26 May 2025, 23:31
Return Of The Prodigal Son.
27 April, 2025
Roughly 6 p.m
The wind caressed his cheek with a cool, nurturing hand, like a mother ushering her child from under the sun's heat. The Hufflepuff took slow, lingering steps, an uneasy nervousness settled rigidly in his chest, a stone of discomfort placed directly beneath his sternum. Pinching at the thick leather hem of a freshly purchased jacket with his forefinger and thumb, the young man gently rolled the fabric between his fingers—the only beacon of unrest peaking through the languid veneer of confidence. For a moment, Jack squeezed his eyes tightly shut, concentrating intently on the rhythmic sound of his boots striking against the smooth surface of the worked stone trestle. The new clothes he wore were like new skin, a chance to start again without the stains of the past holding him back.
The deep rings that had settled beneath Jack's eyes had gradually begun to fade away over the months, a relief he could finally feel. The long sleepless nights of digging had been replaced with nightmares, yet anything was better than playing passenger princess in your body. The fatigue lifted, and now the glint of mischief had sparked back to life in his dark eyes.
Finally opening his eyes again, Jack hesitated momentarily before continuing towards his destination: the school, with spires reaching for the sky, and the comfortable room underneath the kitchens. He had to search his mind for the knocking rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff', which he softly tapped out with his knuckle against the waist-high guardrails, and he could never forget the barrel that is two from the bottom, middle of the second row. The vinegar was also a potent memorisation tool because Jack had only made that mistake once. The pungent stink was stuck in his hair for weeks. He will never forget it, no matter how many bugs slip in and out of his brain. The thought of his younger self's mistakes seeded the beginnings of a slight smile on his wind-chapped lips.
"How long is this damn bridge?" A part of him wanted to act in a cinematic way. Still, the weariness was already starting to seep through the boy's legs, which only led Jack to roll his eyes at his sudden realisation that it had been a long minute since he had done anything that involved running or punching. He decided that should change and noted it down on his mental checklist directly beneath buying new underwear. Strangely enough, those were the only two things on his checklist at the current moment in time. More would be added, but there was a resolute 'I'll do it when I get to it'. Several people's faces flashed in his mind, but it goes to show that some parts of people are hard to change. So Jack's 'act first, think later' mentality was never going to change.
Lost in thought, Jack pressed the pad of his forefinger against the rough grain of the guardrail, acting as a guide while the boy travelled through the barren desert that was his mind. However, even with the previously mentioned long-ass bridge, his finger would soon find the end of the rail. It may be too early to come back. Was he ready to face the friends he had hurt? Because in the world outside this school, he suffered few consequences. Would he find them here? It was already too late to turn back as he stood before the large arches into the school.
“Don’t be a baby,” The boy muttered under his breath, while patting away the non-existent dust off his jacket’s shoulder. “Be a man, mate.” And he took his first step onto the grounds of Hogwarts for the first time in nearly a year.
ReducioIf nobody is particularly interested in the open, I shall close it as a Solo
"Speak softly and carry a big stick; You will go far"
-Teddy Roosevelt
Stamina- 7| Evasion- 17| Strength- 12| Wisdom- 5| Arcane power- 7| Accuracy- 10
Abilities: Fearless & Charmer
27 May 2025, 00:38
Return Of The Prodigal Son.
‿︵‿୨✿୧‿︵‿
Interacting: @Jack Warren
Mentioning: @
Winnie stood near the courtyard with a freshly picked bouquet of spring wildflowers cradled in her arms, long copper curls flowing in the light wind. She had been collecting them to make her friend, Aly, a flower crown while enjoying the warmer weather. Since the fall from the Owlery tower, she rarely stepped out alone. The memory of Gideon's ghastly form, the unnatural stretch of his spine, lurked behind her eyelids anytime she closed her eyes. But his lack of vicious actions as of late had made her grow a bit more comfortable.
Her eyes flickered across the courtyard to scan the area for any sign of Gideon, it was a nervous habit. Always checking. Always bracing. Always hiding the cracks. The appearance of another person caused her to pause. There, crossing the viaduct, was a very familiar face.
