whataretitles?

(Sadly, I cannot make the carnival threads just yet so I'm moving the entire event up a few days, to the 12th. It'll still last the same amount of days, though! So no worries. For now, I really wanna rp a thing so have a Maybell thing

also I think I wrote too much sorry feel free to ignore this)

Maybell sighed, chin resting on her notebook as she kept her eyes on her ever irritating interpreter. She had to admit, having him around helped her keep up in class, but for god's sake did he have to stand up by the board where everyone could see him? Shit like this was why people made fun of her, well actually there were a few other reasons. She also used to have a lisp, which was a living hell when combined with her deaf accent. But still, Johnson wasn't doing her any favors and she was starting to think she preferred struggling to keep up to having him making it so completely obvious she was different.

She had taken out her hearing aids at the start of class and they now sat near her chin, leaving it so the ambience of the world was replaced with.. nothing. Complete silence, it was usually quite peaceful not having to hear the chaotic sound of people talking, well she assumed it was better. She hadn't been able to hear since she was three, so she had no real idea of what hearing was like accept for what her hearing aids granted her. Which was, unfortunately, not much.

She twiddled her thumbs absentmindedly, having took her eyes off Johnson for a few minutes which led to her completely missing her name-sign being repeated. Twice, then thrice, until both Johnson and the teacher gave up and instead had the girl sitting next to her get her attention, which she did by freezing a small layer of frost on Maybell's shoulder, which almost instantly melted but was certainly enough to draw her attention.

It was just a question, a simple one at that. Or at least, it was so simple even Maybell new the answer just about instantly. So there should have been no problem, she should have been able to just answer, but alas there were quite a bit of people in her Charms class which meant there was no way she'd speak aloud, instead focusing her attention in on Johnson and starting to sign the answer to him, which was exactly where the problem decided to rear it's ugly little head.

Now, Maybell wasn't very versed in magic so like a lot of lesser witches, she sometimes accidentally casted spells. Unlike some, the spells tended to be overly powerful and they happened a lot since her main method of conversing was signing. Why do I tell you this? Because as she answered the question, she sent a gust of wind blowing around the room a few times, sending things falling of tables and some of the particularly small students slipping out of their desks, which included Magpie who was one minute making a small squeal of surprise at what she caused and the next sitting on the ground, her hair, and many other's a mess, and her notebooks strewn across the floor with so many others. Even the teacher's glasses had found their way flying off her face and cracking against the ground. Magic would make that easy enough to fix, but Maybell's little indoor tornado was enough to piss off many

((I was worrying about that!! :O I got worried when I didn't see it yesterday.
I'm gonna just reply to this with a less-than-great-as-that answer ok? Because writing is hard.))

Why must hands be so hard? PJ grumbled internally to himself as he erased a part of his doodle and began again. He sat in the back in charms, hidden mostly by a guy almost as astoundingly tall as he was, so when he doodled it rarely if ever got noticed. He wasn't the best at paying attention, but always seemed to get pretty average grades, so trying harder to be stellar at his subjects was never really a concern. Occasionally, PJ would look up, though, so he could familiarize himself with what was being taught in case he got asked a question. It usually meant him listening for a few moments or reading what was on the board, which in the latter case he would push his rimless reading glasses up the bridge of his nose, as the letters would be blurry nonsense without them.

Now, though, PJ did not listen nor look up, for he was too focused on getting his drawing to look right. One elbow rested on the desk and held up his chin while the other twirled a pencil between two fingers as he considered his work. It was a pretty woman, a goddess, maybe, who appeared to be a mixture of Maybell and the blond, icy girl who sat beside her (this was because they were perfectly in his line of sight across the room). She had on a very big, flowy sundress that hid her feet, but only because PJ had not finished her legs yet. Her hands were clasped together next to her cheek (or will be, once he got them to look right), her eyes were closed, and out the side of her head, growing through the waves of dark, long hair, was a tree branch, brimming with ivy and Spanish moss and squirrels and hummingbirds flitting from flower to flower. It was very lovely, and looked like he had put a lot of work into it, if only he could get the anatomy of her knuckles right...

