Blood Stained Feathers pv ; pericles

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	Last night's race from the Astronomy tower was a blur. Pericles recalled detouring down secret passages, dodging the silhouettes of prefects, and barging into the Hospital Wing with an underclassman slung over his shoulder like a sack of peaches. He had recounted her symptoms to the nurse: vertigo, hysterics, visual and audial hallucinations, followed soon by unconsciousness. Concerns over a curse or illness were quelled when it was determined that Elena Clark was, quite simply, exhausted. The sixth-year was sent back to the Ravenclaw Tower sans his housemate, whose absence became a topic of conversation at their table that morning. At breakfast he overheard a first-year remarking that their dormmate would miss turning in an essay that day, and at the next meal then the one to follow, her head of golden hair made no appearance. A nagging sense of obligation ate its way through Peri's reserved nature come dinner. He began wondering whether something else had been wrong, and supposed there was one way to achieve a sense of closure. He was too much of a perfectionist to not possess the full story. The eagle was persistent. It wanted in from the window ledge, and it was determined to coax Elena into getting it there. Obnoxious raps of beak to glass were enough to make her stir, then sit up, then cross the room. Crouched in anticipation, it fixed the witch with a single eye as she pushed the pane ajar. A grateful "Awk" was squawked before it fluttered into the room and coasted to the center walkway. Pericles resumed human form, habitually smoothing his hair and coat while he did so, floating a dubious smile her way when he reiterated: "Little...? My wingspan recently breached six feet." He went on to answer: "I overheard a friend of yours mention you missed breakfast, and lunch. Dinner's nearly over. I wanted to see how you were feeling. The nurse said you were overtired, but I hadn't expected you to sleep through the day."
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| @Elena Clark | banner by Harlan |

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Had the raven been fully rested and in full possession of her senses, a crimson hue might have colored her cheeks at the unexpected turn of event. What had been spoken with the affection usually reserved for living creatures was actually directed towards at very human white-haired boy, who seemed to find the situation incredibly humorous. Skipping whatever surprised thought has sparked in her mind, Elena was deeply focused on that faint déjà-vu impression, a blurry fog that seemed to surround the animagus. The headache had returned, true sword of Damocles throbbing at her temples like an inner apocalypse. Unable to form any coherent train of though, she simply gazed at him with narrowing eyes, trying to remember why he looked and spoke with such familiarity. "Sleep through the...," she absentmindedly repeated, rubbing her sore eyes. Who the hell are you. "What happe-" Everything suddenly appeared with such clarity that she felt a shockwave hit her, forcing her to take a step back. She remembered receiving her grade, the dread immediately bringing her down to her knees, the terror that had immediately brought her to her knees, the shame of hiding it from her classmates, accustomed to her excellence, the lies and smiles that grew increasingly heavy, until she lashed out at a dear friend, seeking refuge in the tower, unable to understand where the mistake had been, the exhaustion that overwhelmed her, the hallucinations, and... him. As steady as a tide yet surely and slowly overwhelming her with questions, the bird-changing snowboy had witness her descent into hell and - oh no. She stepped back, colors draining from her face as she remembered the vehement screams she'd hurled at him, the words stumbling and uncontrollably gushing out, even though she tried to hold them back. Tears streaming down her cheeks, choking her, until blackness swallowed it all. No no no no no.... With each word, another step back, until her back hit the wall, yet she kept her eyes fixed on him, terrified. No no no no it can't be, it had to be a dream- There was no way she had spilled every little thought safely locked beneath the layers of her mind, no way she had ranted about it to a complete stranger. Impossible. No. Almost pleading him with her eyes to prove her wrong, she tried to utter something but her voice vanished, resulting in a strangled cough. "I ahem," she stuttered, attempting a smile. No way. Impossible. A dream. "Thanks ? For checking on me, I uh, I'd better get going, haha don't wanna miss the uh... the dinner." Rising to her feet like an automat, she walked passed him to go to the white bed awaiting her - taking a detour and putting as much distance between them as she could. Scanning for her belongings, she awkwardly patted the pillow, smiling at him from behind her shoulder. "Sunny day, isn't it ? I'd hate to hold you back, really I...." Go go go go go away go away go away go away.