She didn't move at first, as if her body had forgotten how to move. Her breath caught in her throat. Was it a trick of her eyes? Could it really be Jack?
She’d cried when he disappeared. His absence felt like a missing part of her, despite the fact that they had been distant lately. She had heard rumours of what happened, heard he had been sent away. She had been upset when she returned to school and he wasn't there. But now...
Her feet suddenly remembered how to run. She was a flurry of pink as the flowers slipped from her arms, scattering on the ground below. She stumbled momentarily as her heels sunk into the grass, but as soon as she reached the viaduct they clicked against the stone, allowing her to gain speed. "JACK!"
Without a second thought, she leapt, far too short to reach his neck without some give, her small arms flung around his neck, her legs curling instinctively around his waist as she attached herself to him like a koala clinging to a damn tree branch.
"You came back!" Her voice broke first, then the dam, salty tears streaked her face. The trauma of the past year all came crashing down at once. Mathias. His lies. How he used them to protect her. The memories he'd taken. How his proposal had come with threats. How despite it all he was still safer than the alternative. How her father had never wanted her. Finding out she had a half-sister. The deafening sound of wind in her ears as she fell from the owlery. Her broken body. Her fractured mind. The death of her father.
She pulled back, staring up at him through tear-spiked lashes. "I missed you so much!"
│ │ | │ │ | STA: 15 • EVA: 18 • STR: 8 WIS: 11 • ARC: 7 • ACC: 17 | │ │ | • Healing Sage • Muggle Condition • Paragon of Health • • Poison Resistance • Animagus • Wandmaker • Lovely Creature • | │ │ | │ │ |
27 May 2025, 01:11
Return Of The Prodigal Son.
| xx |  |
xx |
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| xx | 𝙰𝙿𝚁𝙸𝙻 𝟸𝟽, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟻 | 𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙳𝙸𝙶𝙰𝙻 𝚂𝙾𝙽 |
𝙴𝙽𝙶𝙻𝙸𝚂𝙷 | 𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙷 |
xx |
| xxx | 𝓣ime flies when one is having fun. Perhaps that was why the past two weeks in the muggle world had felt more like two months. Every excursion away from Hogwarts recently had felt increasingly laborious, a chore to be accomplished rather than one to look forward to. At least cramming for the examinations had been excuse enough to have most of the time alone to herself. Very little of it had been afforded to her mother. Even the requests to help pack the house in order to be forced to spend time in proximity had been efficiently solved with a succinct swish of her wand and a single syllable, 'pack', turning an hours-long effort into barely-more-than-an-inconvenience solved in mere minutes. The bluff had been called. Her mother's irritation at the task's completion had been evidence enough of that. Evelynn had been glad to return to Hogwarts. So why did she feel so hollow? Like a lost spirit, Evelynn drifted through the throng of students likewise making their great return to Hogwarts following the Easter break. The journey from Hogsmeade had already been forgotten, the train ride likewise unimpressionable. Faces and figures melded into a featureless organism that swelled and ebbed around her, coaxing her towards the castle. Heels clicked on the stonework, cream-coloured fabric dancing about her legs with every unhurried stride. On the horizon, sun rays mingled with the forest's canopy, sending out swaths of gold and green. Would she ever get to see it again after the year's end? Certainly not as a returning student. Perhaps she might come back to teach someday. That notion almost threatened the shadow of a smile as the crowd turned onto the bridge. She allowed herself to linger, fingers tracing almost affectionately along the handrail as she moved across its length, eyes still directed towards the breath-taking countryside. There really was something magical about Hogwarts beyond the literal. She would have to make the most of these last months with those who had come to mean the most to her. Perhaps she ought to have been a bit more grateful when Adelaide insisted on ladening her with tins of paschal baking to gift to everyone. Her hand delved into the satchel hanging over her shoulder to ensure they had not shifted from where she'd stowed them just as a disturbance up ahead caught her attention. The funneling of students had temporarily faltered, some going so far as to express their annoyance for what was apparently someone blocking part of the viaduct's exit up ahead. And she knew exactly who at least one of the