The Durmstrang Ship

Emil patted Alex on the arm, "Don't let her get to you...in fact, just ignore her. Like I do". He saw the book the boy was reading, "What's that book? Is it any good?" He allowed himself to sink back into his seat. It was going to be a rough journey on the sea; he had taken a ton of muggle medicine, the kind called Gravol, before he left. The boat ride would surely make him sick if he didn't.

He started tracing wonderful patterns into the air around his chair, making them move and such. He wasn't dressed like the other Durmstrang boys, he refused to wear fur as it was cruel to animals. That was why he hid most of himself under a blanket for the majority of the trip. Aside from his head, of course.

Prison sat somewhere alone mumbling all sorts of french curse words. Why did everyone care about being poor or being rich? Ever since people learned he was poor no girl has liked him. It sucked alot. There was nothing to do now. When would someone ever judge him by how he and how he acts instead of judging him for how much money he had? Thats what he wanted to know.

Danica sighed and, though she didn't really want to do it, went over to speak to Prison. Partly she felt sorry for him, and partly, she knew that if someone didn't give him a good talking-to soon, he would become a problem for the entire trip.

She felt sorry for him being born in a country where parents were allowed to give their children stupid names and that his parents had given him a stupid name that meant a place where they locked up criminals in English. In the Czech Republic, there was a name registry and if you were a parent who wanted to give your child a name that wasn't on it, you had to apply to the government for special permission. Danica thought it was much more sensible, for it would certainly have prevented sad cases like Prison's.

However, she didn't feel sorry about all his selfishness and self-pity. He wasn't the only person at Durmstrang who didn't come from a position of prosperity and wealth, but he was far more fixated on those things than was healthy.

"Prison!" she barked at him. "What did you just say? Don't think I don't know. Saying it in another language doesn't make it less obscene. I ought to put you over my knee and give you a spanking like the child you impersonate so well."

(posting as prison)

Prison looked at her wearily. "Why do you care? I thought you would treat me like everyone else. Treat me like a little poor tramp who has no clue what to do in this world. Or treat me like a begger asking for money. Why dont you treat me like every other girl does and leave me alone? He snaped at the girl. He didnt know her name and he didnt care she was another girl who probobly thought the same thing as all of the others.

Zhanna retreated from the cabin she had been permitted to stay in while she had calmed herself. It was not her fault she was deathly afraid of water. That would be the negligence of her family when she had been young and unable to swim and too close to a deep body of water. No it definitely was not her fault.

It was terrible. She was a strong-willed young woman who never showed weakness if she could help it, but when it came to water... She just couldn't help it. So she sat alone, nervously flicking her lighter on and off, on and off. Every time fear gripped her heart, he put the flame nearer to her fingers, until the heat made her hand twitch involuntarily and she forgot all about the water.

Now she had calmed herself. It had taken a better part of the ride, but she believed herself to have finally pulled herself together. As long as everything went smoothly and no one made a fuss, she was sure she would be fine. The girl brushed back a strand of her hair on her pixie like face and taped a nail on her pointed chin. She was fine.

She stepped into the main part of the deck and gave everyone in the vicinity a warm smile that did not match her sharp eyes. She knew she exhibited power, even for a five foot tall tiny girl. There was a mysterious beauty that kept guys chasing after her and girls wanting to be her friend. She allowed them to love her, to envy her, but she never got close... Not when trust was so easily broke...

She tilted her head and walked to a spot where she was somewhat alone, but not as though she was trying to be alone. Anti-socialness did nothing for an image. But she knew reservedness did, it made people want to follow you... She let out a small sigh and pulled her furs around her.

Prison saw another girl enter. She was beautiful but he woulnt bother going to talk to her. For all her knew she could be just like all of the other girls he had met and hate him. He thought after a bit that he might go over to say. He hoped to go talk to her and maybe learn how come all girls care about if he was poor or not. It wasnt like he couldnt be like anyone else is what he thought.

Her polished leather boot came down hard on the timbers of the ship. The boy was determined to sulk.

"I feel sorry for you, because you don't have a clue in this world," Danica said forcefully.

"You mope about feeling sorry for yourself, but you probably don't even realise you have double standards. How can you expect people to treat you well, when you treat everyone who comes near you like dirt?"

"People don't hate you because you're poor, Prison," she said. "I'm poor, and hardly anybody hates me. People hate you because you're hateful. You assume everyone is out to get you so you strike out at them first, like you just did to me, and that's why you have no friends. Give people some credit; it's not about money, it's about you."

In a swirl of red, Danica turned and stalked away from him. That hadn't gone exactly as she'd planned. Hadn't gone at all as she'd planned. She'd intended to try to make him feel better, but the way he acted like he could be nasty and she should still be obliged to make him feel better... It pushed all Danica's buttons and she'd ended up telling him just what she thought without any easing at all.

"Nothing is about me. Rule number 13 of my life is its about everyone else but me.. Im just always treated like a poor sap so i know that its not a good ideal to even try things. But sooorrry that most girls think more about money than anything else. Thats how most girls are they dont care about anything in a guy as long as they have money. Whats so good about that?" He should have shut his mouth right away. it was hard not to blame people because of the fact that he wasnt confident in himself.

Oh really? So that's what this was all about. Little Prison Lycon wasn't having a sulk because he was upset about his horrid life. He was having a sulk because he couldn't get a root.

Danica knew she shouldn't answer. But if she didn't answer, he'd go about thinking he was right. She looked at Zhanna and Veronika. Zhanna seemed to be unaware of anything around her and Veronika, well this might be a little out of Veronika's league. Even some of the other boys would be more of a help than her.

About turn! And Danica strode back across the deck, back to where Lycon was sitting and hauled him to his feet. It was lucky he was such a spindly little thing, and lucky Danica spent so much time around livestock. She pushed him up against the mast.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she asked in the quiet voice of a person whose temper is liable to explode at any moment.

Without giving him time to answer her, because Danica was pretty sure she already knew what he was talking about, she continued:

"Since when could you read girls' minds? Have you ever even had a conversation with a girl? A real one, I mean, not just one where you talked at her and she told you to go away because you were freaking her out."

"I've talked to many girls. Hade a few girlfriends.. All dumped me because of my poorness." He said. He pushed her away from him then went over to where the other guys were and sat with them. He hated that that girl was being as mean as everyone else was to him. He hoped someone could teach him to be like other guys and more confident in talking to girls.