#hieronymus gaunt

[i-am-a-scholar-of-magic]

Extras Profile: Principal Bump

One of the grand positives of “The Owl House” is that it devotes exceptional care to what I call the Big Three story elements: setting, characters, and - even more in the second season - plot. One facet of the characters is the truly incredible variety and creativity of the character design, from the main characters, to recurring and even minor characters. 

An excellent example is Principal Hieronymus Bump. 

Bump is introduced in the series’s third episode, a gaunt-faced older man in an academic robe with long fingernails and what looks like a parasitic imp covering the top of his head and face. Seems the perfect set-up for an Evil Teacher character, right? Initially, his personality seems to match his appearance as he comes off as creepy and sinister, much like most cartoon principals, and very powerful. He seemingly gleefully suggests dissection and then works very hard to capture Luz — unaware that she is human — and Willow with a security system and a small army of Abominations. He is, however, taken by surprise by Willow’s power with Plant magic. 

It is here and after the dust settles that we get our first look at his true character. Rather than be angry at being magically suckerpunched by one of his students, he marvels at Willow’s talents and instead of punishing her for cheating and property damage, transfers her to the Plant track of Hexside, where she will be happy studying what she loves instead of failing in a track she is terrible at. This is surprisingly kind for such a sinister-looking guy. Even more, he merely bans Luz from Hexside rather than, say, calling the authorities on her. 

Bump’s next appearance is at the Covention as the announcer for the Emperor’s Coven presentation. He shows a bombastic, showman side to his personality, chewing the scenery for the crowd. This side would show up much later during the Grom fight when King has nerves and Gus goes to comfort him. He also has a very brief, but telling interaction with a then-unnamed Mattholomule. Bump rhetorically asks what the height of magical achievement is, and Matt demonstrates inflating his own head, then falls under his own weight to crush a nearby student. Rather than chastise Matt, he claims to have “failed [Matt] as a principal.” This demonstrates some serious humility. 

Principal Bump continues to characterize himself as a rather reasonable man who gruffly cares for his students and school. He accepts Eda enrolling Luz in Hexside, after Eda works for several hours to clear up lingering problems from her own school days, and listens to his students when they try to explain themselves, such as Gus taking the fall for the destruction of the detention pit. 

When Luz officially joins, he does his best to conform to lawful policy by placing her in a single track — his choice of Potions track is likely either taking into account Luz’s lack of innate magic or the idea that Eda can help her along in the woman’s own former magic track — and when Luz is caught using magic outside her track, he places her in the Detention track to keep her out of sight of the inspector that would decide whether to fund extensive repairs to the school. 

Though this may seem harsh, Luz’s own antics are what led to the destruction that needed to be repaired, and he is doing his job in making sure the facilities are running well. Is it fair? No, but he’s doing his best. When the inspector turns out to be a basilisk that rampages through the school and all of the detention students bring it down with mixed magic, Bump is at first ready to dig in his heels and expel them all, but it only takes the words of a few students to convince him to try a multitrack policy. How quickly he flips on this gives a strong indicator that he had been considering these students’ wellbeing for quite some time and was using this as an opportunity for them. 

Bump has a few small appearances in the rest of the season. One is commenting on Boscha supposedly getting away with murder, claiming he does not approve but is happy she’s “trying new things.” This is a reflection of Hexside’s occasional lax in student safety (such as teacher’s egging on a fight between students) and the more brutal culture of the Boiling Isles. Another is during Eda’s petrification, he supports Eda being freed and joins the crowd in calling for it. 

Bump’s struggles between policy and his conscience continue when the Parent-Creature Association - led by Odalia Blight - puts pressure on him to expel Luz, Willow, and Gus. Though clearly reluctant and shown to genuinely miss the three, even crying at turning them away, he claims to have no choice. This is resolved by outside forces and the students clearly bear him no ill will. We also learn from this incident that he is a member of the Abomination Coven. 

Bump is next seen leading the Palisman Adoption Program at Hexside alongside Eda. Here, we learn that the imp upon his head is actually his palisman, Frewin, who helps him see. Beneath his palisman mask, he is missing an eye and has long, dark hair that reaches his ankles, something this watcher was definitely not expecting. He also demonstrates a strong passion for palisman-witch/demon bonding and affection for Frewin. 

