Weathered PV Bridget Collins Finished

@Flash Holmwood

Her brief deliberation over whether or not to follow had cost her precious seconds in which Flash could have easily disappeared in the labyrinth of Hogwarts corridors, but Bridget had gotten lucky; he was still in sight, only just rounding a distant corner. She hurried after at a bit of a run, pausing only long enough to tuck her wand back into her boot. It wasn't like she would be needing it anymore.

Thunder boomed and she could hear the rain pattering against the windows. It certainly set the mood for a Halloween-themed ball. The question of what she was going to say ran through her thoughts; she really had no clue how he would react. Bridget knew the reasonable, polite Flash, and the closest thing they'd ever had to a personal conversation was her sharing her worries about bringing up the curse with her parents. She decided she would just deal with it when she got there and could gauge how things were going.

Bridget finally managed to catch up. She wasn't really sure where he was going--it didn't look like he was going down to the Common Room--but maybe he had just needed to get away from the Ball in general. Away from the rest of the school with the only other noise the raging storm outside, her footsteps were easily heard and turned towards her.

She hadn't really been sure what to expect, but the fact he acknowledged her presence was a good thing. "It's fine," she assured him. It was the sort of thing people said without thinking, but there were no hard feelings over his actions earlier. It was true that she hadn't had the fun time at the Ball she'd been hoping for, but that was mostly the fault of some Durmstrang boy who'd decided to stomp on her pumpkin. Had his response earlier hurt a bit? Well, yes. But the fact he was apologizing pretty much made up for it and she was honestly more worried about him.

Now came the uncomfortable part. Bridget had come a long way from how socially awkward she'd been throughout her first year and into her second, and no amount of uncomfortable conversations made things any less awkward, but at least she wasn't unaccustomed to the feeling. Besides, she'd done a decent job of comforting her friends before, not that she really knew how she'd done that. Flash wasn't exactly a friend, at least not yet, but how different was it, truly? What counted was that she cared about him, which was the whole reason she'd come after him at all.

The actual talking part couldn't be any less comfortable than standing in silence, right? Needing something to do to minimize her own nerves, she crossed her arms. "Um... Are you okay?" It occurred to her once the words were out that maybe that wasn't the best way to go about getting him to actually share, but she really didn't know how else to do it, and besides, it was too late now. What was the use of beating around the bush, anyway? Maybe she didn't know him that well, but she knew him well enough to know whatever had happened at the Ball wasn't normal. And maybe she wasn't the person he was willing to open up to, but it was worth trying.

Bridget dismissed his bad behavior, causing him to scrunch his brow in scrutiny. Feeling a deep well of anxiety stir within him, he clutched his mask in both hands, running his finger across one of the feathers to try to soothe himself. If she hadn't followed him for an apology, then what was it? She likely saw the punch he threw, perhaps she wanted to chastise him for being no better than Rafael at the Blossom Ball. His mind raced with unhappy scenarios, ones that began and ended with Bridget's presumed dissappointment in him.

There was a short pause, flashing light from the rattling windows casting shadows on the wall beside them in the otherwise dimly lit corridors. This wasn't an area students were really supposed to be in at the moment, though it wasn't yet strictly against the rules. Flash's breath was being held when she asked him if he was okay. A semi-confused sputter came from his mouth, as he began to avoid making eye contact.

At this point, it was becoming obvious. Still, it was charitable of Bridget to take his strange behavior as a sign that he was hurting, rather than the... tantrum that it was. She was observant and smart, it wasn't a shock that she had figured it out. Still, he thought he was safe from confronting it with her. Either he had underestimated her penchant for intervention, or her growing attachment to him. That was the problem with getting close to people-- they started caring.

"I'm..." Flash started to talk, but he was merely filling the void as he tried to think of what to say. He was so done with hiding all the chips and cracks, but his fear of losing her was overwhleming. Certainly she would find him disgusting... pathetic... sad... since in reality, that was the kind of person he really was. "I'm not... okay..."

