Second Year Graduation Party PV2nd Year+Profs C

It was the dang Veela blood--

Well, that just made her statement true. It did not change the purpose of this meeting, an excuse to talk.

“You remind me of Sebastian.”  

Sebastian who? Leeds? She controlled her face and her eyes, but there was an internal frown and she felt a bit nauseated. They were not friends. Rivals might have been a strong description of their former relationship, that is whatever their label was before he like so many others had faded into obscurity. "Leeds?" She ultimately clarified. "I am probably the better dancer," she claimed. 

“He was always observing, calculating too.”

They were similar people in more ways than either would wish to admit, it was their choices that defined them rather than their nature. "He is also missing, much like the rest..."  That truth being more relevant than their bitter rivalries. That would segue into her actual purpose, it was not to romance the part Veela but rather to see if there was anyone capable of seeing the pattern. If anyone could glean some insight on what might prove to be a dire circumstance. 

“Strange indeed. I don’t suppose you know something about it?”

At least someone was either being honest or was not being utterly oblivious to the obvious efforts of some malevolent or at the very least disastrously chaotic force. Hugh Lowe shut her down, entirely ignored her when she went to him. She glanced around the room, come to think of it -- where was the big guy? Erin shook her head, "wish I knew. Been getting a brick wall whenever I bring it up."

Erin could hear movement nearby, she would lead the duo in a half turn so she could view the source of the disturbance. It was some goof having an upright seizure on the dance-floor. She let a breath of air escape through her nose. "I think the Prefects know something," the Slytherin added. "Too many coincidences... strange happenstances for even the densest of people to overlook." She was referring to not only Hugh but even the rumors surrounding Erin herself. It was coincidental perhaps, but it was still a pattern. Erin was drawn to conflict, acts of heated passion like a moth was to a flame. She would clench her jaw.

"I know a lot of the people that disappeared... are not irrelevant," she admitted. To her their significance or rather their lack of insignificance was in and of itself significant. "That some of the people that left... came back, have been coming back these past few weeks. But they seem wrong." She was referring to Howard White's transformation. Anatole Evan's perpetual weirdness. Marcus DeWynter's recent return as an alleged 'Lord.' "And people seem to just disappear one day without a trace. People in positions of authority, quietly dismissed from their roles and their beds vacant. Even Reid Kovacs," she gestured towards the Hufflepussy himself "was Head Boy last year as a first year" an unheard of achievement "then he just wasn't... and then... I just stop seeing his face in class, the halls, anywhere really. He returned a few days, maybe weeks ago as if nothing ever even happened." Erin probably sounded as crazy as the rumors about her suggested. She was insane, but she was also not entirely wrong. 

Then there was an assault. An assault with an ass. The ass of a dork. Erin stopped in her tracks as his butt bounced off hers. A second bounce? "Fucking hell," Erin complained as her stiletto clicked and scraped against the floor as she regained her balance, the second 'bump' landing true to form. "Damn weirdo," she snapped. She remembered the bug-eyed little booger, he was the screwball in the abandoned toilets begging something to not eat him before she plunged his head into the toilet. 

She would look over at Dymphna, "this will only take a few seconds..." True to form, instinct took over.

"I-I... uh, I-... the-, it-, sorr-, you-, no...-"

"You did not get enough last time did you," she muttered clearly enough that anyone nearby could hear her. She kicked off her heels, they were more trouble than they were worth. She would reach for Oliver's waistband and attempt to dig her fingers beneath. If there were underpants there, she would attempt to give them a mighty tug. If not, she would be disgusted -- her base state.

Oliver watched in horror but couldn't even move. He was stiff, even his hands were stuck in the air. Erin would grab the waistband of the sweatiest cotton fabric she'd have ever have touched. This pair was literally a sponge, running down Erin's wrist when she angled the underwear upwards.
Oliver squealed like a pig, his feet running on the spot from the pain, gaining serious skin stretch burning as the tight fabric was painfully wedgied upwards, giving Oliver the most painful experience of his entire life. His eyes were immediately running with tears. For some really odd reason, he was staring at Dymphna for nearly the entirety of the wedgie, as brief as it was.

Oliver would get a hold over the pain after several inches of pulling and would roar a squeaky roar. He looked up at the taller and stronger Erin, being a few inches shorter than her. His sweaty, pudgy palms raised and swung to deliver weak slaps against her face. He was so slow in combat that to others, it would appear as though he was wiping his hands on her face. Which he basically was. He smacked and pushed on her face, his tear eyes leaning down with furrowed eyes, cheeks now red with anger.

INTERACTING WITH: Erin, Oliver, and Dymphna(?)

