sortinghat_logs | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

WHO: Tony and the Students and Faculty of Hogwarts!
TONE: B - For badass facial wounds
RATING: PG-13 for potential language
WHEN: 26th Monday, morning after the match.
WHERE: THe great Hall
WHAT: Breakfast time and Tony's showing off his bruises and scratches
STATUS: ONGOING

After his most agonising defeat at the hands of those damn pufflehuffs. Even though it was a good game, that's not the point. Tony comes into the great hall in the morning looking rather clean and refreshed despite the massive bruising on his face and scratches that are only just starting to scab over again, as he knocked them open in his sleep.

It's obvious as he heads to Ravenclaw's table that he hasn't had is injuries seen too. They don't bother him all that much, they only sting when they're touched and he just really is in the mood for waffles so bad he doesn't even notice or care if people could be staring at him.

All in all he doesn't fell that bad that his team didn't win, though he does count it as he wasn't good enough as a captain. He made the decision the second the snitch was caught that he would be a better captain for the next match.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Bruce! Stop it. Hey. It will just heal, why is it so important that I have to get this seen to?"

He's still fighting it, but not as much. Now he's more just lagging behind petulantly.

"Because if I keep seeing you looking this beat up I'm going to be on edge all day."

He gives a loud sigh.

"It was caused by a bludger, not a madman and a cheese grater. What would make you so on edge about it?"

"Because I don't like seeing you hurt!" he burst, turning and snarling in Tony's face. "You don't like people touching your things!? Same here."

Not expecting to be snarled at, Tony's eyes widen for a moment, and he takes a slight step back.

"Wait. I'm your thing?"

"You call me yours'? Then you deal with being mine," he growled, turning away from Tony and dragging him off again. "Idiot."

Looking mildly surprised, Tony lets himself be dragged off again, staying quiet for a moment, mulling Bruce's words over. Never really having heard him be so forceful about anything like that before. So he just dawdles behind, thinking to himself.

They eventually get to the Hospital Wing and Bruce enters, setting Tony in front of one of the nurses and explaining the situation.

Tony sags in the chair, looking like a kicked puppy. And as he's anticipating he's going to be poked, prodded and bossed around he starts getting fidgety with his tie.

"You know, I've already told him it's fine and just going to heal up on it's own in a few days. You know, if anyone is listening?"

Lucky for Tony, the nurses are quick and efficient in patching him up, healing all the scrapes so there's only a slight discolouration of the skin in the final stages of bruising.

Once Bruce is satisfied Tony's patched up properly, he begins to relax, glancing away from him and crossing his arms, the green fading from his eyes.

Tony continues to sit there acting like he's being totally put out, but also just frowns the whole time like a child who hadn't gotten his way, which really is true.

"Can we go now?"

He somewhat whines.

After the nurses agree that Tony's fit to go, Bruce turns and leaves the Hospital Wing, rubbing his neck and taking deep breaths to completely relax.

Watches him just walk away.

"Uh, okay. Now I'm on my own."

Glances at the nurses giving them an uncomfortable grin before slipping out of the chair and is off after Bruce, catching up at him.

"I've got to say, dragging me kicking and screaming and standing over me kinda makes me feel loved. Walking straight off afterwards, not so much."

Bruce turns back and glances over Tony's face, seeing that the injuries are mostly gone, and relaxes properly, tucking his hands into his pockets. "You don't want to feel loved by me anyway," he answers with a small smile. "I'll leave that for the ladies to give you."

He gives him a quiet look. Blinking he looks back a head, stuffing his hands into his pockets, becoming a little more obviously casual.

"Well, really I'd like everyone to love me. It's easier to get man of the year that way. Of course, doing things to improve mankind will also help there."

"Man of the year? Aren't you a bit young to be trying for GQ or any of those magazines?" he asked, chuckling and glancing away. "Anyway, breakfast. I think I dragged you away from that."

"Hey, I was on Time's cover after my parents die. So why not find a reason to legitimately be on there for something I've got going on?"

He grins and gives a shrug.

"I ate some bacon, I should be good till lunch."

He gives him a smile, wanting to say thanks for caring, but unable to do so.

Bruce nods at the smile, returning it himself and shaking his head. "Bacon isn't enough, I'm the only one allowed to go around with the appetite of an anorexic person."

"Not true. Because no matter how you look at it, I'm thinner than you. My hair doesn't have as much volume."

He grins even more.

"Not thinner - scrawnier. You don't have any muscle, midget," he snorts, poking Tony's sides. "Come on, we can probably get you a roll or something before class."

Batting away Bruces hand, Tony stops and looks affronted.

"Um, I think you'll find I have a fantastic two pack under here. For my age I think you'll find... That this is actually impressive."

He huffs slightly. As if a little put out that Bruce hadn't known this.

Bruce snorts and ceases poking him, walking on. "Come on, Mr. Two Pack, let's get you proper breakfast."

He puts his hands on his hips for a moment.

"You know, I'm going to make it a four, just to spite you. You hear me?"

Then he follows him.

"Good, because you interrupted a desperate need for waffles."

"You do that," he snorts, shaking his head and still walking. "You know too many waffles are just going to make that two pack disappear under your tub?"

"You know, this digging at my vanity thing. It's really mean."

He speeds up to walk beside Bruce and is quite for a long moment.

"I'm still having those waffles."