The feather between his fingers was being abused, near breaking. Flash's breath was short, irregular. He hated being in this position, but at the same time, the openness was freeing. He had been dodging similar questions since school started again, suffering in silence in hopes that things would settle back down in his mind, like a pond after having a large rock thrown into it. Instead, it was getting worse.

"I didn't want anyone to know, but..." Thunder rolled again, this time causing Flash to flinch. He was trying to concentrate on saying the right thing. "It's hard to... keep it all together."

He looked around hopelessly, knowing his words were so vague as to mean nothing. Likely, she would want something more concrete. Taking a deep breath to even himself out, he started again.

"I've been trying to figure it out. The hags, the curse... I was sure that if I applied myself enough, asked the right questions, kept an eye out... I would get somewhere, but..." Flash cringed, his self-hatred rearing its ugly head. "I've learned so much, but I'm getting nowhere. I feel like... I'm running in circles. It's driving me insane."

@Bridget Collins

@Flash Holmwood

She waited while he struggled with what to say. There was no rush, nowhere they had to be. Between the lack of eye contact and irregular breathing, she wouldn't have believed him if he'd said he was fine. When he finally started explaining, she simply listened quietly, giving him as long as he needed.

Her eyes traced the lines in the stone flooring as he described a struggle she was all too familiar with. She wondered what exactly about it affected him the most. The fear of what could happen? The feeling of uselessness? The hope for a solution slipping away? It was likely a combination of all three that was, as he'd put in, driving him insane. It wasn't fair that those of them who recognized the gravity of their situation and understood the Professors couldn't protect them were the ones giving away their free time to find answers and still coming up empty-handed.

The conversation reminded her of one she'd had with Illowy a while back. Her friend had been struggling with the curse and the very real possibility it was something she might be stuck with. Bridget had told her that they were still just kids, children that weren't supposed to be brave or have all the answers. Her suggestion had been to go to the Professors, because that had been the logical solution; Illowy had been tired of not knowing and the Professors hadn't been keeping them updated on what they'd found. But that wouldn't work this time. From what she could tell, Flash didn't trust the staff. Besides, the root of his current state seemed to be feeling like all the responsibility was on him. Their previous interactions came to mind, the way his mood would always darken when admitting to a lack of progress. All that had hinted at this, hadn't it?

She wasn't sure what to tell him. This wasn't a problem she could fix, at least not anytime soon. She'd been trying to find answers for six months now, searching for anything to go off of, and just like he'd described, she knew a lot, just not what she wanted to know. A memory of their first meeting came to mind, when she'd told him the fact he was bothering to look for a cure at all was impressive. She didn't believe that now. Just because it wasn't his curse didn't mean it wasn't his problem. The same was true with the hags. Maybe he hadn't been cursed, but the threats were still out there. And besides, the bad things had happened to his friends. Opeila was cursed, Sylvian could've died in the Forbidden Forest, and she was pretty sure his friend Willow Anderson had been stung at the Blossom Ball. At least for her, watching her friends suffer and not being able to do anything about it was far worse than being the one suffering.

"I get it." She paused briefly, trying to figure out what to say. "I- I feel the same way, too. A lot. But... you don't have to do this alone. It's not just on you to fix everything."

Flash's brow tugged upwards in confusion once again when she said it-- that she felt the same way. His mouth was dry, but he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Bridget was so often even-tempered, the slight stumbling in her words threw him for a loop. He had been so lost in his pursuits that he hadn't even considered for a moment that everyone else caught up in this thing were suffering the same as he was. Of course they were, how had he missed it? He looked slightly bewildered for a moment, a blind spot in his thought process washing over him. The truth was, he was selfish to the core. Obsessively introspective, always fighting for relevance and attention.