[font="Monotype Corsiva"]

Interactions -> @Alexx Séverin, @Caradoc Browne, @Rosie Parker, @Hjørdis Jensen, and @Reid Kovacs
Open for Interactions

'Quinn ye damned boyo...what have ye gotten yer self into?' He cursed to himself mentally as he was posted up with the professor. Various friends he hadn't seen in ages, close friends, and even a head of house were now betting and/or rooting for him to kick Professor Browne's Irish butt. He'd played it up too much, and this...excited the ever love out of him. It really fired him up so he took all of their compliments to heart especially since a certain badger was now questioning his choices. "Just watch me Rosie I'll win this no problem!" Cocky words from a rarely cocky but strange Hufflepuff none the less.

He couldn't afford to lose now. The young Irish boyo had too much at stake to lose and too much to prove. If they think him week then he should prove them all wrong in the best way possible. "Oh ye of little faith. Just watch me kick his butt!" He exclaimed loud enough for all to hear. Specifically everyone who had just been in his close proximity. This was intentional, and after feeling the hand on his shoulder and Alexx's encouragement which knowing her. He had a sinking feeling she might not have much faith him, he was still rather scrawny afterall.

After Alexx said her piece, Quinn took initiative and with every ounce of strength he could muster. He put his entire being into trying to move Professor Browne's arm away from him. "Begin!" He grinned and kept up his smirk as he exerted all the strength he had and would continue to do so for as long as his body and will would allow.

It was time to test just how good Quinn was. His eyes were sharp and unwavering. Carrying a raging fire behind them. Was it anger, resolve, a mix of the two, or something else entirely? Whatever it was his spirit raged proudly and would not be quieted for any reason as he gave his 100% effort. "Is beag creideamh atá agat agus tabharfar luach saothair duit." He said a little quieter slipping back into his mother tongue on accident. It was more said for himself as reassurance than anything else really. Sounded cool as all though.

Quinn's outfit

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The boy had shown his initiative. not at all surprising to the Head of Hufflepuff. Mr. Healy had been shouting for a while now. Perhaps the kid was nervous. Having his friends come to watch with doubtful expressions must've been raising the pressure for sure. But the boy kept on going. Much like an animal would as it smelled blood. The kid certainly lacked control. Something that could be helped in the future. Perhaps he had to go and teach the young badger some better or more subtler ways of showing his strength. But that would be for later. When the silly boy had calmed down a bit instead of getting that already red head of his in more shameful situations.

The kid was big for his age, Caradoc gave him that much. Strong too. The professor had not anticipated any level near what he was experiencing at that moment. Nevertheless, his own arm would not budge. Caradoc might have been a slow man, terrible at running or any sorts of fancy acrobatics. But the man knew how to stand his ground. Dig his hole in the earth and protect it at all costs. The badger way.

Now there was a decision to make. Let the boy enjoy a little fame and maybe earn some extra appreciation with one of the girls standing amongst the audience. Or actually teach the little cub how to be polite. As pretty as that little heart of Mr. Healy would be. That mouth had not been washed for some time.

Caradoc would be wiggling his nose again, this time for all to see. It's what he did when he was thinking. Which might have given a keen eye the impression that the older Irishman was not even trying to win at this point. Sure he had to focus on maintaining his strenght. Anticipate when Quinn was about to try and push further and just come down hard as a counter. It would exhaust the child at some point. So the window was getting smaller.

Then there was the matter of Caradoc's own pride. Was he about to let this cub just beat him? Why would he allow it? Lads like him had to learn and grow stronger than those that threw them down. As Irish that this would have been in tradition. It was not the badger way. He could not help but sneak a quick glance over at the other professor in the room. What would she think? Guess he was about to find out. He'd slightly loosen his grip and allow the boy an opening to slam the professor's arm down to the table.

A squeal would cut right through Caradoc's hearing. The sheer surprise distracting the Head of House. If Quinn would have taken his attack of opportunity, it would have been a clean shot without any resistance. His head would snap towards the sound. A girl and boy seemed to have taken it a bit further than a friendly arm wrestle. In almost one move, the Irishman would release his hand from Healy's grasp and make a beeline for the occuring incident. Leaving behind the gathering around both irishmen. Pushing past a couple of the surrounding figures, he'd make his way to the dancefloor.

"What is the meaning of this?" His eyes would fall on Erin and Oliver. Then finally on Reid and Dymphna

Mentions: Dymphna Teague, Reid Kovacs, Caradoc Browne
Interactions: Reid Kovacs

@Erin Ryan @Reid Kovacs @Rosie Parker @Caradoc Browne
mentioned Oliver and Hjørdis

The blonde didn’t notice Erin’s discomfort at being compared to her… crush? For a while, Dymphna found herself wanting to chat with him more, get to know how he ticked then she moped about for a while when he didn’t seem to return to school. Where was he? It wasn’t something that bothered her much until now. She assumed he was attending some fancy private Pureblood school, if such a thing existed.