Suddenly, what started as a breeze of air tickling his ear turned into a whirlwind that caused his picture to go flying across the room, his glasses to fall (safely, thankfully) on the floor, and his pouch of pencils to fall off his desk and cause all sorts of art utensils to roll around. With a jump and gasp of surprise, he looked up and around, noticing that lots of other people's things had fallen as well. After a survey of the room, he came to the conclusion that everyone was silently staring at Maybell, so it must of been her accident. Instead of getting mad like them, though, he stood slowly, walked around his desk, and picked up and put on his glasses. Next, he went to retrieve his art supplies and put them back in the pouch. When some eyes started glaring at him, he gave a soft smile and shrug.
"What?" PJ inquired, looking around at some of them. "It was an accident, right? Might as well just...clean up...right?" As more and more turned to look at him, he was getting a bit unsure as to whether this whole 'cleaning up' thing was a good idea. His ulterior motive for going to collect his things did work though--almost everyone had their attention on him now, not glaring accusingly at Maybell, which made his plan to hopefully embarrass her less was a success.

(No need to worry, I should have the threads up after school tomorrow if we have school.. if not, I'll probably release them earlier than that if I can get some things set up earlier
This is good practice for writing at length so I am happy with whatever you deliver <3)

Maybell stayed in her position on the ground, too nervous to get up for the moment. Her usual, chipper mood replaced completely with a sort of self loathing as people glared and she gathered up her objects and replaced them on her desk and she had just begun to pick up the belongings that belonged to the girl in the desk next to her, having been prodded until she begun, when she noticed turning their attention to the opposite end of the room and she paused her scurrying, her gaze following there's. She watched PJ, though the distance was too far for her to be able read his lips.

Without much thought, she gently and quietly placed her neighbor's books on top of her desk and made her way to her desk, trying not to make any sound as to avoid the attention. Luckily she managed to remain silent, even though she had no way to tell what her level of noise was. She plopped back down into her seat and, stacking her books back on top of each other, she turned as best she could to gaze up at the clock, hoping that any god's that may exist would show her mercy and end the class soon.

Meanwhile, as the students acted like some sort of creepy hive mind, the teacher knealt and picked up her own glasses,  running a finger of the crack in the lens and muttering something. Soon enough, there was no more crack and she stood back up, slipping her glasses back on and saying something to Johnson, who simply nodded as she too checked the clock. Only a few minutes until the class ended,  but no point in trying to pick back up where Maybell had interrupted. With a sigh, she attempted to gather her students' attention as Johnson set about cleaning, magically of course. With a wave of his hands, books restacked themselves and even a few hairdo's straightened themselves. A book that went flying by bumped into Magpie's head and she made a small, disgruntled sound, not noticing the attempts at gathering the student's body's attention.

But the teacher was failing anyways and it wasn't until she said she was letting them out early that they seemed to gather any of her words, grabbing their things Johnson had sent back to their desks. It wasn't clear if Maybell took notice at this point, for she didn't move except to tuck her legs further under her desk and lower her head, closing her eyes tightly and wishing this sort of thing didn't happen nearly as often as it did. Avoiding being made a fool of because of one thing meant she caused stuff like that to happen, but this was far from the worse thing she had done. No, if she had done anything nearly as bad as the last thing she might have to switch schools again.

Slowly, as the last students left, she risked a glance up to see if lifting her head was okay. It was only in that moment that she realized it was time to pack up and she smiled lightly, though it didn't reach her eyes. Though she had a few other things to do now that school was over, no one from this class usually attended and even if she did... her cousin Nick tended to be good at getting people to leave her alone.

That and being forced to join your Father's after school program had it's benefits, such as a safe haven he didn't realize he was providing.