When he had been at Opeila's bedside after the attacks, he felt guilty. For not being bitten, for not being able to prevent her from being bitten. He thought if he could figure out what happened, he could find a cure. Him, a child. He was rich, connected, had a mind for thoughtful investigation, an eye for others like himself that could expand his net, but his confidence was pulled to near breaking. Over and over again, he kept coming up against a wall. It was too dangerous, too hidden, too powerful... and no matter what he devoted to it, it evaded him. He resorted to following pointless leads on the offchance that it might lead to any new information, his paranoia had grown so monstrous as to make him distrustful of the entire staff. Even at that moment, he had a journal nearly filled to the brim with rambling scribbles, trying to intuit the hidden meaning behind innocuous actions he observed.

He couldn't go on like this. At the same time, he didn't know how to step off the train. He couldn't simply slide back into ignorance, continue about his days as if nothing was happening, suddenly start trusting people he knew could kill him if he kept his back turned for too long. Flash's eyes darted around the room as he searched for an answer, but Bridget's words swam in his head. Not alone... of course, he gathered allies on purpose, he knew the strength in numbers, the way they accounted for each others' weaknesses, watched each others' backs. Naturally it was beneficial to surround oneself with other people. That wasn't what she meant though, there was something important he was missing. Something he continually missed in his foray into the world of social interaction. Something he was taught not to do.

"I know that... in principle..." Flash's voice was unfiltered, whiny. "But I can't just not know. I can't just not try. It's so frustrating!"

Flash felt like throwing his mask as hard as he could-- why did he always end up wanting to throw things? He was able to keep in control however, he wasn't boiling over. Like the punch, admitting to his frustrations was helping. His sister wanted him to be perfect, said that it would make him prominent, adored, useful. He couldn't keep it all inside, though. When he did, it compacted and crushed in upon itself. The pressure. It was all too much, too often.

"I feel so lost. I don't know what I'm supposed to do when I'm... scared. When I'm upset. I thought I was supposed to not let it get to me, be the one that holds it all together. If I don't, then who will? Won't someone else just do it wrong?" An exasperated sigh escaped him as his running thoughts started to cascade out of him. "It feels like every path is a push through thorns, it's never easy no matter what I do..."

Flash shook his head with another sigh, was he not breathing enough? He tried to calm down for a moment, running his free hand through his hair, fixing it even though it was hardly out of place.

"Forgive me for rambling. Life is hard for everyone, I have no right to complain."

@Bridget Collins

@Flash Holmwood

"That's not what I meant." She wasn't saying he just stop, forget about everything. She had no idea if she was any good at giving advice, but she wasn't about to tell him to do something she couldn't do. Sitting on the sidelines, pretending nothing was wrong... that seemed impossible, really. "More like... I don't know. There just has to be a way of doing it without all the frustration and disappointment." Right? Surely trying to solve this wasn't synonymous with drowning from the pressure.

She wished she could give him more concrete advice, but clearly if she had the same problem she hadn't found a good solution. While still a bit surprised by his behavior that contrasted rather sharply with how he'd acted in their previous encounters, she didn't mention it. Between the fact she didn't really know Flash all that well, especially before tonight, and that this was more of a breakdown than regular behavior, it was excusable. Besides, perhaps letting off some steam was helping, though she would've preferred punching Vladimir Athanatos wasn't a part of that. At least he'd gotten away with it.

Lost, scared, upset... it was about what was to be expected of mere children who'd lived through more danger and suffered more trauma than they were surely supposed to. Someone to hold it all together. That was what they all wanted, wasn't it? It was what she wanted. Of course, Bridget didn't really believe such a thing was possible. She'd seen the adults fail them, unsure and incapable of fixing everything. "Maybe. But it's not fair to expect yourself to hold everything together for everyone else. Whatever you do, this is bigger than you."

This wasn't working. She just shrugged as he apologized for complaining. Someone always had it worse but that didn't stop people from lamenting their problems. "Like... Well, it's a little like Quidditch, or any team sport, really. One person by themself isn't going to be able to win. Even if it's the Seeker, who could technically catch the Snitch and win alone, the chances of that happening are really low. They'll get knocked off long before they have that chance. I guess... you need a whole team. So then even if one person is off their game or something there's still a chance of success."

