Detention Detail PV Beyond the Treeline

@Lauren Vanes

Banner by Madeline Tomlinson

As Rosie saw Lauren hesitate, she knew immediately to brace herself for what would come from the girl's mouth. She'd known her for quite some time, and therefore knew that anytime even she had to pause before speaking, it would end in some dark things revealed.

Sure enough, the girl shared that her reason for the vandalizing of the poor portraits was driven by a dark desire-no, a dark need to cause harm to whatever she saw, whatever was around her. Then, she said that it included Rosie herself-if she'd been around, she would have gotten her ears scratched out!

"Well, thank goodness I wasn't there then! I really do need my ears..." she said, trying to make light of the conversation, though she knew that there was practically no use for it. She was internally feeling a bit scared, subtly looking down at Lauren's hands to make sure that she didn't have any quills or other pointy things that could result in the loss of Rosie's hearing.

"No, don't say that! You aren't worthless, you aren't undeserving. Well, you are undeserving of being abused, but not of living! You are a good person, who has been forced into a horrible life, and that can do very bad things to people. You are not evil, you are a victim, and you deserved, and still do deserve, so much better than this." she said, giving her friend a tight hug, which she could tell that the girl probably needed.

When Lauren finished up her sharing with the dreaded statement of 'I wanna die', Rosie knew that she had to do something more than offering up a shred of comfort in hug form.

"Hey, how about we talk while we do this? We can whisper if you want to, shout if you want to, I don't care about that part. But wanting to die isn't cool, and you aren't doing that on my watch, not today. So we can chat, figure some stuff out, or just vent. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere, or planning on hurting you." she said, pulling back from the hug just enough to look her friend in the eyes, hoping that she looked very serious, because she meant every single word that she'd said.

She looked at Lauren's lips, noticing that she was biting the poor parts of her body into oblivion, blood starting to drip from them.

"No, stop that. Here, take this, but only if you want it. No biting your lips though." she said, holding out a small ball. It was crocheted, made out of yarn, stuffing, and a lot of time and effort put into making it not lumpy. Rosie had handmade it, using it as a fidget the whole year. It had gotten her through many a panic attack and boring class, and was more than happy to pass the ordinary, very muggle-ish magic to Lauren.

She kept her hand held out with it, even as Lauren began moving a branch, knowing that no matter how excited the girl claimed to be for this torturous task, no doubt through a twisted sense of needing pain to feel justice, she really just needed a break.

She thought, as she had the squishie still offered, how hard it must've been for Lauren to share all of that. Despite the two of them being friends, they weren't exactly best of friends, like the type you've known for years or would easily trust with your own life. But, the fact that she'd still told Rosie all of this showed exactly how much she needed to share it, and how much she needed someone to really listen.

She would later clear out branches, sure. But, for right now, Rosie was too busy being ready to clear out the thorns in Lauren's heart.

AMAZING BANNER BY MADELINE TOMLINSON

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Word Count: 652/200

Interacting with: @Rosalyn Willows

Lauren: #2e5a25 Others: #84774d Thoughts: italics

Date: XXth June, 2026

Dirt. Dust. Grime. It was all Erast could comprehend as the dusty, communal gloves rubbed against his skin through his attempt to untangle the gnarled branches and weeds that had coiled deathly-tight around pieces of crumbling debris. Chunky, moist mud seemed to climb up the peeling dragonhide leather, threatening to trail wet bits and smears of it up the wrist to his elbows. With a concealed grit of his teeth, he cautiously flicked the globs of dark mud to the side before it could touch his skin. To be here, in this stuffy and muddy place, on a Saturday instead of his bed, because of some audacious snitch? That guy better watch out. The brunet had more than strong words for someone like that.