In flashbacks and anecdotes, we get a little more information on Bump’s past. Luz shows that he was on the frontlines of conquering Hexside’s rival in his youth, apparently leading the charge. Eda’s extended flashback in “Them’s The Breaks, Kid” shows that his reasonable nature was once in contest with a nearly psychotic principal whom he served as vice-principal in Eda’s school days. He seemed to often speak up against Faust’s extremely harsh policies, to the point where Faust stuck him with chaperoning infamous troublemaker Eda in a bid to have him fired. Bump shows support to Eda during this time despite his job being on the line and praises her when she stands up for what is right even at the apparent cost of his own career. He even politely stands up to Terra Snapdragon, a coven head, when many students are endangered by her, and this courage is enough to earn her respect and have her salvage his job. 

Bump’s protectiveness of his students is once again demonstrated when Adrian Greye and Emperor's Coven scouts invade the school to forcibly brand the student body into covens. He not only stands bodily in the way of a scout captain threatening Edric - a known troublemaker - but plans and leads an attack on the Emperor’s Coven to save his students, then smugly suggests that the captain should keep quiet. 

Finally, Bump was captured by the Collector’s spies trying to protect the school, and is given a statue in his honor by the student body. By the time he returns, he is welcomed with applause by the school. His final moments in the epilogue are seen gardening in presumed peaceful retirement and attending Luz’s eighteenth birthday party. 

All in all, Bump remains an excellent example of a character that grew far beyond their original appearance, yet remained consistent in their character, not to mention having a great design. To quote the famed Wheel of Time, Bump has enough layers “as to make an onion appear an apple.”

Thanks for reading! More to come …!

[jesickachaos]

I needed a pick-me-up, so here’s a heaping pile of self-indulgence with my three favs @paragon-interrupt @hellodirigibles

***

“I can’t believe One-eye took down that shack. He knows we use it when we pass through.“ 

Soibhan slammed the door shut behind her, closing them all in a thick, not unpleasant darkness. It was comforting after wandering the roads looking for a place to rest long after the dubious safety of the sun had vanished. 

"Mr. Tucker—” Hiero said, with careful emphasis, “—had fresh lumber stacked there. It’s just our bad luck we stopped by when we did, and I’m sure next time we will have a much cozier shack to uh, shack up in." 

Will snorted as he removed his soaked overcoat and hung it from the hook jutting out of the low ceiling, one they’d placed there last time just for that purpose. The garment dripped steadily in front of the cold fireplace, but the water would disappear soon after the fire was started. 

This particular shack was a single room, little larger than a sparse room at most inns, and made with the express purpose of housing Ginterghasts after dark—or some very unlucky farmer with a broken wagon wheel. The too-small bed frame was bent in the middle, and it hadn’t been that way when they’d visited last time…at least, not until they’d left. The mattress was comfortable enough, however, something they could say with all confidence. A simple round table sat against one wall, with a single chair with uneven legs. The wood they’d gathered and left before sat in its box, untouched. 

The little shack served its purpose for those caught out after dark needing shelter, but it would never win any awards for real comfort. 

"At least this place has fond memories,” Will said, his grin sly as he continued stripping off his wet clothes. The rainwater had sluiced away most of the wight ichor from their clothing, but they all desperately needed a bath and a launder, neither of which they would be getting tonight. 

Soibhan dropped their packs in the corner, scabbarded sword following. “Maybe we can bend the bed frame back the other way.”

Having gone to fuss with the fireplace, Hiero sputtered as he dropped dried wood down on the old coals. The tips of his ears turned red as he fussed with flint and tinder, but he’d schooled his face before turning back to them, the fire popping to life behind his back. 

“Next time you decide to try a new weapon, let’s find some grimalkin for you to skewer, instead of a pack of bargheists.” He was trying to change the topic and they both let him. He eyed her as she removed her leather bracers and vest and set them on the table. Her shirt came next. Bargheist teeth had turned the arms into ribbons, but it was her skin beneath that Hiero cared about. He winced at the long gashes left by ragged fangs and sighed, pulling his satchel from his shoulder. 

"It would’ve been fine if that big red beastie hadn’t shown up with a dozen of its friends.” Her undershirt was stained turquoise in places and spattered with red droplets in others. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a couple of scratches.”

Hiero pursed his lips and pointed at her arms, which looked like bargheist chewing toys. “What is your definition of ‘a couple?’”