It occurred to her that perhaps she was starting to ramble in her analogy. It at least seemed to make sense, but what they were going through wasn't Quidditch. "Sorry if that wasn't helpful." What she was trying to say was that he had to have help, and maybe that was what they were all missing. While of course they shared information, they were still working on this alone. Alone and making no progress.

Bridget continued, seeming to almost mirror his discomfort. She pleaded that there had to be a way that was less painful, that didn't wear on them so much. Flash wanted to be cynical, to prostrate before the inherent suffering of being alive, but that thought dulled to silence after its first chime. When he thought of it as someone else, as Bridget, suffering, he knew it was wrong to be put through that. To put himself through that. He had never intended to enlist Bridget into his own world of torment. There had to be a better way.

Then, she repeated words that he had heard before, from someone else. It wasn't fair. It seemed it wasn't just a few people's opinion, but a popular one. Why was everyone so insistent that he shouldn't be burdened with such responsibility... after all, he took it on willingly, so it almost felt like an insult. Biting off more than he could chew. Too young, too out of his depth, too dangerous. He didn't want to be surrounded by people who doubted him.

Though, when she compared it to Quidditch, something seemed to click. He was certain he had accounted for that, that he has woven people into his web of connections to rely on them and use them appropriately. Why did it seem so different when he thought of it as a 'team'?

Because in teams... everyone looks out for one another. It's not one person carrying the game, supported by many. Everyone is important, and no one can triumph alone. Flash realized then that he didn't see his friends as teammates. He saw them as tools.

Bridget... would make a good teammate though. Perhaps he could loosen his iron grip sometimes, hand off the reigns and trust someone else. His tired pondering left him awkwardly speechless, if not somewhat lighter... unburdened. The silence apparently made Bridget doubt herself though, to which Flash quickly shook his head to allay her fears.

"On the contrary, I'm glad you talked to me." Flash shortly smiled, though it fell away again as he felt to patience to force it. "You're right. A team. I like that."

He sighed, drained of the adrenaline that the punch had ignited in him. Now, he was more tired than ever. Still, he didn't want to go back to Slytherin, a restful sleep in the Room of Requirement was all he could think to tolerate in his state.

"I'm not going back to my dorm, please don't tell anyone you saw where I was going." Flash's voice sounded with no stress or pressure, only sleepiness. "I'll be safe and sound."

With that, he gave a small bow. He was still in his tux, which was feeling more restrictive by the moment. "Thank you."

With that, he turned and continued down the hall. At that pointed, the sounds of the storm outside had seemed to mellow. Loud patters of stinging rain could still be heard drumming against the glass, but the thunder grew quieter, more distant.

@Flash Holmwood | Mentions @Thora Larkston

It seemed she had gotten her point across despite her worries she'd started to ramble. Exactly, a team. There was a difference between having allies and having teammates. Perhaps it was an interesting concept to be shared between Slytherins, but at this point, it seemed likely their solo approaches were the problem. They needed a unified front, a helping hand, not just a bunch of conflicting schemes that ended up ruining each other.

Flash seemed tired, which made sense; it was late, not to mention he'd been kicked. That hadn't been particularly fun to watch, but he would be fine. It could have been a lot worse.

Bridget was a little confused, but she simply nodded when he said he wouldn't be heading back to the Common Room for the night. At this time, where else would he be going? Maybe he'd already been on his way there when she'd caught up to him, which would explain why he hadn't been heading towards the stairs. She had questions, of course, namely where exactly he planned on going. She was ready to ask them, too, yet decided against it. Because she trusted him. He'd said he would be safe and she knew he was fully aware of the threats around the school, so there was no reason to believe he didn't know what he was doing.

"I won't," she assured him. "Good night, Flash." She watched his receding form for a moment before turning as well. Unlike him, she had every intention of returning to the Common Room, but first... first, she should probably go find Thora. She felt a little bad for having left her friend alone--alone, and at a Hogwarts Ball--but even if things went wrong as they so often did, Thora was competent and far from reckless. She was probably fine. After all, she couldn't be in multiple places at once, and tonight, it seemed like being here, being with Flash, had been more important.

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