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	Pericles spectated Elena's attempts at piecing together past and present. He watched with an expectant expression, brows arched and eyes half-lidded, the golden prosthetic occasionally pivoting off target while she struggled to sort through the haze. It gave way to a lucidity that she lacked the night before- and an appropriate amount of appalment. His mouth flinched into a patient, pitying half-smile as her alabaster features faded into an alarming shade of eggshell. Though no words were offered, the knowing look he pinned her under affirmed their encounter was real, she had spilled her soul, and without Obliviation he was not going to forget it. Try as she may to stammer her way to freedom, the bird was nothing if not resolute. "You haven't had a chance to talk with the nurse about your symptoms yet, have you? They were rather serious." That mechanical eye made a point to swivel over the contrasting shadows and deathly pallor of her sleep-deprived face. The painstaking effort Elena put into keeping space between them wasn't overlooked, nor was it effective. Pericles remained rooted to the spot, that oppressively observant gaze following along, with all the air of someone trying to befriend a feral kitten. His tone aimed for disarming nonchalance as he went on, "But I understand if you'd prefer to eat first. I could walk you to our table, if you'd like." His smile spread a millimeter wider when he tacked on: "Just in case."
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| @Elena Clark |

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The fine particles of dust swirling in the golden hue of the bedside lamp suddenly seemed much more captivating than the odd character currently standing behind the raven. Stubbornly staring at the fairydust twirling and ascending, she decided ignorance was the best policy, and resolutely kept her eyes on the little light show. Which might have made her look rather strange, looking at the void like it was the most fascinant thing she had ever witnessed, yet at the present what every single one of her cells cared about was getting out of the boy's scrutinizing eyes. A strategy which had not proven useful last night, and which continued to fail her, at her greatest disappointment. Taking a sharp, irritated inspiration, she glanced at him with an expression akin to exasperation. TAKE A HINT PLEASE. In the hospital wing's gentle light, she was able to discern his features in a more defined way (not that she wasn't able to last night. she was perfectly in condition to analyse him, just... preoccupied by other things.) Infuriatingly tall - the kind that forced her to tilt her head at an uncomfortable angle -, snow-like hair that seemed carefully tamed, clothes without a wrinkle. And this curious missing eye, currently replaced by a golden prosthesis, which the honey haired girl might have felt inclined to inquire about if she had not been in such dire need of the boy's disappearance. Most people might feel repulse at the sight of such a feature, yet the golden aspect of it only added to the girl exasperation, she she completely overlooked it as part of his general persona. He looked every bit like the embodiment of perfection - in such a way it seemed fake. Nose wrinkling in contempt, the usually so thoughtful girl had finally fell into the abyss of early judgments, and her sentence was irrevocable. The one so eager to look beyond appearances, the very same that seemed to have an innate gift for it, had summed up her thoughts about him in one look. To her navy eyes, he seemed like a young aristocrat, probably pureblooded, weary of the perfection of his life. Their encounter the night prior must have piqued the interest of his dull mind, now he was determined to further undermine what he had glimpsed. Hiding under the guise of a worried older brother figure. The pity she observed in his eye made her want to hiss at his face, eyes narrowing in displeasure. Seriously considering obliviate for a second - though she did not know the spell -, she glanced towards her wand before lifting her chin, staring back at him. A turmoil of conflicting emotions swirled in the blue of her gaze, yet all of it faded to exasperation as she lifted an eyebrow in reaction to his words. No, and I intend for it to stay this way. "I feel quite fine," she muttered beneath her breath, "thank you for the concern." Arson was on the verge of being committed if he did not stopped analysing her with his mechanical eye. "Can you not.." she began, gesturing at his face. "Can you stop... starring like that ?" The heavens may split and crumble upon me before I walk anywhere with you. Though such words never made it past her thoughts, her gaze carried the sentiment of it, as she politely produced a crisped smile. "I do believe I will head back to our quarters, but thank you for the offer. By all means, go ahead, I would not wish to get in the way of your dinner."