Grinning, she gave them both a very pointed look. “I thought we established that it was three?”

Hiero’s cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink and he turned away to rummage in his satchel, but Soi could see that he was trying very hard to hide his pleasure behind a reprimand. 

“That is quite more than three wounds, Soibhan.”

Will met her pleased gaze and couldn’t hide his own smile. 

“You know, I don’t think the dagger suits you,” he said, settling in the chair to remove his boots and brace. He winced as he loosened the straps and slid it free, leaning it carefully against the wall beside his boots. He had some aches and a bite across his hand, but as usual, Soibhan had taken the brunt of the attack for them. They kept trying to break her of the habit, especially when trying to wield a damned dagger that she wasn’t used to. “Too small. Maybe you should try axes next." 

"Axes,” Soibhan said, a thoughtful smile curling her lips just as Hiero said, “Axes?” with a look of long-suffering. 

“The reach isn’t much better with an axe,” she added, biting her lip as she pantomimed holding one. She tilted her head. “A bit better. I can swung farther if I grip the end of the handle, but I’ll have less control.” She hummed. “I need to buy some axes.”

Hiero sighed as he pushed her towards the table. “Sit, so I can dress these." 

"I thought the goal was to undress,” she said, letting out a little bark of laughter when Will snagged her hips and settled her on his lap instead of the table. 

“We’ll get to that,” he murmured, settling his face against the warm expanse of her back. He traced some of the scars there with his fingertips, his other hand reaching out for Hiero’s fingers and gripping them a second before letting go. They both knew Hiero needed the use of both hands to fix Soibhan’s hurts, but once that was done… “And what’s wrong with your perfectly good sword?" 

She glanced at it where it lay atop their packs, the blade clean and polished. The wear on the handle was extensive; it would need to be rewrapped soon. The blade was sharp as ever, but it had gained a few knicks over the last year. She knew where they were without even needing to look at the blade, and she clearly remembered where each one had come from. Like the little shack surrounding them, her sword held a lot of memories, but few of them were good.

"I want to make sure I can always fight back, even if I don’t have my sword. I don’t want to be caught off guard." 

Hiero held her arm, his touch gentle as he cleaned away blood and ichor, but he lifted his gaze to hers as Will wrapped his arms around her waist. 

"Soibhan,” he said, a familiar tone edging his words. “Even if you are caught off guard, you have two very capable men at your back.”

Will murmured agreement and nuzzled her neck. “We’re a team, after all. We’re supposed to shore up each other’s weaknesses and balance out our strengths. You don’t have to be strong at everything.”

Soibhan stared down at her arms. The left was already cleaned and bandaged; it would be healed before morning, but it made them all feel oddly better to go through the motions and pretend like they were still more normal than not. 

She didn’t like having weaknesses. Knowing they existed made her think of all the instances where those weaknesses might hurt…them. Her loves. The two most important things in her world. To cherish something so greatly left her with an unbending need to protect them, which led to that now familiar argument, the one that was hovering at the edge of the room. She didn’t want to argue, not tonight, especially when she knew the arguments were always her own fault. 

A deep sigh escaped her as she let her eyes slip closed and focused on the gentle touch of Hiero’s ministrations,  the weight of Will’s warm arms around her middle. They each held their own strengths and weaknesses, just as she did. She knew it, her mind knew it, but her heart always held the worry and that worry was so very loud. 

“I know, I know,” she whispered, brushing her fingertips along Will’s arms. “I’m sorry.”

“There,” Hiero said brusquely, patting her knee and pretending the mood wasn’t threatening a terrible downward turn. He eyed the bandages a moment before nodding and returning his salves and bandage rolls to their pockets. “Good as new.”

Soibhan pulled free of Will’s grasp and stood, grabbing Hiero’s arm before he could get away and swinging him around until she could wrap her arms around his waist and pull him in for a kiss. It was a warm, soft thing, full of love as she tried to turn that feeling of cherishing into a physical touch, so that they might understand how the emotion affected her. 

Hiero didn’t quite melt, but it was close, closer yet when Will came up behind her and let his hands wander up to snag Hiero’s. They linked their fingers together on either side of her until Soibhan broke the kiss and let her head fall back. Her gaze found Will’s and he leaned down to kiss her, the angle awkward and perfect all at once. 