shouting voices belonged to. Melancholy gave way to a sense of urgency and fond warmth at the sound of her sister's voice. She had grown so accustomed to spending good portions of every day with Winnie ever since her discharge from St. Mungo's in January. She hadn't even realized how much she'd missed her over the holiday until that moment. Coattails flared as she pushed her way forward, the occasional, "excuse me", uttered with a quiet authority to any younger students reluctant or delayed in yielding to her path. Between students filtering around the freshly united faux-siblings and Evelynn's assertive cut through the swath, it wasn't long before she came upon the sight of a her sister with her arms flung around the neck of someone who was not Pride. Tear-streaked cheeks flared a sense of protectiveness in Evelynn that had her fingers itching to press the trigger of her wand's launching mechanism, but restraint allowed her long enough to take better stock. "Warren." Lips parted with surprise as recognition dawned. Winnie's tight embrace had obscured the profile of his face, but when she pulled back, there could be no mistake. Had he been on the train? "You came back." Her words mirrored those that had just preceded them, but where her sister's had been a desperate relief, Evelynn's were distant and skeptical, the lasting implications of their last encounter hardly forgotten. Her fingers did indeed come to rest on the trigger, then, but refrained from calling forth the weapon. Slate eyes slid to Winnie, concern evident. "Winn..." She circled around, raising the palm of her right hand to rest gently--protectively--upon her back. "You are crying... Are you alright?" |
xxx |
Last edited by Evelynn Decipio on 27 May 2025, 02:51, edited 2 times in total.
27 May 2025, 02:49
Return Of The Prodigal Son.
27 April, 2025
Roughly 6 p.m
Not even within a minute of stepping on the grounds of Hogwarts proper, the young man’s senses were assaulted by an incredibly familiar banshee shriek. The pinkest bat out of the most flower-doused hell, the swiftest zephyr of fiery-red hair could only ever be one person. Still, even Jack hadn’t been able to internalise such exterior stimuli before he felt a latching around his waist and neck. A stain of wet tears was already starting the threat to turn the lapel of his Jacket into something much more…dappled. Not exactly the start of a sorrowful return that the young man had expected, but Kaula, who was his sister, was something very welcome.
Arms raised and stumbling as if he were suddenly trudging through the depths of a river, the young man finally had the wherewithal to glance towards the shortest person he had ever known, aside from a particular Goblin with the surname of Towers. Thank god the girl didn’t slam him right off the bridge. “W-winnie?” he said, half in shock and the other in awe at such a joyful reunion so early on in his redemption tour. Soon enough, his brain caught up with reality, and the boy draped his arms around his little sister. “Of course I came back, do you think my mother would ever let me play hooky?” He said only half joking. The boy’s soft Irish lilt became much more pronounced while interacting with the pink spider monkey, “I missed ya too, Freddie. I would’ve never left you willingly, but y’know things happen” As softly as he could, the boy’s hand patted Winnie’s back. “But could you do me a favour, and hop down now? It’s kind of hard to move with you hangin’ on me like that.”
Sadly, with every ginger flash of lightning, there had to be a slow shadowing red-headed thunder cloud. Bummer. The ending days of his partnership with a particular bug were a blur at best, but Jack could remember the last moments as if it were yesterday. His last name used as more of a warning than a greeting, Jack turned to meet the sceptical eyes of a distrusting young woman, Evelynn Decipio. “Eve.” He said shortly, even if he knew better, but he was one to match an energy. “Were you expectin’ that I was locked up in Azkaban or somethin’?” Not the most fantastic start to the circuit of apologies he had imagined for months, but some old habits just won’t keel over and die. Antagonistic to a fault, some would say.
However, a true revelation finally dawned on the boy, as light began to illuminate the dull boy’s brain. Why was Decipio acting so concerned about Winnie? The moment the older carrot top began reaching towards his little sister, Jack swatted away the girl’s hand, shooing it away like some nuisance. “Since when did you give a rats arse about her? Actin’ all worried, like that.” He snorted defensively with a derisive half smile, as if to say, ‘Who does this chick think she is?’.