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	Neutrality dipped into dubiousness as the girl went against the grain, insisting she was fine despite hiding the scope of her symptoms from the nurse. Elena evaded Pericles with the resentment a lamb holds for a sheepdog: in active defiance of his good intentions. He looked towards the office as if expecting the healer to come and catch her, though that prosthetic remained fixed on her frowning face, its shutter-like pupil constricting. "Can you not...." "Hm?" Pear faced forward, one eye dilated and the other not, pairing with a flat expression to form something unintentionally deranged. "Can you stop... staring like that?" Apologetically, he closed and covered it until the mechanism righted, claiming "Sorry. It has a mind of its own." Pear made time for shenanigans. He wanted to stop or at least stall her decline, try as Elena may to isolate, and remained rooted under her resentful glower. "I do believe I will head back to our quarters, but thank you for the offer." Conflicting stances brought the seventh-year to a moral crossroads. Upperclassman obligation told him that letting her go would be negligent at best, while his aversion for conflict suggested she be left to learn through consequence. He was fast running out of time to stall for staff's arrival. In lieu of an actual authority figure, he would have to act like one. For a beat, Pericles' eyes hooded and lips bent in disapproval, matter-of-factedness lacing a cautionary drawl. "You haven't eaten. Should you collapse on reaching the top of Ravenclaw tower, you'll be brought back here, be it by me or another housemate...." A dash of dry humor curled the corner of his mouth as he added, goading: "...unless being found in a state of disarray is your preferred method of making new acquaintances."
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| @Elena Clark |

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Navy eyes stared at one crafted from metal and glass, flickering in its orbit as though to betray the thoughts its owner kept hidden beneath his marble facade. Her remark was less addressed to the mechanical organ and more to his general inquisitory gaze that kept raking over her person, tearing down piece by piece the protective layer of truth she hid behind. For indeed it was, a cloak of stars made of authenticity and veracity, shining brighter than the cracks it covered. No one, no one could nor would gaze past this protective, thick veil between herself and the world. Why would they ? It was beautiful, light itself woven through its fibers, and it was true. Why would anyone look for more than the truth ? She never deceived, never lied, never hid beneath what she wasn't — only selected what to bring forth, what to show under the watchful eyes of the world. Why would anyone want to peak beneath this starry persona, why would someone want to detach the sun from this painting, only to face a darkness swallowing all in its wake ? No one would, and no one will. Especially not a boy with ruffled feathers and a noisy attitude. She only tilted her head at his apology, biting the tender skin of her cheek to counter the wave of questions that washed over her. Curiosity was difficult to muffle, especially when one had to maintain a detached attitude. The raven would prefer be swallowed by the underworld right here and then rather than admit this peculiar feature was — an inner pause, trying and failing to find a better word to qualify it — cool. Terrific, even, and extremely interesting at a biological scale — how did it function, how had wizards managed to link it to the bundle of nerfs running from the ocular area, did it bend to his will, could he take it out and how, could he have additional features allowing him to have night vision, or see through walls, or- ? Hmm. Disinterest at its finest, her own eyes flickered back to the door, considering wether bolting away was a viable option. He was taller, thus slower, and adrenaline could give her wings to soar faster than his own might flap. Plus, he didn't know her name, and there was a never ending quantity of blondes her age in this school. The begining of a patronizing tirade cut through her scheming, and she looked back at him, incredulous. Who even are you to speak to me in such a way ? "I am perfectly capable of heading back to my dorm, thank you very much," she interrupted him, before noting he had mentioned her house. As her robes were neatly resting atop of her bed, it could only mean one thing — her plans of fleeting had just been thwarted. Apparently he too was a member of the silver and blue community, which meant she might even cross his path sooner than she had planned. A childish pout threatened to curve her lips as she slowly realized how literally and figuratively trapped she was. "... Unless being found in a state of disarray is your preferred method of making new acquaintances." The rest of his monologue took some time to process, as she simply stood there, mouth opened, eyebrows furrowed in an incredibly offended frown, deleting everything even remotely non-negative she might have thought about this self righteous, obnoxious bird who obviously approached this entire situation with an incredibly rude level of derision. After a few seconds, her expression saddened, the blonde now more hurt than irritated. Do you think I wanted this to happen ? She averted her gaze to stare at a broken tile, its crack ruining the smooth surface of the ivory marble. Her chest inflated, water filling up her lungs until she had to plant a crescent nail in the palm of her to prevent tears for spilling. She would not tear down in front of him — not again. If only yesterday had never happened, if only she could tear the souvenir from his memory, if only they could be strangers again. "Why do you care ?" She finally replied, volume rising barely above a whisper as her eyes find their way back to his. The tone of her question demanded answers different from the usual bouquet of half truths, meaningless 'it's my duty to aid persons in distress', 'i could not abandon you like that's, 'it's in my nature to help'. All products of humanity's moral compass, to which they obeyed without thinking. He could simply call the nurse, and pass the responsibility of her health onto other shoulders, and yet here he remained, battling with a hissing cat. Why ?