Feeling Noxley bend down next to him and hearing his reluctant handling of the weeds, an irrational prickle of annoyance pinched his neck. Satisfying it had been to deny the boy 10 hours with Rosaline, now that he was officially stuck with the Ravenclaw. Frankly, Erast would rather roll in this squishy, slippery mud than to handle this awkward silence. In retrospect, it was almost cruel to force them both into this pairing. Detention was already torture enough, evidently. They’re too close, in such close proximity, as if the dirt and weeds weren’t bad enough. Ugh. "Noxley–” He turned to face the other boy, about to teasingly jab at him to give both of them some space for their sanity’s sake. Gunmetal blue eyes flicked up. Instantly, words withered on his tongue. Swirling, vermillion red swam in the Ravenclaw’s irises and devoured dark brown, equally matching the simmering frustration on his face. Instantly, Erast’s nerves plunged into ice. There was not doubt. He knew what he saw. It would be stupid not to. He lived it. Leo Noxley– A metamorphmagus. That sacred gene, in a fellow male host, flaunted like this and shoved in his face. To be forced to witness its power by a clan rival. Phantom aches in his jaw and scalp flared. He tried to shove the rising sensation down, but then Erast locked eyes with that blazing red. Something snapped.

He pressed a fingertip under his own eye, smile sharp. Tap tap. “Careful, Noxley.” His voice unsettlingly soft, spite a cruel puppeteer. “Wouldn’t want a Yan seeing that, hm?” Had the boy maintained his rational mind, he would feel guilty for inflicting this shame on a peer; Leo, who once exchanged grins and laughter of such sincerity with him before their bloodlines buried whatever budding goodwill they had in the name of a rivalry fed centuries ago by ancestors unknown to them. Yet, before the walking proof of his shame, rationality was but a flickering match in a torrential storm.

The next breath burned. Erast tore his eyes away from Leo. His heart pounded, heartbeat roaring in his ears. He had to calm down. This was all stupid. Noxley was stupid. he was stupid. His canines throbbed. He had to stop thinking about it. Snapping his eyes down, they landed on Leo’s work at their feet. At the sight, he blinked. Black, grime-streaked stones, with jagged edges that have long melted into unnatural smoothness by the harsh elements of the Grounds. Confusion dulled the pangs in his chest, lulling his heart rate into something slower, yet tense. It was almost unsettling how unnaturally these stones stood out in the wilderness of the dense forest, so neatly piled. How weird. The simmering suspicion dulled the ache in his jaw, reeling clarity back into him.

Eager to distract himself, gloved hands and the dull edge of shears reached to pry the rocks apart. As he did, his mind practically spun from his nervous curiosity. What exactly happened on these Grounds that such suspicious stones and copious amounts of debris had accumulated? Why hadn't the Groundskeeper done something about the ridiculous overgrowth situation? Why had this become their detention? Dozens of queries, all certain to go unanswered. Huffing, Erast brushed them aside, trying to focus on carefully separating the rocks from the pile with minimal contact with the filth on them. Subconsciously as he worked, his body tilted to conceal Leo’s face away from potential onlookers. His usual, mellow smile and airy cheer returned without a hitch. “Don’t slack now, Noxley. We were doing well, no?”

Interacting with @Crystal Theodora
Mentioning @Archer Duncan
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She was still fiddling with those shabby gloves when someone approached. Attention drawn by a small "hey" and a compassionate smile, Lindsey returned the courtesy, lips curling into a "Hi." The ebony-haired girl looked much younger than she did, and somehow had an air of boldness and vitality. It was then that Lindsey discovered herself to be terribly old. She had to temporarily put up with the sorrow, though, she guessed, seeing that they were in fact in a detention. "Your dress is very pretty." She said, admiring the attire that certainly matched her eyes and hair. "I'm Lindsey. 7th year Hufflepuff." She offered with a friendly smile. Hopefully, she wasn't posing as intimidating.

Lindsey chuckled when the girl referred to the whole thing as a manual labour camp. "Obviously, I don't." She shrugged. "Broom Racing indoors. On a stolen school broom, by the way." And wronged. Though somehow she kept that to herself, despite her indignation. Tilting her head as she heard the girl's story - a drink for a Pygmy Puff sounded modest, and someone probably shouldn't receive a detention unless that poor creature was unfortunately killed in that accident - she sighed, coming to the conclusion that Hogwarts staff had gone insane. "It's not your fault. Who could have thought of that?" The Headmaster, for example. Lindsey was now pretty sure that he was buzzed. "I don't doubt that." Seriously, the Headmaster must have taken quite a liking to cocktails these days, considering that delicate paper umbrella. "Do you think he's tipsy?"

