Accidentally On Purpose || thatsjusthowlroll
At first it was an accident.
The man, Aaron Richards, had been shouting at his wife, Allie, the entire time that they walked through the city- and Brandon had said nothing, not a coward, but he knew for a fact that some fights were best left unfought- but that was until he saw Richards raise his hand to strike his wife and before he could even think he was taking a step forwards. It turned out at least that he didn't actually need to walk over, because as soon as Richards hit Allie the injury inflicted back on himself, hit after hit only turning him black and blue and making him spew out more colourful language than he thought one person could possess.
Brandon left with a confused look in his eye and a smirk on his face.
The third and fourth times he accidentally used his- well Brandon wasn't entirely sure what this was, or why this was happening, it was a well meant accident. It wasn't karma like what he had taken to calling his accidental self(?)-beating up of Richards, nor any other one thing that drove Brandon to act- so to speak- but more the fact that the people that Brandon bugged with his powers were just general dicks. They practically had it coming regardless of what Brandon could now do.
Practically. He did make a point of not being consciously angry after that.
By the time that he had all but taken his powers under complete control, he was able to do all sorts. Manifesting money was one thing, which in his mind wasn't stealing, because the money didn't exactly come from anywhere, to being able to start fires with a simple thought which he had made a point of not doing when it came to others, everything made sense to him. Aside from where the powers came from in the first place.
His mother had always said that he was special
It was only when he accidentally on purpose managed to send somebody to hospital did he realise that maybe yes, you ought to keep a little tighter lid on your talents. And then the research, which got him nowhere started, because what else could he do? It's not like he could tell anybody without seeming crazy or getting some sarcastic response along the lines of Of course you're special Brandon, now why don't you go and play Quidditch like the rest of your magical friends. Assholes, the lot of them.
He ought to have gotten an award for the way he kept his cool after that.
But finally, after spending far too much time researching he headed to the bar, unable to stop his mothers old comment of you spend too much time in front of that computer and your eyes will go square, entering his head. And shit, please tell me that the man that he just passed in the bar didn't have square eyes. That was the last thing he needed right now.
Square eyes. Shit.
Maybe a beer was a good idea, it might at least stop the metaphors from entering his head and people- like the man in the bar- being rushed to hospital. So ignoring the now drama in the bar he sat down on a barstool and ordered a beer.
One beer couldn't hurt, right?