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	Instead of irritating her into compliance with his wry remark, Pericles seemed to have struck a chord. That faint grin faded, thrown off by a question which carried the cadence of an accusation. He didn't hesitate to hurl one back, and while his voice was mellow as ever, his concern and confusion were clear in equal measure. "Why don't you?" Caring was the baseline. Ignoring someone in critical condition would be at best nihilistic, at worst sociopathic. Elena's obstinance defied basic survival instincts. Whatever was stopping her was a detriment to her health as well as sanity, and Pericles didn't seek to help simply out of Good Samaritanism: to do otherwise, in his eye, defied reason. It wouldn't be very Ravenclaw-like to overlook a wounded member of the flock. Yet the upperclassman wasn't familiar enough with the younger year to be heavy-handed. He instead presented a crossroads: to stay and speak with the nurse, to fall into his shadow as he headed for the Hall, or to take the isolated route back to their Commons. Pericles had come to linger in the doorway, holding it aloft with a waiting look. Elena wouldn't be subjected to further questions should she come along. Uninvited though he was, her guardian bird was as cryptic as he was stubborn. It was more in Pear's prerogative to wordlessly offer her a variety of complex carbs, proteins, and vitamin-rich veggies from across Ravenclaw table, only to just as mutely take off once his own plate was empty.
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| @Elena Clark |

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For as long as she could remember, for as far as her memories could carry her, Elena had always cared for others. At first it had been a natural instinct, result of the compassion inherent to mankind — heart clenching upon seeing tears spilled to the ground, sympathy in the wake of pain, a force that pushed her to mend the hearts of others, tend to their wounds and hum them to sleep. She cared. Too much, too often, emotions heightened as though her own heart carried the properties of a magnifier, absorbing other's feelings and multiplying them until she collapsed under their weight. She cared. Cared about others, about their worries and the thoughts that plagued their mind, cared how weary their limbs felt and how little hope they had left, she cared to make them smile, laugh, spin in fields of lilies under the stars until finally the weight they carried lifted off their shoulders, weight she could share and help endure. "Why don't you?" Her mouth opened, and closed again. She did care, just not about her own person. Was selflessness such a bad thing? Hypocrite. She flinched, hands clenching into fists. That voice had been heard by none but her. Hypocrite, she repeated slowly, eyes glassy as she buried herself back into her own mind. For the moonchild, saviour of mankind, was a liar. The light she emitted shone hard enough to mask the darkness surrounding, hiding what she was convinced mattered little — intentions. Who cared if her heart wasn't as pure as she wished it to be, who cared if her selflessness had selfish intentions ? The results were unchanged: she helped others, she did good, she was good. No one would know her mind was plagued by rot and poison, no one would ever know she threw herself so desperately in rescuing others in the foolish hope in doing so, she would prove to herself the ill feelings stirring beneath the surface were figment of her imagination, that the anger, selfishness, jealousy, possessiveness she felt twice as strong as any heart alive would vanish if she just aided one more soul. No one would know helping others was the only way to ensure they'll remain by her side, as least as long as she could be of use. In this grand scheme, her health mattered little, if at all. And yet. And yet a stranger was standing before her, one hand continuously extended, expression unwavering. It stirred feelings she hadn't felt in such a long, long time. Nails digging into her own palms, she felt tears veiling her vision, and her shoulders slumped, head lowering. And she followed the strange ivory bird.

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