It begins again... Finished

@Lamik Fillestar | mention@Kyle Derook | @Marla Quinlan

The Abandoned Toilets were normally ideal for solitude.

Like any other strange child in the school, the half-blood had spent his fair share of time wandering the odd ruins of a bathroom. He had pressed his pale hands to the chipped walls, ran his fingers over shattered glass mirrors, and looked over into run-down toilet bowls. Before, his chief fascination with the place was its ghosts of the past. He had gone searching out Myrtle and Peeves, looking for trouble in the most deadly of places, straining his ears for a moan or laugh.

But this time, he had fled to the Toilets to be alone. He wanted the silence that was stolen from the dormitory by his roommates' snoring, and the silence that seemed so rare in a school where everyone seemed to shout their thoughts to the rooftops.

He ascended the steps to the room. But he was disheartened to find that silence would not greet him. Instead, there was a crack like a bolt of lightning, and a dismayed yell. Isaac's heart pounded in his chest.

Another psycho in the school.

Or, he tried to convince himself, just a bloke with awful anger issues, taking it out on a poor person who was there at the wrong time.

The boy glanced at the stairs with temptation. The Abandoned Toilets clearly would offer no comfort tonight, and it was smart to get out of a mess while he still could. But another part of him made his jaw set and his eyes grow hard.

A student could have been in trouble.

What would he have been, had the professor and his friends abandoned him in the Forbidden Forest? He'd be dead, and no better than a pile of dust. No, he wouldn't cower from this. If the students needed help, then he'd try to help as best as he could.

Gathering up his courage, Isaac pulled out his wand from his uniform pocket, in case he needed to attack. Swiftly, he strode closer to the chamber, hearing words as he neared. Two people, a boy and a girl, spoke in softer tones that grew louder as time passed. The last voice was chilling. As time passed, it was less of a rasp and more of a growl, escaping from whoever they were confronting.

Isaac walked into the room to behold a strange sight. There was Marla, that freckled Gryffindor from the train-ride and Quidditch-game, facing off with a boy who had a feral light in his eye. His knuckles were stained with blood, and Isaac followed the trail to see blood dripping from Marla's face, blemishing her pale skin. Her eyes swam with tears, and she seemed heartbroken.

Like a referee, the third boy, blonde and lithe, was trying to gain control over the match, talking about the infirmary. But it didn't do much good. They were too absorbed in their verbal sparring.

He walked over to the third boy, carefully edging around the other two, feeling more and more like a clueless interloper every second. His wand was still carefully held in his fingers.

"What in Merlin's beard is going on here?"

mention @Kyle Derook | @Marla Quinlan | @Lamik Fillestar | @Meenauh Silmataurea

Maybe it was stupid to get involved in this whole mess in the first place.

He wanted to be helpful. Emphasis on the help part of that word. But by holding out his wand for comfort and defense, the other boy had taken it as an invitation to launch an attack. And worse yet, some other girl had begun to get involved, making things even worse.

"I'm very sorry to interrupt you guys, but we had an agreement, which this young man decided to ignore, so I need to accompany him to another place, where he is very expected to be."

He almost felt like face-palming at the fellow Gryffindor's words. Did she even know this kid? What if he was unstable or something? And if he was in an Abandoned Bathroom, why would he accompany this girl somewhere else? He clearly cared for Marla more than anyone else in the room. Isaac could tell in an instant that she was pulling this stuff out of nowhere.

And then, as if she was trying to cause a fight, she waved her wand in front of the angry boy's face.

She and Isaac were probably the two biggest idiots in this situation. Though, he admitted to himself that her idea was a little dumber.

”Periculum!”

He recognized the red sparks from an earlier lesson, summoned from the Periculum spell. The glowing ember-colored signal flared suddenly in the air, crashing straight into the ceiling and bouncing off of it. He knew that the sparks didn't do much damage, but plaster crumbled from the ceiling nonetheless, in a stream of rocks.

"Look out!"

There was likely a reason why this Bathroom was an Abandoned Bathroom.

The feral-looking boy growled beneath his breath, knuckles still shining red with blood. His eyes even appeared almost red in the unnatural light cast from the spell. The kid stared at him with frustration for a few moments before turning away to shove by him.

He wasn't expecting that.

Isaac's reflexes were clumsy, and he could feel the other boy's elbow jab into his stomach as he walked by, tension rippling in the stranger's shoulders. The girl had already been saved by the sickly blonde kid, leaving him as the unfortunate one to get shoved away.

Twisting over, he toppled down, taken aback by the strength in which the boy pushed past. When he slammed against the floor, the breath was knocked out of him and bones were jolted by the impact. He could feel the skin being lightly scraped off of his burns, and sucked in a heavy breath, feeling a terrible sting of pain.

Dammit..
That was so...pathetic.

He thought bitterly, pulling himself back to his feet. The boy was already walking away from the spot, darkness trailing after him. He didn't use a spell on the other kid, only because he figured that then, everything would be terrible. But they couldn't let him escape into the school. What happened if he attacked the other students?