Interacting With @Winnie Harper & Begrudgingly with @Evelynn Decipio
"Speak softly and carry a big stick; You will go far"
-Teddy Roosevelt
Stamina- 7| Evasion- 17| Strength- 12| Wisdom- 5| Arcane power- 7| Accuracy- 10
Abilities: Fearless & Charmer
27 May 2025, 21:39
Return Of The Prodigal Son.
@Jack Warren @Winnie Harper @Evelynn Decipio
Two and a half years of being a prefect left its mark and its very specific habits. In her first months back at Hogwarts, Opeila had found herself subconsciously walking the routes she used to patrol multiple times. And when so many young children were named prefect, she walked them on purpose, as close to curfew as possible, trying to keep an eye on anything unusual before a child could run into it unprepared. Had she really only been a third year herself, when Professor Jensen gave her the badge?
At first it had pained the Slytherin to see her younger housemate wearing the very same badge that had been pinned to her own cloak for years, but one benefit came with losing the role- the pressure was gone. The feeling of responsibility for her sometimes so reckless classmates' safety slowly faded, left a hole at first that was now just the shadow of a weight removed.
Opeila deliberately walked a different route this evening. Not a prefect anymore. No more patrolling. Loras seemed to enjoy the change of routine, the grey cat ran ahead, exploring corners and chasing the occasional bug. Stayed clear of wasps though, Opeila noticed with a light smile.
Finally, the pair stepped outside of the castle, onto the long bridge that lead to Hogwarts' gates, the way they always walked when visiting Hogsmeade. Around this time, the bridge was usually empty, making it the perfect place to enjoy the last sunshine of the day in peace and enjoy the view of the lake.
... Not today though. For a second, Opeila was alarmed when she saw a large group of people walk towards the castle. What in the... Oh no. Quickly she calculated in her head what was already obvious- yes, one week had passed since Easter, which meant that actually most of Hogwarts' students were on this bridge right now.
The Slytherin was already about to turn around to go back to the castle, when a face caught her attention from the corner of her eye, making her freeze. Was that- Yes. No doubt, that was Jack Warren walking towards Hogwarts, looking hell of a lot better than he did last time they saw each other. But not just then. He hadn't looked good for a long time before that.
Now... Now he looked more like the boy she had punched back in first year. Thank god.
Opeila remained frozen, staring at her classmate, trying to sort the unexpected wave of emotions that threatened to well up. It was the guilt that ended up winning, which she hadn't even realized was there.
Last time she had seen Jack, was at the spring ball the previous year. Only a few months before, he had been in the hospital wing, like herself, looking more dead than she had. Which meant something, considering how much blood she had lost in the forest. Opeila and Jack had never been close, on the contrary, she never even liked him much. But in the forest, he had followed her to fight the tree monsters. Opeila, trapped by a ring of fire and Vlad's control, had watched the forest smash his windpipe.
And when he disappeared after... Opeila had never asked. Never gotten confirmation of his death, only tried to bury the events, fight the recurring migraines. Yes, she realized, she had believed her classmate dead. Like Victor, like other classmates who had just never returned.
Guilt settled in her stomach like a knot. Yes, Opeila and Jack had never been close, but after everything that happened... surely she would have owed him to at least try to find out if he was alright.
Winnie ran past her to greet Jack, then Evelynn joined them. And Opeila... Opeila averted her eyes, blinking away tears, her face burning with shame.
Last edited by Opeila Winters on 30 May 2025, 12:14, edited 1 time in total.
27 May 2025, 23:54
Return Of The Prodigal Son.
‿︵‿୨✿୧‿︵‿
Interacting: @Jack Warren | @Evelynn Decipio
Mentioning: @
Winnie didn't let go.
She stayed latched onto Jack, like ivy hugging an old stone wall, her fingers clenching the fabric of his new jacket. She didn't dare let him go in fear that he would vanish again, that she would wake up and find she had been dreaming. She buried her face against his chest, her heart thundering against the delicate pink outfit she wore.
"I know you wouldn't," she whispered, "b-but I was afraid that..." She trailed off, the words lodging in her throat. She didn't want to say it—that she had heard his mind had fractured. That he had been locked away in a quiet cold room. That she was worried they would keep him institutionalized forever.