"Well, let's get this over with, shall we?" She suggested, feeling more than happy that someone was interested in pairing up with her. She was prepared to pull through this in solitary, daydreaming about her iced lemonade until she could really have the coolish glass in hand, and having a partner was more than she could have expected considering her social circle (aka null) these days. Shifting the shears, she gazed at the crumbled ward from the girl's prior discovery. "Wow, that's impressive." She was decidedly more diligent than Lindsey was - people tend to be perfunctory as they evolve into adulthood, Lindsey thought, feeling slightly ashamed of being absent-minded when the group was being addressed by Headmaster Lear. Turning her attention back to the suspicious-looking ward uncovered from high grass and old branches, Lindsey squinted, squatting down to take a better look at the ward. "I wonder what happened to it."

She was going to poke it with her shears when she caught someone mentioning "fire". Alarmed, she gave up her plan, dragging herself and the shears up. Words spread fast in a crowd, and as soon as she was on the same elevation as others she was able to locate Archer Duncan, his silhouette vaguely recognisable among numerous heads in between. "Did you hear that?" She whispered to the girl. "Looks like we are getting into even bigger trouble." As a member of the Headliner, Duncan produced insightful articles and elegant layouts, and she regarded him as extraordinarily talented in newspaper work. Outside of that, she had no idea - oh yes, he was a Duellist, if she had recollected it correctly, no wonder he had a tendency toward fire-related spells - wait. Surely, she had heard that name under completely unrelated circumstances, a very dear friend of her second cousin Maximilien's, apparently, the tea spilt by her first cousins studying in Beauxbatons with him. Lindsey blinked as she recalled this piece of information. Oh, the fire sounded explainable now. She just hoped that Archer could have it in his control, or Maxi would probably mourn to the end of the world. (But still, Incendio Tria? Why not start from Incendio or Incendio Duo?)

Praying, chocolate brown eyes turned back to the mysterious ward. "What do you think of this?" Lindsey gestured at the cracked ward, the heavy gloves hanging down. "Struck by lightning, stomped by a giant, or cursed by an evil wizard?" Driven by curiosity, her tone was rather light as she suggested, finding her partner's discovery exhilarating. Drawing her wand out, she pointed at it. "Revelio."

Action: casting Revelio Charm on the ward
Stats: stamina 12 | evasion 8 | strength 8 | wisdom 16 | arcane power 13 | accuracy 16
Abilities: Statistically Relevant | Lovely Creature | Perfectionist | Evasive Maneuvers | Impartial | Poison Resistance | Animagus

Open to interactions
@Pyxis Hellebore @Costanza Jewelweed @Jessamine Hemlock

There was no reason for Kaito to assume anything was off about the gathering he attended. It was meant to be simple muggle-born and friends mixer. He'd grown up without any knowledge of the wizarding world so despite not being muggle-born, he felt very much adjacent to the term. And god was he lonely. It was a consequence of not showcasing his interest in other people. But what could he display if nothing was there. At first, he didn't mind. Some surface-level friendship with a couple of people was good enough for him in the beginning. But he'd been at this place for three years now, watching others connect deeply and there was a large part of him that felt envious over that. So when the flyer for the gathering found its way to his hands, he buttoned up his social jumper and headed out.

The overgrown section of the school's boundary line felt more like it was a place for an illicit meeting than an innocent party. And it was definitely all innocent at first. He was surprised to see other houses there as he assumed it was a Gryffindor-only thing, but he decided to take the time be truly be conversational for once. A few small talks later, he was ready to go. But he stayed, lingering at the corners and speaking with the people that approached him first. Before he knew it, curfew was an hour away and people started leaving. It was in those late hours that insidious things happened at parties, such as someone whipping out a ouija board that they'd brought from home. The vibes of the mixer shifted from warm and inviting. Energy returned beneath the surfaces of the attendants, simmering in some way that showed they were both excited and fearful.