She allowed herself to smile at the comment, almost forgetting that she and Erin weren’t friends. ”Perhaps. I did dance with him once too, you know? He was decent.” Probably something to do with his upbringing. Strict, various interests and talents. Even in the more ‘feminine’ things like knitting. It made him endearing, looking back on it.

Dymphna scoffed at the thought that the Prefects would know anything and when the conversation turned to Reid, an odd expression came over her face. “He’s just… been going through a lot.” There was something going on that he wouldn’t tell her and she was trying not to be bitter about it, instead to continue on as though nothing happened in the Owlery.

Being curious didn’t outweigh being a good friend. Besides, she was certain it didn’t have anything to do with whatever was happening with their fellow students. She knew Reid or at least, she thought she knew him enough to judge his character. He wasn’t a bad guy. Sure, he was impulsive at times and didn’t seem to want to open up but that wouldn’t change how she felt about him. A really, really good friend.

Just as she was about to point out how strange it was for the Headmaster to wear armour, a Ravenclaw boy that was vaguely familiar bumped into them. She managed to stay upright, gripping Erin a little too tight. The poor boy was stuttering, something she didn’t fault him for since it was Erin afterall. A notorious bully but as Dymphna was finding out, a decent conversationalist.

At her actions however, the blonde’s gaze turned icy. Her wand was drawn but before anything could be said, Reid was there. Oh no, this could only lead to trouble for him. Whatever was going on, whatever it was that he wasn’t telling her, she hoped that the incident wouldn’t cause him any more suffering. Would they expel him for sticking up for another? Idiotic, she thought as she remembered that countless others had been in even more trouble and nothing was done about it.

“Reid,” she began, trying to find the words that would calm him. Her wand was clenched tightly in her fist, a spell begging to be cast. Then she noticed Rosie for the first time. Shame went through her. A sweetheart, that’s what Rosie was and she had to witness this mess. A mess that she should have taken care of when it began, before anyone else had gotten involved. She turned back to Erin with a scowl then an adult voice spoke.

Professor Browne! Did that mean that her cousin witnessed everything? Dymphna looked to the floor, avoiding her fellow Ravenclaws face, the one who was still being held onto by Erin. She wished she at least knew his name. “Ollamh,” she started, sounding guilty but what had she to do with it? Other than dance with someone she and her friends considered a nuisance.

What now? Defend her friends, of course! “They didn’t have anything to do with it,” she gestured towards Rosie and Reid. Erin was caught red handed but she hoped the Professor wouldn’t blame her too, as she seemed to be getting along with the Slytherin. Still, she couldn’t help but to feel (and perhaps look) guilty as though she’d betrayed her friends trust by dancing with her in the first place.

Translation: Ollamh — Professor

MENTIONS: REID KOVACS, CARADOC BROWN, ERIN RYAN, OLIVER HART, DYMPHNA TEAGUE, ROSIE PARKER
INTERACTIONS: QUINN HEALY, sorta but not really? REID KOVACS
OPEN TO INTERACTIONS

And then Kovacs arrived.

This was actually Alexx's favorite part of the night, because if anyone knew her, they would know that Alexx would set a whole lot aside for Reid. However, this also opened an opportunity to pick fun at his outfit or whatever the fuck she needed to do.

However, her planned interaction was disrupted by a scene going on in the background that she absolutely did not care to get involved in. Was she a Prefect? Yes. Was she a good Prefect? Only on command. You see, when trouble calls, Alexx might pretend that she cares- if you're lucky. Besides, there were Professors around. No need to do their job for them.

When the match finished, and by finished she meant the random dude releasing his hand from Quinn's, Alexx announced, "And the winner is... Quinn?" Her eyebrows cinched. She just knew when Erin Ryan showed up that there would be trouble. Her eyes turned to her badger pal. "You think we should investigate?"

Without awaiting a response, Alexx followed behind the man, hoping that her friend would follow. That was when she finally saw Reid. She hadn't been able to see him before, as she was busy playing referee for what seemed like a stupid match. "Kovacs?" She whispered, though probably not loud enough for him to hear her. There was a few people there who could see what was happening- it was likely that the commotion would drown her out. She was curious for sure.

Alexx then made herself settled in the crowd. She would wait for someone to fill her in later, once this was done. Perhaps Rosie, who seemed the easiest to talk to.

It seemed easier to ask Rosie, who wasn't about to receive the third degree from potential Taco Bell guy. She might have thought of asking Dymphna, but she seemed preoccupied. Then there was a face that she wasn't acquainted with, who, of course, she would not be bothered to speak to, even if given the chance. And then, lastly, Erin Ryan. Alexx only knew of her, and had briefly seen her on perhaps only one other occasion. However, Prefect gossip traveled fast, and word that Erin Ryan was a complete psychopath did not make its way past the ears of the serpent girl.

