[mp] like a pilot, on a path with no lines [lip]

It was amazing how she always found herself on babysitting duty despite being an only child. Boys were hard enough to control as is, but little boys were a whole new equation. Although she supposed she had eleven-year-old Marcus to thank for her costume today.

Jazz hadn't planned on dressing up at all. She was sixteen, she was Quidditch captain, and she was really trying to establish herself as an artist to be taken seriously. But Marcus, bless the boy and his obsession with muggle superhero comic books, had shown her a picture of Bumblebee, and, well... Yellow was her colour, and the outfit was ridiculously easy to recreate, not to mention extremely flattering. She drew a line at wings though; if anyone happened to recognise her and ask where Bumblebee's wings were, she'd just say she lost them in a super-fight or something. Those seemed to happen a lot in Marcus' comic books.

Still, she was definitely telling her aunt that Marcus was due for some sort of punishment when they went home for the holidays, because despite Jazz's constant warnings for him to hold her hand, he'd somehow managed to wriggle free and get. Himself. Lost. How was she supposed to find him now?! Hogsmeade was packed with students and vendors, and Marcus had only been allowed to come as a special treat for younger students. If he managed to get himself in trouble and cause future treats to be revoked forever, then he'd have a horrible time amongst his peers, and Jazz will feel terrible forever for allowing that to happen on her watch.

(Of course, he was probably just with other first years at Honeydukes or the joke shop, which, later, Jazz realised was the first place she should've looked.)

She had to pretend everything was alright and normal, something she was becoming increasingly adept at, and despite the inner anxiety, found herself still having some fun. There were a few questioning looks regarding her outfit, especially since not many of her peers were dressed up, but it felt pretty good to not really care about what other people thought of her. At least that was until she bumped into her ex-boyfriend, who looked like he was equally frazzled as she was. The bad thing about milling around with friends she knew more superficially, and drifting off when she got bored, instead of a fixed group, was that there was no one for her to hide behind. It was not like she was forced to acknowledge Phillip, but given their familiarity it was also much too awkward for Jazz to ignore him. It was probably better to say something and get it over with, which was what she ultimately chose to do.

"Lost cargo? Or are you just here to enjoy the sights?" She raised her right eyebrow in a not particularly kind manner, referring to the small blonde girl she was used to seeing at his side by now. She had no real reason to dislike the younger Ravenclaw. Phillip and her were broken up, more or less peacefully, and she wasn't jealous of her or anything. It was just... complicated, and Jazz hated these messy feelings. She shouldn't even have any feelings in the first place, which was what made the whole situation even more annoying. She managed to give him an awkward, jerky smile, fighting every instinct that told her to just run back to the castle.

@Phillip Donnelly

Being a Prefect sucked.

Phillip knew it was going to from the minute they had sent the stupid pin in the mail with his book list last year. He avoided wearing it whenever possible, ignored the rules he was supposed to be enforcing, and generally set a bad example any where he went. He was sure they had made a mistake a first assigning him the role but now he was certain it was actually some sick twisted punishment. Some nonsense meant to inspire him to greatness, as if they could. He was onto their games and he wouldn't be tricked into becoming exactly want they wanted: another sheep.

Despite the obvious pit falls of having any kind of responsibility the badge had come in handy once or twice. Allowing him to go to the Hogsmeade Halloween festival despite the fact that he had detention was one of the very rare times it had actually been useful. He had been assigned Haunted House duty so it wasn't like he was really able to enjoy the day (not that he would of) but it was better than cleaning the trophy cases for the hundredth time. He was supposed to help watch over the younger students and make sure the monsters didn't accidentally get hold of anyone. Phillip, naturally, had come to obvious conclusion that not having monsters in the first place would have been more practical but the Wizarding world wasn't practical. For some reason unknown to the sixth year Ravenclaw it seemed the adults at Hogwarts were hell-bent on putting their students in danger.

He'd been standing near the haunted attraction for a little under an hour, trying to drown out the sounds of screaming first years with the Arithmancy formula he was trying to memorize when Jazz spoke to him. Shrugging he couldn't help but take a second look at her outfit before replying. "Oh I'm on duty." He flicked the pin that was nearly falling off his tattered charcoal grey sweater with a bit of disdain before rolling his eyes. "Supposed to make sure none of the poltergeists come out attached to a first year..." It was obvious from his sarcastic tone of voice that he did not at all take this task seriously.

Motioning toward her costume he tilted his head to the side for a moment. "Who are you supposed to be?" He asked, not recognizing the get up. Phillip was knowledgeable about a lot of things, random obscure things, but comic books and pop culture were certainly not something he was familiar with. It wouldn't be a stretch to say he lived a bit under his own moody little rock.

Make sure none of the poltergeists come out attached to a first year. Jazz couldn't help but smile at that comment, a real one this time. Phillip, knowingly or not, could be pretty funny at times. Really it probably just stemmed from his tendency to find almost everything and everyone tedious, but comments like this where he just complained about how... domestic life could be were almost nice. Nicer than those coming from the gigantic ship on his shoulder, at least.

Jazz gave a little twirl—she had a few seconds to be a little vain—when he mentioned her costume. "Obviously, I'm a bee. The yellow and black stripes?" Jazz thought the outfit was pretty self-explanatory. She knew he probably meant who she was supposed to be, and followed up with, "Kidding, I'm this muggle picture book character called Bumblebee, based on the, well, actual bee. I don't know, it's American humour I suppose. I'm not allowed to call them picture books though, they're supposed to be really deep or something according to my little cousin Marcus, who–" Damn.

A long, long sigh later, she crossed her arms. The previous tenseness was back on her face and she wished her hair wasn't in buns so she could play with her curls. Jazz really didn't like asking for favours, especially when said favour involved an ex. But at the same time, she was really trying to be 'responsible' or something now that she's getting older, and losing your cousin on his first Hogsmeade trip really wasn't a good example of that. "I don't suppose you could step away for a couple of minutes," it didn't hurt to ask, "I kinda... lost said little cousin and, hey, it'll get you out of present misery."

Her expression made it clear that he was free to say no. In fact, she almost preferred it, because what would they even say to each other on the way? Polite and ineffectual small talk? She didn't think she could bear it, talking to him like a completely unfamiliar stranger. Jazz smiled wryly, "It'd come in real handy if you prefects had an information network set up here, then I'll be out of your hair in two minutes."

@Samm ahh i tried, sorry it's not very good >> just trying to move things along!