Just Past Curfew PV Cecily Quinn Finished

Infortunii.

What she really wanted to ask was whether or not her brother was there, but knowing Dorian, he was probably... like... trying to pick a fight with the Giant Squid or something. A shame, too; it was a very civil and quite shy mollusk. Most likely a million times more mature than he was, at the very least. If she asked, it'd probably lead to the discovery of either his absence or the party being thrown in his dormitory, and as much as he deserved it, she didn't want to get him in trouble. Svana would probably... disown him or something if he did much more.  

"Hospital Wing sounds great," she agreed tiredly, the effort of keeping her eyelids pulled up seemingly sapping her strength as much as the legs supporting her weight. "Uh. What's your name?" Dorian didn't need to know about this, anyway. Luckily, the Gryffindor girl didn't seem like someone who would tell five hundred people about what happened within three hours, and she didn't look familiar, either. Strands of her eyelashes fluttered into her vision sporadically, sleep trying to sweep the bruises on her pale skin under the rug of oblivion. How lucky that she had experience resisting the pulls of her mind to elsewhere. How ironic. 

Seriously, if she'd just been a bit more careful going up the stairs, this wouldn't have happened. And even if she hadn't, if they'd both been more wary going back again... ugh. Normally Cel would be less outspoken, would be sweeter and more civil and focus on giving a less rough first impression, all the little insecurities bubbling up to poke at her with their worried questions, but her wall of stacked cards had been overcast by the great storm cloud of her very much terrible mood. The hint of politeness that escaped its magnificent shadow had asked after the name of the other witch, but not deigned to prod her to introduce herself.

Once they got to the Hospital Wing—well, maybe the beds there weren't quite as nice as the beds in the Ravenclaw Tower, with constellations hung up in the sky and boughs of silk canopied over their heads, but they offered a much softer place to sleep than the freezing stones underneath their battered legs. She could take a sip of her potion there, drift into a nice sleep, enter the land of dreams where she didn't know the complexity of the real world, run away from its incredible assortment of hooks and traps. "The sooner we get there the better." With a sigh and an inhale, she sucked it up and asked, "Shall we, then?"

- egressus ad infirmariam -

When the young Gryffindor suggested making their slow, painful way two floors down the dangerous, moving staircases-- more staircases, the last thing she wanted to see at the moment-- Cecily wasn't really feeling the idea. After all, the one leading up the the Ravenclaw tower was completely stationary, and the two girls had still managed to take a dramatic tumble all the way down. There was no way that stairs that decided to buck you off the of them was going to be any better. But as she heard Cel reply to the girl in affirmation, she accepted her fate. Sleep was clouding her brain far too much to even try to argue; she could barely form coherent sentences, never mind convey the danger of shifting stairs. Besides , it would be easier to just go with whatever the, you know, actually physically capable person wanted to do. It was going to be hell getting there, but at least the two battered Ravenclaws would have help limping down the dim corridors. As long as the redhead could support the two of them-- unlike Cecily's poor attempt, which obviously went drastically wrong-- they would probably be fine-- at least, she hoped so. If nothing was broken now, it undoubtedly would be after a second tussle with gravity.

Taking a deep breath, Cecily mentally prepared herself for the journey ahead. It certainly wouldn't seem too long to the Gryffindor, but bruised as the Ravens were, it seemed to Cecily like the trek of a lifetime stood ahead of the three girls. Before the need for a long, dreamless, refreshing sleep out-competed her aversion to trying to rest on a cold, hard stone floor, she spoke. "Alright, let's go."

"I'm Cecily, by the way, and this snark here is Celynne. Um, thanks for the help. Really." Cecily said in desperate effort to salvage some hint of manners in this disastrous night, although she still didn't quite muster up enough motivation to extend a hand in greeting. Hopefully, though, she might also recover some shred of reputation. It wasn't exactly the best look, after all, showing up half-unconscious and asleep on their feet, asking a first-year Gryffindor for help walking down stairs when the poor girl clearly just wanted to go back into her common room. Nor did keeping someone awake and in the cold corridors at typically spark friendships, but making new study buddies wasn't exactly at the forefront of Cecily's mind at the moment.

ooc: this is absurdly late wow i'm so sorry