If crying and bleeding in front of two people wasn't completely mortifying enough, guess what? It got worse. Two more people came in, and great. She knew both. One was a boy that she had crossed paths with two times prior, they had ridden the train together to Hogwarts and met again during the quidditch game. The second person was a pretty, tall girl with slick brown hair that she had met in the very beginning of the year at the owlery. Marla was kind of surprised that she recognized her honestly... It had been so long since they had last seen each other. In any normal circumstances, Marla would have been quite glad to have encountered the two, but the last thing that she needed was more people seeing her with tears swimming in her eyes and blood splattered on her face. The first one who walked in was Isaac, who asked exactly,"What in Merlin's beard is going on here?" to which Marla had no answer. How do you explain a tall, feral-seeming boy punching a tiny girl in the face? Exactly. You couldn't. So she just kept silent, biting her lip to hold back the tears that desperately wanted to spill down her face.

But when Meenauh came in... Not to be rude, she liked the girl, but... It made things a whole lot worse. It seemed like she was trying to give Kyle an escape to no avail, so he took things into his own hands.
"Take care of Marla, and stay away from me." Surprisingly, that was the thing that made the redhead's blood boil. Take care of her? He literally just punched her in the face! And she could take care of herself just fine, thanks! Marla wasn't some damsel in distress... And now she felt like everyone thought that, which was equally embarrassing and infuriating.
"I don't need anyone to take care of me! Don't slug me in the damn face next time!" She screamed at him, her fists clenched so tight that all the color was drained from both. Her eyes looked almost crimson, and her teeth were gritting together so aggressively she nearly chipped a tooth. Marla opened her mouth to yell something else, something that she'd probably regret, but before she could, Kyle had yelled an incantation for a spell that she couldn't recognize, until... Red sparks shot throughout the room! Lamik thankfully pulled her down to the ground, an angel, that one was. She curled up on the floor and covered her eyes, because god forbid one of those got stuck in there. The girl'd be blind for at least a week. But Isaac wasn't so lucky. He fell to the floor. Hard. It seemed like all the wind was knocked out of him, even.

Once the spell had died down, Marla wiped off the blood that was now covering a large portion of her face, and approached Isaac, offering him a hand to get up. She then shoved her hand in her pocket quickly as she saw that the boy was getting up on his own, and stepped to the side.
"That fall was brutal. You alright?" She shook her head, still completely livid after what Kyle had done to her, and now Isaac. "He's mad, that one," she said to the remaining three in the room,"We had detention together in here a few months ago, and now? Deranged or summin'. An arse hole too.." She murmured the last part to herself, and scoffed quietly.

@Marla Quinlan | @Lamik Fillestar | mention@Meenauh Silmataurea

sorry guys, wifi was down yesterday.

"That fall was brutal. You alright?" She shook her head, still completely livid after what Kyle had done to her, and now Isaac. "He's mad, that one," she said to the remaining three in the room, "We had detention together in here a few months ago, and now? Deranged or summin'. An arse hole too.." She murmured the last part to herself, and scoffed quietly.

"I'm fine," Isaac insisted, steadying his breathing and glancing towards the door that the aggressive boy had stormed out of. "Seen worse." he added with a shrug. Marla's face was still flushed crimson, and her eyes had a livid spark. He figured that it would be better to downplay it, just so that she didn't snap and start screaming again.

At Marla's comment that she and him had weathered through a detention together, he wondered what on earth they had even gotten detention for in the first place. From his first impression of Marla, he already knew she was stormy with more than a bit of a temper, but he never expected her to be the type to fall in with a boy like that. Perhaps it was over harmless mischief, but then again, he no longer had the same faith in the students he was surrounded by. If this Deathmote bloke could wander around, slicing students up, then what was stopping another unhinged student from doing the same?

It was then that the blonde kid chose to roll himself onto his feet, blinking the lights from his eyes and focusing on the group. Isaac was surprised by the heavy sarcasm laden in his voice when he spoke, expecting something altogether more soft in his tone. The kid did look quite sickly at first. He brushed a few stray locks of hair from his eyes as he began,

"You know... as much as I dislike telling people that the thought isn't what counts- since believe me I've had quite a bit of dumb ideas in the past- what the two of you just did was absolutely insane."

"It wasn't that stupid," the Gryffindor muttered defensively before tucking his wand in his pocket. "At least I didn't talk to him, or maybe, jab my wand right at him." His last statement was pointed, and he couldn't help but feel a little exasperated at the brunette girl again.

Isaac had a reason. He was just holding his wand for safety.

But then again, he bitterly realized that no one else would understand why he needed to. It circled back to why he wanted to be alone in the first place, to avoid people and avoid questions. Nothing he did seemed rational to anyone anymore. Not even to himself. He hated it.

Lost on this sour train of thought, it was then he felt a stinging sensation searing his right arm. The boy pulled his hand away from it, becoming conscious of the fact that he was scratching his burns again. The reddened patch of skin was dented, and in certain places covered in disgusting congealed blood. At this rate, he'd never heal.

Spite spilled into his next words, and his grey eyes flashed. "Not like you were doing any better, Mr. Lets-Go-To-The-Hospital-Wing. No one even cares about what you say. If he really wanted to hurt us, I bet you'd be dead in a second."

A part of him wanted a fight, or an excuse for one. The helplessness from before when he was pushed was sharpening into misplaced anger. He was sick of being afraid, or shoved aside like he meant nothing.