spy slipped and nearly slid down the wall.
"Are you alright, Andrew?"
He struggled upwards, muttering something unintelligible.
"That's good then," she said softly, stepping closer to him. "Now, Andrew, I'd like you to listen to me here. I'm guessing that you don't like gypsies, for whatever reason. Now, first of all, you know perfectly that racism and bigotry and all those things are not tolerated in this school."
Her tone was calm, cool, polished, but there was an authority behind it, and a fire in her eyes that made Andrew keep quiet and listening. "I'll not tell Hoodham, and if he asks, I'll tell him that it was a misunderstanding. Secondly, if you have a problem with me - well, that's fine. You can insult me all you like, Andrew, but the second you start to insult me because of my race and my people - well, that's a completely different story, as you've just seen. I won't take that, and as you can see, neither will anyone else. Now, I can fix your mouth, and we can forget that this ever happened. But Andrew, if you say terms like that within earshot of either one of us again, I can guarantee you'll regret it. Seeing as you seem to have a bit of a problem with us gypsies, I doubt your pride will be able to take getting your ass kicked by one of us, so for your own sake, you can keep quiet about your prejudices."
His face was unfathomable, but that was fine by Madeleine.
"Now, is that clear enough for you?"
He didn't respond for a few seconds, his eyes darting about the corridor and to Russ a couple of times, before nodding shortly.
She smiled, "That's good, then," and extended her hand to Andrew's jaw, letting the golden glow fix the damage that Russ had made. "Now, you should get to class."
He didn't need telling twice.
Madeleine adjusted her bag on her shoulder, before turning to Russ, the gypsy fire in her eyes a perfect mirror to the one in his. "You are in deep, deep-"
"That was good, Madel. Very Mafia. I still think you should have let me sort it out, though."
She stared at him, disgusted.
His eyes were still black as the witching hour, but he grinned at her emptily anyway. "So, is this the part where you give me a bollocking for using violence in the corridor?"
Yes, Madeleine hated that word. Yes, she hated people calling her things like that, and insulting her because of her heritage. Maybe Andrew had deserved a punishment - not to the extent Russ had given and was ready to give, but a reprimand all the same.
But Russ wasn't doing anyone any favours, least of all his own reputation. Yes, that was just how he was, but Madeleine wasn't allowed to let her Warriors behave like that. And she didn't want to have to punish Russ, but that was inevitable when he did things like that.
And nothing like that was going to happen again.
"I'll deal with you after English," she said, shaking her head, and walking on ahead of him.
Madeleine stopped as Russ's file crashed the floor, rolling her eyes. "When did you become so klutzy?"
Russ sighed heavily as he picked up the black lever arch folder. "Well, think about it, Madel. When was the last time I had to carry one of these?"
"Fair enough," she agreed, getting down to pick up some of the paper that had spilled out onto the parquet tiled floor of the corridor. "I still don't understand how you managed to get away with not going to school for so many years."
Russ smirked as he straightened up, stuffing the file pages covered in his thick, neat scrawl. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that it isn't what you know?"
She snorted.
"It's cause I was a child genius."
"Suuuuure you were..." she said, rolling her eyes as she handed him his perfectly neat notes. Russ had been up for the past two nights straight copying out the whole year's worth of magnetism notes, belying that he wasn't as feckless as he pretended to be. Well, after all, he didn't need notes in his other subjects. Combustion... well, self-control wasn't something they taught you on paper. And Russ had wood nailed down to a fine art - literally. He'd sell carvings to make a bit of extra money, and he made a fair bit of it from these. After all, when things are carved with fingernails, usually the detail is much better than that of a carving done by a whittling knife.
And everything else... well, Russ didn't really give a crap.
"Thanks," he said, putting the notes into the black file with his name scratched - yes, scratched - into the front of it.
Madeleine glanced about the corridor, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Since Russ had arrived, Madeleine found herself being followed by some slightly hostile stares. This was to be expected, but when she and Russ were in the same place at the same time, the stares were intensified: perhaps because many guys still felt intimidated by Russ. And of course, he did nothing to discourage this, Russ liked people thinking of him like this.
From the girls, his reception was much better. He'd hit it off with most of them very, very, very well, and his impression of them seemed to be... favourable.
Take his meeting with Olivia. She'd come over to them, and Madeleine was able to tell that Russ was impressed.
The opening between Russ and Olivia went something like this.
"So, you're the famous Russ then?"
"The one and only," he'd smirked, his eyes flicking over her appraisingly. "Are you Olivia?"
"I am."
"Are you single?"
Possibly the worst part of that was that he wasn't in any way abashed by his being so forward when he found out that she wasn't single. He'd just grinned and said, "Shame."
Once, she'd been like him. Now, though, that thought made her shiver.
He grinned at her now, suddenly as they walked to English. "It's everywhere now, isn't it?"
"What is?"
"Hostility."
Madeleine briefly glanced about her, her eyes immediately drawn back to Andrew Parker, a Spy (and coincidentally, an old friend of Levi Ryder's) whom she had given lessons in psychokinesis used as a weapon to, who was staring at her darkly from ahead of her. "Hmm."
"It could be worse, though."
The crack of a stone through a glass window. The hiss of a punctured tyre. The cuss words sworn by a gang of teenagers at a young girl and her older brother...