Kaito didn't believe in the power of séances. It was supernatural bull when he was young, and it was muggle paranoia now. But that desire for connection forced him to stay, sitting in a circle with the other stragglers who remained. Someone brought the candles closer together, turning scene eerie. The owner of the ouija board placed it in the center of the group and everyone touched the planchette with two fingers. It was a small group, but he was crowded in by the two on either side of him, strangely intimate and close enough that he could hear everyone's heavy breathing.

"Is anyone there?" A simple, almost stupid question, Kaito had thought. He didn't know who asked it, and nothing happened at first. Everyone was silent save for one or two giggles among the group as if they were doing something wrong. Well, technically they were seeing where Kaito ended up the next Saturday. But it remained true that they waited for a full minute before he heard the intake of breath that signalled someone was ready to move on, ready to ask another question. The planchette twitched before they could. The group stilled, skepticism melting away slowly. Someone laughed, accusing another of purposely moving it. But Kaito's eyes drifted to the candles. The flames were perfectly upright. No wind was blowing. The sounds of the forest that had kept them company all night were completely silent now.

The planchette curved hard to the R, dragging across the board so roughly that splinters flew. Someone complained, probably the owner. But the planchette kept moving and he saw it hit the letters R U N D O N O T D I G. There was a sound up at the entrance to the castle and a lit wand led an older wizard towards them. The rest scrambled, but he was too slow to pick up on what was going on leading to him being busted as the host of the shabang.

Run. Do. Not. Dig.

"Don't." Kaito's hand shot downwards, capturing Pyxis' wrist in a vice-like grip. That night, he'd given no extra thoughts to what the ouija board said. As far as he was concerned, someone was just strongarming - strongfingering? - the planchette to rile the group up. But something in the detention session brought him back to that night, back to the boundary not even a few meters down the forest line from here. The mushrooms were like nothing he'd ever seen before, and Pyxis digging into the ground with his shears triggered something in him. He wasn't superstitious. He didn't believe that something from the other side was trying to communicate, but there was urgency in his voice. "We should... we should g-". The thought of what he was going to say next was sobering. He didn't want to sound crazy, and the rational part of him thought it knew what was fake and what wasn't. "Sorry. Sorry, I don't know what came over me there," he said, releasing Pyxis' wrist and stepping back. "Um, those things look bad. You sure you know what you're doing?"

Something else caught his attention then. Before he was lost in the memory of the séance, Costanza had greeted him and was joined by her particularly loud friend. He didn't know Jessamine much beyond classes and from talking with Pyxis, but she was proximally situated now which allowed him to hear her minor freakout about Costanza and then herself. He checked on Costanza first, worried if she had returned to the same state she was in before the ball. But the Hufflepuff had shaken whatever Jessamine saw. He reached out a hand to catch her if she fell, but she had no trouble righting herself and brushing past him to talk to Pyxis about the mushrooms. Maybe he wouldn't sound crazy if she backed him up. No. No. He didn't need her to back him up. There was nothing to back up.

Jessamine's hiss of pain drew him back, and he turned to find her scrambling to pull up her pants. He averted his eyes, unsure of what was going on. Thankfully, she spoke up about something being in the grass. "What? Did something bite you?" he asked, walking over to where she was and looked down at the grass while she inspected herself. Truthfully, he was looking for any excuse to think about something other than what the planchette had told him.

— STA 9 — EVA 5 — STR 1 — WIS 10 — ARC 5 — ACC 5 —
Part-Veela — Alluring
Action: Looking in the grass for anything that might have attacked Jessamine (gloves on!)

Only after the whole of their Headmaster's condescending monolgue – which only ratified him as someone who doesn't and wouldn't try to understand or educate students, in her mind –Sabrina realised her laser-focus on the words spoken meant their meaning completaly flew over her head. It seemed that she remained in the state of listening but not quite understanding for a moment longer, only coming to in a middle of a newcomer's greetings (@George Calder). Brows raised in evident confusion and a smidge of surprise, she noted the familiarity he approached her with. See, she would think nothing of it if he came of as merely friendly, but what send cold shivers down her spine and tightened the knot her stomach had twisted into was that he seemed to consider her his friend. Again, nothing she'd usually mind, especially after becoming a prefect, if it weren't for a fact that she had no idea who he was.