This would make for a good story, however. If she took anything out of tonight, it could always be a juicy gossip article in the Headliner. What did Erin Ryan do this time? Read more to find out. Alexx probably wasn't the best writer on the team, nor was she the most impressive face to appear in the Headliner office. Her cubicle spoke investigator, but her articles read nosy asshole. So, in the end, she could totally put out something half-assed about this if there really was nothing more to do.

Alexx's eyes fixed on Reid once more. Casual shoes with nice looking clothes. How typically of the boy. She almost wanted to chuckle to herself, but she quickly decided that now might not be the best time to do so. Instead, she awaited the response of those in question, seeing if that would fill her in on the gossip. And, of course, she wanted to see Quinn's take on the interruption. Quinn seemed to have a mind for justice.

Pulling on her collar a little bit, she suddenly felt uncomfortable in her dress. At what time would someone come and rescue her? Perhaps, once all was said and done, she could convince a friend or two do ditch this place with her and go hang out in the abandoned toilets or something like that. Unless, of course, there was going to be more juicy events to occur. Then she might consider sticking it out, no matter how itchy her dress got.

@Oliver Hart [bullying], @Dymphna Teague [having 'date' ruined], @Caradoc Brown [ignoring], @Reid Kovacs [punching, potentially rolling on ground with in an unpleasant way], @Quinn Healy [mentioned]

Oliver had messed up her dance with Dymphna, nearly knocking her over as a result. Oliver was already more than aware of Erin's temper, an experience that he had suffered before. The blonde Ravenclaw braced herself against falling by seizing onto her. The turd was dead...

She would thrust her hand down Oliver's pants, immediately regretting it the moment her hand gripped something exceptionally soggy. Her stomach did a flip and she could taste bile in the back of her mouth, she gagged a little bit as she pulled hard. The underpants potentially old, the elastic exhausted or her power mighty, Oliver's underpants made their dance-floor debut. 

The freak was staring at Dymphna this whole time. "Stop looking at her you weirdo!" Erin snapped.

A yelp of pain from the nuisance that needed to learn his place, she started to relinquish her regrettable grip on Oliver's boxers/tighty-whities and started to wipe her now filthy hands on the skirt of her dress. How is it that she ended up feeling defiled in this exchange! 

She did not expect the goober to fight back. Weaklings like him run. They always run. Maybe this time he would have the damned sense to keep his distance. This time he fought back, whatever foolish notion that came over him that gave him the erroneous belief that he could take her was going to end here and now. She did not evade the wet slap to her face. The hell! How was this kid so... moist! It was like pummeling a mackerel. 

"You fucking never learn!" Erin announced through gritted teeth as she clenched her small, yet powerful hand into a fist. She was going to break this kid in front of the entire second year and nobody was going to stop her.

Well, nobody except Reid Kovacs, former Head Boy and professional inconvenience. She drew back her right just as Reid [taking "ready to grab Erin by the wrist" to mean that if I continued on this path of bully-ism you would intercede in this manner] grabbed her left wrist. One could claim that he pulled her a bit as he grabbed her wrist and tried to save the witless boy, perhaps he did but even if he had not instinct would dictate her blow would land on the last man (well, boy) to touch her. That was Reid. Yes, Erin would try to sucker-punch Reid in the face with the sum of her not insignificant strength. Erin was stronger than most boys her age, in fact the only second year likely stronger than her was the part-giant  Quinn Healy in terms of physical prowess at this moment.

If the punch landed or if it missed, Erin would respond the same. "Fuck--" she muttered.

Oliver was still trying, weakly to combat Erin. Her face mushed as his pudgy, weird little hands pushed at her face. She would try to break free of Reid's grip, twisting her arm suddenly and quickly if he did not release his hold on his own. I will take you both on! Her less than rational mind declared. Even if Oliver posed a threat equivalent to an irate newborn Reid was likely closer to a peer in capacity, Oliver's annoyance would give him an edge that was only evened out by the fact that Erin plays dirty. Bad guys don't follow rules. She did not care for fair-fights, she liked to win but she was also too prideful to back down even if she was wrecked in the process. It was her fatal flaw. 

She would try to knee Oliver in the groin. 

Professor Caradoc Brown would be summoned by the commotion and the chaos that seemed to orbit around the Slytherin. Erin would not even notice, nor would she care. She would have to be peeled off of Oliver and or Reid (if they too were in the midst of a physical altercation). Unlike every other girl here, she would want on top of Kovacs for a completely different reason.