They fell into the bed and nearly fell out of it again just as quickly, squirming and laughing until finally deciding that it would not do this time. Stripping the bed of its linen, they laid it on the floor in front of the fire and settled down in a comfortable, warm heap of tangled limbs. 

“Let’s try the daggers again,” Soibhan said, feeling warm and content as she watched the fire dance beyond their toes. “If you two distract our quarry, I can go in for the killing strike.”

“Mmm,” Will murmured. Hiero said nothing, but he wiggled closer. 

They would make love later, but as their breathing settled and their eyelids grew heavy, they decided that for now, cuddling was the best medicine after a day of many little hurts.  

[curiously-chaotic]

Writing Prompt #141: Who the fuck keeps stealing my doormat?

That first morning, it had simply been missing. Hiero stood staring at the front stoop in his robe and slippers, face pinched as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. It had taken all of Soibhan's willpower to keep from blowing it then and there. The only thing that kept her from giving everything away was the backhanded challenge Will had given her.

'You couldn't play poker against a barn. There's no way you'll keep a straight face.'

Full of pride and determination to prove him wrong, she sat at the kitchen table and ate her toast with a face utterly void of expression aside from a single cocked eyebrow aimed right at Will. It seemed to say, ‘see, I can keep a straight face just fine, asshole.’

But then things started to get elaborate. After replacing the missing item with an exact replica, Hiero opened the door one morning almost a week later to find it missing again, with something new in its place. A picture of a chimpanzee pointing and grinning sat on the stoop, beside a ripe banana. Soibhan knew, because she’d seen Will print it out that morning as he’d pulled a banana from his coat pocket.

A disgruntled noise echoed into the kitchen moments before Hiero stormed back inside, his slippers clacking smartly against the floor as he crumpled the picture up and tossed it into the trash without showing them what it was. The banana received that same pinched look before it was set on the counter.

“Everything okay?” Will asked, and he really was the best at this game. His feigned innocence was so perfect, Soibhan would never have suspected him. For her part, she had to hide her face behind her coffee mug before she choked on her own tongue.

“Everything’s….fine…”

It continued like that for a week. Hiero replaced the stolen item every time, refusing to admit defeat. He tossed everything left on the stoop in its place, his growing irritation evident in the way his disgusted noises changed in pitch and length each time. The banana had only been the start. A rather pathetic, sickly looking charlie brown christmas tree followed, all the more hilarious because it was the middle of June. Then came the god awful ceramic hamster, the stack of 1970s playboy magazines, an elaborately decorated royal purple throw pillow with gold fringe, an entire flock of lawn flamingos, and a pile of legos with a little flag in the middle. Each morning, Hiero looked close to having an aneurysm as he threw the things in the trash. Will, for his part, never cracked a smile and always seemed perfectly surprised and consoling. Soibhan found herself growing more and more desperate in her attempts to keep from laughing until she keeled over.

Then nothing happened, for weeks. Each morning, Hiero opened the kitchen door with trepidation, fully expecting to find a stoop covered by some stupid piece of crap instead of his rather dry but clearly very important ‘Welcome to our Home’ doormat. Will let him believe the culprits had stopped their thieving until Hiero could open the door again without fear or worry, his face instead holding a tiny, extremely satisfied smile at having outlasted his new, unseen nemesis.

Soibhan and Will lounged in bed one morning as Hiero rose at his customary crack of dawn. She curled away from the cold draft and started to bury herself back down into the blankets when a string of foul, vehement cursing shattered the quiet. The kitchen door slammed shut with a crack. Freezing, she peered up at Will, at the way he tried to hide the huge grin curling his lips. He pressed a fist to his mouth and his whole body shook with suppressed laughter.

“You did it again?”

At her question, he rolled away and stuffed his head under the pillows as a clattering came from the kitchen.

“Who the fuck keeps stealing my doormat?! For fuck’s sake, why the fucking doormat?!”

Will laughed so hard that the entire bed shook and he pointed at the closet, his head still lost beneath the pillows, his feet kicking a little. It took her a moment to see how the door seemed to bulge a bit, as if straining against the frame. Hearing more crashing and stomping in the kitchen, she crawled over Will and fell gracelessly to the floor before reaching the closet and yanking the door open. A yelp escaped her before she found herself buried under nearly two dozen heavy rubber doormats, all with the same message. ‘Welcome to our Home.’

