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Post by Michael Pucey on May 15, 2007 20:17:37 GMT -5
How had Michael, the Michael, out of nowhere suddenly appeared in the hospital wing, limping? He'd fractured his ankle, yes, and his sister was attempting to support his weight while helping him there to the hospital wing. Now, there was one question left. How could Michael, of all people, appear in the hospital wing with a fractured ankle? This was Michael. Quiet Michael. Never-does-anything-not-guaranteed-to-be-safe Michael. He was in the hospital wing with a fractured ankle, and Hailie was leaving with a slight giggle, no doubt off to find one of her other little bubbly friends.
He took a seat heavily, a slight frown marking his face as he glanced around. It was empty. Completely and totally empty. Ah... now, he was trying to recall all the details that had led up to this certain point in time, when he was sitting there like an idiot, waiting for the nurse to notice that she now had a patient. Well, he'd been with his sister. Something about Heidi having a cold, and that Hailie had been bored and needed something to do, meaning that they'd been walking. Hailie, being Hailie, had tripped. Damnit. That was where it had gone wrong. She'd tripped, 'accidentally' (or so she said) tripped him, and he'd ended up with a particularly... erm, 'heavy' girl stepping on him.
So here he was. All thanks to his sister... [/size]
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Post by Autumn Smith on May 15, 2007 20:41:52 GMT -5
Lindsey stumbled into the Hospotial Wing. She was hopping on one foot and clutching her arm with the other. She had a few Quidditch teammates help her to thw Hospotial wing after a rather nasty fall which included her, her broom, a bludger, and a goal post followed by a 25 foot drop from her broom. She was ok, but she had hurt her leg/shin/foot and her arm. She had a bludger hit her arm and had actually knocked her into the goal post and then she flew down 50 feet before finally dropping the rest of the way to the ground.
She was helped onto and bed, were she sat with her eyes closed. She sighed and let out a cry of pain. She opened her eyes and was startled to see Michael in the bed next to her. She waited to see if he would say anything.
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Post by Michael Pucey on May 15, 2007 20:51:08 GMT -5
Michael looked up, at the noise of someone else on a bed not too far away. Realizing that it was the bed very next to him, he glanced over, to find that it was Lindsey. Ah. Right. Girl from the library. Catching her eye, he blinked several times. "Um... hi...?" He was completely unsure of whether or not he should have said something, considering the last time he'd started a conversation they had ended up with several awkward silences.
Of course, Michael hardly ever talked, but he had unintentionally made her quiet as well, in the library, and that had been... only a little too awkward. [/size]
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Post by Autumn Smith on May 15, 2007 20:57:36 GMT -5
Lindsey sat up a little and smiled, well tried to. She kept wincing from the pain in her leg and in her arm. She looked at his foot and frowned. She could tell it was bpthering him. "Hey. What happened?" She asked. and laughed a little," I guess, of course, I should be the one answearing that." She quickly added and tried to lift her arm, but flinched at the pain and instead pointed at it and her leg.
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Post by Michael Pucey on May 16, 2007 15:59:35 GMT -5
"How /did/ you manage that?" Michael asked, raising his eyebrows slightly as he looked over at her. "Honestly." Considering she had mentioned several times that she played Quidditch, and he was sure some of the Ravenclaws had a practice today - although he didn't know whether or not she was on the team - that could be the result. After all, Quidditch was known to end badly at times... Well, more often than not anyways. [/size]
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Post by Aleksandra Krum on May 16, 2007 16:03:14 GMT -5
OOC: Sorry wrong account.
BIC:"Honestly? I can't believe you actually want to talk to me after the little incident in the library, but I'm glad your at least talking now." She said smiling." I was flying by the goal post and a bludger hit my arm and knocked into the goal post and then I feel down 50 feet and dropped the rest of the way to the ground. It was about 25 feet, I think. I'm really lucky. I could have been seriously hurt. But enough about me, what happened to you? Are you Ok? Does it hurt terribly, Michael?" She asked.
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Post by Michael Pucey on May 16, 2007 16:10:22 GMT -5
Michael snorted, shaking his head. Ah, he'd been right. Quidditch it was. It was one of those things that a Weasley just... did. Quidditch, 24/7. Honestly, he couldn't see what was so great about it that a person would risk physical injury to play. It was fun, yeah, he supposed, although he normally did more watching than anything else... but who would put Quidditch before their own health?
He shook his head at her last question, pondering over the others before answering. If she could give a full description, then... well, he wouldn't. That was just the way Michael was. "I was with my sister. And she tripped me. And I fell. And I think I fractured my ankle... but the nurse is gone." [/size]
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Post by Autumn Smith on May 16, 2007 16:22:49 GMT -5
Lindsey smirked," Is that all? You tripped and broke your ankle? I know there is more to the story then what you said." She said and looked at her own arm and leg. She knew he could probably tell how she got her accident even before she told him. It was a given that only one sport could do this to you...Quidditch.
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Post by Michael Pucey on May 16, 2007 16:56:42 GMT -5
Michael rolled his eyes. In some cases, he would ignore the question and turn away, pretending not to have heard it. However, he supposed that would be a rude thing to do, and he currently had nothing else to do. "Yes," he told her, raising an eyebrow. What else was he supposed to tell her? His sister had tripped him, and some weirdo had fractured his ankle. "And I didn't /break/ it. I fractured it." [/size]
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Post by Autumn Smith on May 16, 2007 17:04:15 GMT -5
Lindsey laughed." Sorry. I didn't know the difference. I didn't even know there was a difference. Sorry." She said and laid back down on the bed and closed her eyes. Michael ahd become rahter mean and she didn't want to talk to anyone that was mad at the moment.
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Post by Michael Pucey on May 16, 2007 17:15:28 GMT -5
"You don't have to apologize, don't worry about it," Michael murmured. He was sure that she was now under the assumption that he was a complete jerk, and if there was anything he'd learned from his sister, it was to never care what other people thought. He didn't /want/ a reputation as a jerk, of course... "Well... I'm sorry... for snapping at you," he added after a moment of awkward silence. Similarly to his sister, he disliked awkward silences... [/size]
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Post by Autumn Smith on May 16, 2007 17:22:35 GMT -5
"Its ok. I just thought you didn't want to talk. I've met your sister and she talks a lot. She says you are... kinda anti-social." Lindsey said laughing silently. She couldn't help it. It was funny how someone could tell you soemthing about someone and it be true...of course it wasn't always funny, but it was now.
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Post by Michael Pucey on May 16, 2007 17:32:20 GMT -5
"Yeah, Hailie's definitely the one that talks a lot..." Michael, on the other hand, rarely said anything unless you were somone so special you could force him into a conversation... Anti-social, huh? Well, that was new. Normally he only heard 'quiet' or 'boring'. Although, he supposed, anti-social could work to describe him as well. [/size]
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Post by Autumn Smith on May 16, 2007 17:36:38 GMT -5
Lindsey smiled," Well why don't you talk a lot? It's not hard. I usually talk a lot, but I can't think of what to say around you because you don't talk much." She said and laughed a little. She let go of her arm and watched it to see if she could move her hand. She couldn't. it was definately broken. She wasn't sure about her leg though.
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Post by Michael Pucey on May 16, 2007 17:43:28 GMT -5
Michael gave her a confused look, pondering over the question. Why didn't he talk a lot? She might as well have asked why his name was Michael. It was one of those unanswerable questions. "Well... I know it's not hard, I just... don't like talking." Yes, that seemed to be about right. He didn't enjoy talking, and he let people know it - not by telling them, but instead by proving it. [/size]
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