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[attr="class","lyric1slyth"]ocean eyes

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[attr="class","lyric2slyth"]I've been watching you For some time
Can't stop staring At those oceans eyes
Burning cities And napalm skies

[attr="class","textbodslyth"]Rounds could have been going better. It didn't help that she had gotten paired with the last person she would have wanted to be paired with.

Miranda didn't really hate Karel Higgs. He just had a habit of seeming like he was going out of his way to annoy her, and Miranda was just too cut and dry to put up with it. She didn't like being underestimated, nor did she like being called random nicknames. Miranda didn't have time to worry about Karel sneaking up on her at every corner and making some jab at her, or some weird backhanded compliment. She had things to do. Art club to lead, internships to apply for in the summer. Miranda had her life planned out, and it did not involve dealing with Higgs. But they were in the same year and house, and they were co-prefects, so Miranda was trying. She was trying to put up with him and not let his words get to her--but impulse had always been her weakness. Her mother had always said she had taken after her father in that respect. Nothing but an angry fire waiting to burst. So much so that she would have probably landed herself among the Lions if it hadn't been for her family's reputation.

She was a Powell, but not that Powell. That was how Miranda had to often introduce herself when it came to Slytherins. To remind people that she was Aeron Powell's daughter, and no, she has never even met her supposedly traitorous Aunt Meredith. All she knew about her were the things that popped up in the news, and the fact that her dad didn't like her. They were siblings--but estranged. Divided by a complicated family life. Her father had sided against their supposed mistake of a muggle father, and Aunt Meredith refused to partake in any of that mess. She had left him alone as soon as she had been able to, and that was that. Dad didn't like her, and Miranda... just followed suit. She hadn't even had the courage to approach her cousin the one year they had been at Hogwarts together. Part of Miranda didn't even want to know what she would find, because she liked who she was, and there was no reason to explore beyond that.

That was a problem for beyond the walls of Hogwarts, though, and one of the good things about Hogwarts was that it sheltered her from the world beyond. From the problems that she couldn't help but get wrapped up in. Still, there were other problems now. More trivial ones, sure, but he was still a problem.

Miranda trudged along silently through their rounds. The less she said, the less who could poke and prod, as far as she was concerned. She scanned a hallway with a light sigh, her hands fiddling with the strap of her book bag. Restlessness--it meant she wouldn't be sleeping very well. Karel fell behind her suddenly, and Miranda slowed to a stop and turned around to face him with a frown. "Why've you stopped?" she asked, her eyebrows raised, then glanced around to see where they had stopped. They were on the third floor already, and there was... Rowena's Cell. Miranda rolled her eyes and glanced back at Karel. "Seriously?" she questioned with some annoyance.

@karel | 555 words | outfit

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW

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We're a disaster waiting to happen, so let's just embrace it

Outfit with a Slytherin tie

Being a prefect had its perks, but it also had its downfalls as well; one of these downfalls was patrolling. He usually didn’t mind it, but sometimes he wished he could just skip the patrols and do anything else. His patrol tonight meant that he’d have to have either a much later night than usual so he could review his most recent connections and business agreements or he’d have to retreat to Rowena’s cell early tomorrow to pull double. You could argue he was putting too much effort into a small school ‘business’, but he didn’t care he was preparing himself for when he escaped these walls. If he made enough connections now, he’d need to make fewer when he was in the real world, but it also meant that he could build up a good portfolio if he ever needed to convince people that he was capable of bargaining and making deals with.

On the plus side, for this patrol Karel had Miranda as company and whilst the duo clashed a lot, normally at him starting trouble or deliberately trying to rile her up, they still kept coming back for more and spending time together… kind of. He wouldn’t call training and patrolling, ‘spending time’ together, but they could stay in the same room as one another without killing each other and that was a big deal. As they walked side by side, the silence was deafening and he wondered if he’d pushed too far after the last Quidditch pitch, normally by now there’d have been at least three arguments by now – one on each floor – but there’d been nothing. There hadn’t even been attempts at small talk and whilst Karel wondered what was going on with Miranda and if he had maybe gone too far but he was trying not let it bother him, he wasn’t really in a talkative mood after all but if they didn’t start speaking soon, this night was going to feel much longer than usual.

As they reached the third floor, Karel who had been wrapped up in his own thoughts slowly began to become aware of his surroundings and even more so Miranda, she seemed… troubled almost, she was fidgeting and in all the times he’d been around her, he’d learnt her mannerisms and fiddling was something new to him, he wanted to ask questions but he knew that it would go either one of two ways, they’d somehow get into an argument or she’d talk and even though he’d listen, Miranda may mistake it for him actually caring about her and that that would be a disaster. When he reached the cell, he stopped and looked up at the door, he had some butterbeer stored, spiked with the slightest trace of alcohol, maybe something like that would make the patrol pass by quicker, especially if this silence was going to keep up.

Karel heard Miranda’s voice and he glanced at her, rolling his eyes at her comment, ”Oh be quiet, ljubica.” He grumbled, turning back to the door and trying to come up with something to get the door open, ”I wish to collect some of my belongings.” He said and there was the telltale click of the door opening and he pushed it open, ”If things are going to be this awkward and tense, I’m going to try and lighten the mood.” He said, loud enough for Miranda to hear outside of the room as he went to one of the corners and picked up the crate of spiked butterbeer, placing it on one of the stools and pulling out to bottles, ”You joining me ljubica?” He asked, tapping the bottle caps with his wand and opening them.