She still remembered her own time in the ward all too well. The scent of bleach and despair. The suffocating spells that dulled her ability to cast magic. How time stretched on endlessly, Monday-stuck in an endless February. How a place meant to heal her mind had only destroyed it. How they hadn't believed her when she had told them she hadn't jumped.
She had been there less than a month, and she had still shattered. Jack had been gone for a year, and he was standing there, solid and warm, with the same sideways smile.
He was so much stronger than anyone gave him credit for.
She blinked, slowly at first, her eyes glassy as she registered the sound of a familiar voice. Evelynn. "Oh—Evie!" She gasped and sniffled, wiping her tears on the sleeve of her sweater, "I'm okay! Look, Jack!"
As though to prove how 'okay' she was, the Ravenclaw finally slid from the protection of Jack's arms, with a hand still clinging to one arm with a white knuckled grip, terrified he would suddenly vanish. "I was worried I wouldn't..." Her voice wavered, and she trailed off. She shook her head, sending a cascade of copper curls tumbling across her shoulders, "but he came back!"
Then it happened. Jack had swatted Evelynn's hand away from her back as if he were shooing away a mere fly. Winnie looked up at him in confusion, her brows knitting together.
"Jackson Simon Warren! Did you just swat Eve's hand?!" Winnie scolded, using the boy's full name as her hands dropped to her hips. "I love you and you'll always be my brother but—"
Suddenly, it hit her.
Jack had no idea how important Evelynn was to her, that she was family. Of course he didn't know, he had been away and was picking up where he had left off; the protective pseudo-brother.
"Jack... A lot has happened since you've been gone. And, well... Evie is... She's my half-sister." She revealed gently, her voice wavering as she looked between her two 'siblings', brother and sister, her past and her present, one from the heart and one from her blood. Her free hand reached down to intertwine with the Gryffindor's own hand, the other still clinging to Jack.
│ │ | │ │ | STA: 15 • EVA: 18 • STR: 8 WIS: 11 • ARC: 7 • ACC: 17 | │ │ | • Healing Sage • Muggle Condition • Paragon of Health • • Poison Resistance • Animagus • Wandmaker • Lovely Creature • | │ │ | │ │ |
1 Jun 2025, 03:30
Return Of The Prodigal Son.
| xx | |
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| xx | 𝙰𝙿𝚁𝙸𝙻 𝟸𝟽, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟻 | 𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙳𝙸𝙶𝙰𝙻 𝚂𝙾𝙽 |
𝙴𝙽𝙶𝙻𝙸𝚂𝙷 | 𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙷 |
xx |
| xxx | 𝓔yes met in a brief silence, the weight of the shared gaze heavier than any words could muster. Evelynn wasn't sure what to think in that moment. What should she think? It had been a year, yet the memories returned crisply enough to have been yesterday. She'd watched helplessly as Peri drew near to the boy digging voraciously in the earth as though blind and deaf to the rest of them. Her voice had torn from her throat with warning, calling him not to get any closer, instincts flaring with a danger sense. And rightfully so. As soon as the Ravenclaw had drawn within an arm's reach, Warren had struck unprovoked, sending his wand deep into the eye of his peer. Pericles had slumped back into Evelynn arm's, limp, blood pouring from behind the hand that refused to pull away from his socket. “Eve.” In another year, at another time, she might have tasked someone with taking him to the hospital wing and stayed to address the root of the problem, but she hadn't. She had taken him herself. It wasn't until afterwards, in the comfort and safety of the hospital wing that news of Warren's fate—and that of the insectoid resident extracted from him had—had reached her. Then he was gone. And they'd healed and moved on. In a twisted way, she supposed she had him to thank for instigating the trauma that allowed for the bonding of their group. Of course, that only made her more suspicious of him than not, her own eyes shifting between each of his, boring and searching for...something. “Were you expectin’ that I was locked up in Azkaban or somethin’?” With a subtle flare of her brow, she had to accept that—for now at least—he seemed as near to himself as she could gather. "I expected nothing of you," she remarked simply. Her focus shifted to Winnie once more, chewing on the younger girl's obvious delight. Evelynn had never been particularly close with Warren, but she had. Winnie could hardly be considered a good judge of character, but neither could the lioness discount her reaction. The witch had proven herself to be more calculated and cunning in the past than Evelynn would previously have given her