The curves and dips of his face seemed completely new to her, the tone of his voice unknown to her ears and his name not tingling at the tip of her tongue. Taking a step back, her smile turned awkward, the small wave she gave omitting the same sort of energy, 'Oh, hey.. you! Yeah, sure, why not,' she swallowed the questioning of his name that threatened to slip out, opting to shoving the dusty gloves she had previously dropped to her feet on her sweaty palms. 'Oh, good thinking,' she praised her companion's spell work –if she were completely honest, the fact they were supposed to pair up was of those that slipped her mind entirely – humming as her own mind searched for more effective ways to do their work, 'I should have a potion that could help us with that,' she started, excited to talk about her interests, the awkwardness gone and forgotten, 'it's called-' her hands reached and eyes shifted to her hip, finding nothing but thin air in the place where her satchal should've rested.

'What? Where's my bag? I swear I packed it just this morning and,' her palm smacked it's owner's forehead the moment her mistake sunk in, 'and left it slumbed next to my trunk. Fiddle sticks!' she groaned, with vigor worthy of swears, into her palm, which had dragged down her face in a show of aggravation. She shook her head, refusing to let the pout settle on her face, stretching her mouth into a wide smile, 'you reckon he'd let me go fetch it form my room?' she joked, the 'he' in her sentance clearly meant to be Professor Lear, directing the beam of her smile at George. She no longer dwelled on the subject, he fingers – without invitation or warning – reaching for his arm, attempting to wrap around his elbow (if George were to dodge or shake her off, she'd look confused but not linger on it), 'Come on, we can't hide from Mr. grumpy over there, but we sure can get a bit more space between us and him,' and with that, she'd lead them both off, closer to the woods (feel free to not follow her, George, in that case I'd just later delete her further interactions with your character). Her stride was light, her body free of the tension that came with the cold grip of fear. The young witch remained naive and unaware of the dangers that resided in the forest which she loved as much as idolised, but had yet to set a foot in.

On their way to their new, secluded spot, Sabrina's eyes followed the students scattered around them, sliding from one face to the other, not quite searching, just taking them in. She was not surprised to learn many of them possesed familiar features, some belonging to her peers, most to the active lot usually present at their school's social gatherings. Her steps halted the moment her eyes caught on a more than familiar figure: a vibrant red in a sea of dullness, a fire she's only seen flicker in the blow of wind (@Cecilia Merrick). Smile returning to her face, her hand shot up, waving at the girl she couldn't recall the name of but was glad to see. The same wave of excitement came over her when she saw her upper classman and fellow chaotic bird, Zach (@Zach Zaphiere), who she'd wave and mouth a silent 'hello' at.

Settling on an area she liked, the raven began to pile up the debris, her mind only partially occupied with the repetative task, it's majority instead shifting it's focus to the boy that accompanied her (only if he followed her, otherwise she'd work in silence), 'So, what did you do to end up here?'

Open for interactions!
action. Walking closer to the Forbidden Forest, piling up the debris there

stats. Stamina: 7 | Evasion: 5 | Strength: 7 | Wisdom: 9 | ArcPower: 6 | Accuracy: 6
abilities. Fearless

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ ☾☼☽ +:｡.｡　 ༺❀༻　｡.｡:+☾☼☽ ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

Mentions: @Mikaela Hendricks

WC: 347

Hex code: #0050b4

OOC note: Following this post. All Godmodding was agreed upon in owls.