"I remember."
It was hard not to.
He didn't answer, and they were surrounded by the loud chat of the people that flooded the corridors. Madeleine had to smile as she watched Russ's eyes follow a raven haired girl into her classroom approvingly.
"How's Jake settling in?" she asked.
"Better than I am, surprisingly," Russ said, trying to simultaneously walk and put the now slightly crumpled notes into some neater form. "I think he might like stability."
Madeleine laughed. "And you, then?"
He winced. "Dying for a cigarette, if you really want to know."
"You shouldn't-"
"I shouldn't do a lot of things. Forgive me, but I'm going nuts enough being cooped up in here, never mind nicotine withdrawal sym- what the hell are you staring at?"
Startled, Madeleine followed Russ's now coal black gaze to see a hostile looking Andrew Parker staring at them, now looking slightly taken aback.
"Well?" Russ demanded.
"Russ," Madeleine warned, looking back at Andrew. "Something wrong, Andrew?"
Andrew just shook his head slowly, and Madeleine made a move to walk forward.
"Breed."
As soon as the word had spilled from his mouth, there was a resounding slam. Two slams, actually. One from Russ's file landing on the ground with a bang, and the other from the pure force which Russ's fist connected with Andrew's jaw and slammed him into the corridor wall with.
"Russ!"
"Apologize," Russ snarled, his voice as guttural as a growling dog.
Crap.
Madeleine stepped forward, eyes flashing at both Russ and Andrew. "Russ, get off him."
"Apologize!" Russ's eyes were angry, hard as onyx flints as he slammed Andrew against the wall again. This time, his deep growl was a little louder, and Madeleine felt a little pity for Andrew, who, faced with Russ and his (now flexed and ready to fight) muscles, looked about an inch tall.
Andrew Parker kept silent, struggling under Russ's iron grip, his mouth covered in huge blobs of angry scarlet fluid.
"Russ, I'll deal with it-"
"Apologize to her, you gadje son of a-"
What was left of Russ's temper was waning, and Madeleine knew exactly what would happen if he snapped - and she wasn't about to let it get that far. After all, Russ had been training for bare-knuckle fighting - and Russ was a fighter. Now, as he glared fiercely at Andrew, his grip harder than steel, he was poised ready to fight.
However, if that happened... well, Russ would be expelled, possibly imprisoned for assault, and Andrew... well, let's just say they'd still be picking his teeth out of the floor in a year's time.
"Russ!" she snapped, interrupting him mid-word.. "Get the hell off him, now!."
His eyes flashed at her.
"That was an order," she growled, unaware that her tone was only slightly different from his.
Their fiery eyes met the others, and suddenly, Russ relaxed his grip; letting Andrew go so suddenly that the Spy slipped and nearly slid down the wall.
"Are you alright, Andrew?"
He struggled upwards, muttering something unintelligible.
"That's good then," she said softly, stepping closer to him. "Now, Andrew, I'd like you to listen to me here. I'm guessing that you don't like gypsies, for whatever reason. Now, first of all, you know perfectly that racism and bigotry and all those things are not tolerated in this school."
Her tone was calm, cool, polished, but there was an authority behind it, and a fire in her eyes that made Andrew keep quiet and listening. "I'll not tell Hoodham, and if he asks, I'll tell him that it was a misunderstanding. Secondly, if you have a problem with me - well, that's fine. You can insult me all you like, Andrew, but the second you start to insult me because of my race and my people - well, that's a completely different story, as you've just seen. I won't take that, and as you can see, neither will anyone else. Now, I can fix your mouth, and we can forget that this ever happened. But Andrew, if you say terms like that within earshot of either one of us again, I can guarantee you'll regret it. Seeing as you seem to have a bit of a problem with us gypsies, I doubt your pride will be able to take getting your ass kicked by one of us, so for your own sake, you can keep quiet about your prejudices."
His face was unfathomable, but that was fine by Madeleine.
"Now, is that clear enough for you?"
He didn't respond for a few seconds, his eyes darting about the corridor and to Russ a couple of times, before nodding shortly.
She smiled, "That's good, then," and extended her hand to Andrew's jaw, letting the golden glow fix the damage that Russ had made. "Now, you should get to class."
He didn't need telling twice.
Madeleine adjusted her bag on her shoulder, before turning to Russ, the gypsy fire in her eyes a perfect mirror to the one in his. "You are in deep, deep-"
"That was good, Madel. Very Mafia. I still think you should have let me sort it out, though."
She stared at him, disgusted.
His eyes were still black as the witching hour, but he grinned at her emptily anyway. "So, is this the part where you give me a bollocking for using violence in the corridor?"
Yes, Madeleine hated that word. Yes, she hated people calling her things like that, and insulting her because of her heritage. Maybe Andrew had deserved a punishment - not to the extent Russ had given and was ready to give, but a reprimand all the same.
But Russ wasn't doing anyone any favours, least of all his own reputation. Yes, that was just how he was, but Madeleine wasn't allowed to let her Warriors behave like that. And she didn't want to have to punish Russ, but that was inevitable when he did things like that.
And nothing like that was going to happen again.
"I'll deal with you after English," she said, shaking her head, and walking on ahead of him.