“Why not the goddamn car or something. Fucking little shites—Soibhan!”

There he stood, face mottled red as his mouth dropped open in complete shock. Will looked like he was having a damn seizure under the blankets, but Hiero was ignoring him completely, betrayal written large on his face.

“How could you?”

“It wasn’t me!!” But it was too late, he was already storming out of the room and Will was falling onto the floor in his mirth.

“You know, Will. I think you broke him.”

Only a strangled wheeze answered.

[grlizzydraws]

"Excuse me," he interrupted. "I'm afraid I'm in need of this man's company for— for urgent Ginterghast business. Good day, madam," he said firmly, reaching out and closing the door in the old woman's face. It was perhaps the rudest thing he'd ever done in his entire life, and he appeared shocked by his own conduct when he looked at Niall afterwards, but that didn't keep him from holding the door shut as the old woman banged on it from inside.

[wisherqueen]

"She's asleep, finally."

Amiria looked up when he entered, shutting the door behind himself. The bottle of whiskey on the table was open, and she knew she looked like a mess. "You're quite cool." She mused, but the old line brought bitterness to her tongue. She snorted, and took another swig from the bottle before she folded over to put her head on her arms. She could hear him approaching her, but she didn't look up.

"She'll be alright, Amiria."

So cool, she thought, when he put his hand on her shoulder. Amiria finally raised her face from her arms to look at him. She'd been cool once. She didn't cry, but Will had. And now look at her, curled in his house like a dog with her tail between her legs,  unable to do a damn thing for her baby girl.

"We don't know that."

He opened his mouth to say something, but she just fingered his sleeve. ".. You're so good." She said, finally. His hand was on her shoulder, and suddenly she took a sharp breath, rubbing at her eyes with the heel of her hand. "I'm so sorry." She tried to stand, but she was unsteady feet. "I'll get it together. I will. I need to.." But she stumbled, and he had to catch her by the arm.

His grip was a bit tight.

"We'll save her, Amiria, I know we will." 

That was the straw that broke her. That was what made her fall into him, to sob. She don't know what made him hold her, but he did, and they clutched at one another like somehow they could absorb some kind of strength to deal with what had happened to her girl.

She didn't wonder why he held her. She didn't know.

And she didn't know why she wanted him, either. And not her Will.

As if he'd ever been hers to begin with.

As if anyone ever would be. 

[curiously-chaotic]

I'm just gonna leave this right here...

[wisherqueen]

"You have to."

Amiria stared up at him. The fever had set in, and the period where she would be lucid was flying from her fast. She knew it, he knew it, even her child knew it. Strange how the dying woman had to be the one to look things in the eye. Oh, she could still survive, possibly, but there were matters she had to attend to first. She had to consider the possibility she would not.

It was what she did for all her patients.

"Amiria, I'm not- stop being ridiculous, you'll be fine." He was trying to argue, though. Fumbling with potions, explanations. The more out of sorts he became the more arrogant he seemed, as if by increasing his poshness he could bully the illness into submission. Amiria squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head before she took a rattling breath.

"Don't. I'm bloody dying, Hiero. I'm not afraid for myself." Bloodshot eyes fought to stay open to meet his. "I won't be lucid much longer. Before it.. happens.. I need to know. I need to know she'll be looked after. That someone will be there for her."

"Why don't you ask-"

"Not Will." Her heart twisted in her chest. "He can't. He isn't.." She licked her lips. ".. I can't leave her with someone as broken as he will be, Hiero. I won't. I need her to be.. she needs to be with the best person for her." Mercenary to the last, wasn't she? The thought made her choke out a laugh that turned into coughs, and she felt a small hand take hers. Val.

But her girl wasn't here. She'd forbid it.

So it was starting already.

Amiria welcomed it, though, turning to face a child much too small to be her girl. She smiled, faintly, as she squeezed at fingers, and she heard Hiero suck in a breath. "My girl is so beautiful." What had she been trying to do? It seemed so important, but Valerie smiled. "She won't pay for it. She never will. She's so good.. better than us both. It's why Will left. He knew.." Was she crying? Or was it just wet? "He knew we weren't good enough."

".. I'll do it. I promise."

"No you won't, Will." She closed her eyes. "I don't trust moon promises."