sta • 5 | eva • 6 | str • 4 | wis • 7 | arc • 7 | acc • 6

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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Skylar's eyes widen as she watches her Mika starts hyperventilating. She has so many questions swirling within her head, and instead of them being answered, she now has more. "I-It all has an explanation. I'm... Not sure when it started, but I know something is off with me. I have done weird, crazy thing without even realizing, and-" Skylar looks around as she tries to search for anything that can calm down her friend. Mika was on the verge of tears, and she was not showing signs of getting better. The Gryffindor can care less about whoever "the Wraith" was, or even the task she needs to do now. What she needs to do is stop Mika from having a panic attack. "I'm sorry. For- For whatever I've done that night. And the nights before. I have no idea w-who I am now. A-And it terrifies me, and..." Oh no no no. Her friend cannot be having a break down here in the public. The only ones around them are other students who got detention and Headmaster Lear, who does not seem to eager to get off that chair of his. "Sky, say s-s-some... S...ome...thing. P-P-Please." Mika stutters. Skylar struggles to decipher the broken sentence, and her panic is rising along with her friend's. "Okay, Mika? Can you hear me? Okay, I need you to breathe okay? Come on, just in and out." Skylar says in an attempt to calm her friend. She needs to bring Mika somewhere quiet, somewhere she could calm down. "Alright, how about this: we just go to the edge of the forest. Not into the Forbidden Forest, but far enough from the detention group. Come on, let's get you to some place quiet, hm?" Tugging on her best friend's arm, Skylar attempts to lead them away from the group. It is not like she was completely ditching, she is merely trying to save Mika from a panic attack. Think of it like a temporary break. A reasonable part of her brain tells her to just ask Headmaster Lear, but unfortunately she does not have the luxury of time.

x

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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Action: Sneaking away from the group with @Mikaela Hendricks

@Kaito Foxglove @Costanza Jewelweed @Jessamine Hemlock

A Saturday in June

Twice Pyxis found himself interrupted before he could put his battle stance to use. His gloved hands were wrapped tightly around the base of the mushroom's stalk, fingers digging slightly into the dirt to grip what was underground too. He dug his heels into the ground, remembering what he'd done back then to successfully rip one of them up from the earth. The first person to hinder him was Kaito. Pyxis hadn't realized how close the lad had gotten to him, and he jumped when Kaito's hand connected with his wrist.

"Wha—" He was cut off by Kaito's urgent warning. "Don't what? Uproot this thing?" he asked for clarification, but Kaito was already backing off, releasing his wrist and apologizing for being so forward. "Uh, yeah. Don't worry. I've dealt with them before. I got this," he said, sending a strained smile Kaito's way. The Gryffindor didn't argue and it seemed like the reassurance was enough for him. Pyxis watched as he moved over to Costanza and Jessamine's side of their workspace. The snake looked away quickly, not picking up on what was happening there, and not wanting to either. He'd rather get through this day without fielding off his own awkwardness and Costanza's famous death stares.

So the young lad resumed his stance, gripping the mushroom stalk and wiggling his butt in preparation to pull. Another voice stopped him. Oh for f— It was Costanza. Pyxis was suddenly very interested in the red pustules on the mushroom's cap. Looking at it was making him sick, but he would rather that than confronting the subject of his numerous thoughts. But she was speaking to him, stooping down next to him, too close to ignore.

"Ah, uhm... Well, actually it's fine." He removed his hands from the mushroom again and placed them on his knees, reluctantly turning to look at Costanza. "It's fine, I swear. Remember when the grounds smelled like... like absolute death back in first year. Like, just when we had started." He wasn't so sure if Costanza was even going outside around that time. She seemed pretty closed off back then. "It was because these mushroom weed things were popping up all over. The magical creatures professor at the time... I think it was Professor Blumenthal... She posted for help to get rid of them. She wanted us to help, Jewelweed. And professors don't put students in danger."

He said the last sentence with conviction. For all the rumors Pyxis had heard about danger at Hogwarts, he found that professors always protected students and that was his main motivation for ignoring the warnings that both of his friends were providing. Of course, he didn't mention the dead creature he'd pulled up, tangled tightly in the roots of the disgusting myconid. There was no reason to worry Costanza who was already anxious.

"Do you know what's going on with Jessie over there?" he asked, peering past Costanza to his other friend who was rolling up her pants and Kaito who was peering into the grass next to her. "Eh, let me get rid of these mushrooms first." And so, finally, Pyxis got into the stance once more, digging his gloved fingers deeper into the dirt to catch any bits of root that he could. And he pulled.

Action: Pulling the largest of the mushrooms out of the ground
STA: 10 | EVA: 7 | STR: 3 | WIS: 12 | ARC: 10 | ACC: 9
Perfectionist | Stat Relevant | Spell Spread