credit. She also seemed to have a knack for survival and an ability to weave herself through the tapestries of those who claimed to command their threads. Not one to repeat her mistakes, instinct cautioned her to heed her sister's acceptance—to withhold from any premature judgment. That was, at least, until he deigned to swat away her hand from her gesture of comforting Winnie. Fury flared instantly, a white hot fire erupting at her collar. Ever since the outrageously manipulative proposal at the Fall Gala, Evelynn's concern for Winnie's wellbeing had progressively mounted, gaining traction in leaps and bounds at the moment of confirming their shared lineage, and again after her near-deathly fall from the tower. For months Evelynn had been there for her, nursing her memories and confidence back into existence, abating her fears and worries, protecting her from anything and anyone that could seek to do her harm. To suggest that the lioness had grown into something of a protective elder sister would be the understatement of the year. And the first thing that flashed across her mind as he cut between her and her sister was to tear his fucking hand from his arm. In that split second, pupils had constricted into narrow slits, lips had curled into a sneer to bare rapidly elongating fangs and nails had blackened and grown into sharp curving claws. If left to her own devices and quite unaware of their spectral witness (@Opeila Winters), Jack may very well have found himself as the main course for a rather furious mountain lion. Fortunately, Winnie happened to find the impertinent gesture just as deplorable. "Jackson Simon Warren! Did you just swat Eve's hand?!" The shock of Winnie's authoritative scolding was enough to jar Evelynn out of the reflexive transformation before she'd barely even started. If one blinked, they may have questioned whether they'd seen anything at all. Still, Evelynn's aura had shifted. A willingness to accept a certain neutrality about his return dusted beneath the contained indignance that roiled within her. Chin inclined slightly, she shot him a cold look, jaw set defiantly. For now, for Winnie's sake, she suppressed a very real desire to hex the boy into a premature return to St. Mungo's, the appearance of her wand in her hand daring him to test her. Gentle fingers groping would once again jar Evelynn from such sinful temptations, a downward flick of her eyes noting Winnie's reach for contact. Warmth soothed the edge off her anger, and her gaze softened as she regarded the girl's profile. Very deliberately, Evelynn slowly allowed her own fingers to close around the more petite hand, squeezing affectionately, particularly with the knowledge that raising the subject of their father could not be easy. "Fionnagáin is—was—my father as well. You have been gone some time, thus I cannot fault you your ignorance," Evelynn uttered quietly in explanation, returning a lidded gaze upon the returning badger. Not that he deserved one. "But mind your Prideful tendencies." Then continued to express in what sounded less like an empty threat, and more like a self-assured promise, "Do not ever presume to restrict me from my kin again." |
xxx |
13 Jun 2025, 03:05
Return Of The Prodigal Son.
Winnie Harper was one of the most magnetic people he had ever met, in the sense that if she were to start clinging on to you, it would be a very hard time trying to pull positive away from negative. Not that the Hufflepuff minded that much, considering that he had been touch-starved for so long. Things were still moving so fast, but it was nice to have such a familiar face to keep him grounded. Yet the twinge of guilt prodded at his heart when he glanced down at Winnie digging her face further into his chest. It was like a little cocktail sword trying to skewer its way into his core, and honestly, he wasn't enjoying the feeling very much.
In the awkward stiffness of Winnie's embrace, Jack couldn't help but glance around to see who was watching. However, it wasn't hard to pick out the white hair in a sea of dark-haired students. It was a unique look, but upon closer examination, the mug attached to that sterling hair had been acquainted with Jack. Though as he was otherwise preoccupied, he filed Opeila Winters into his brain under the 'We should probably have a conversation' category. Yet more pressing matters prevailed.
Jackson Simon Warren wasn't exactly enthused to see his Gryffindor classmate, Evelynn, especially after her remark about not expecting anything from him. It only made the boy bristle with annoyance. Oh, how he immediately fell back into old habits. Swatting away the Gryff's hand was a clear instinct for Jack. He was quite sure that the last time this young man had been at school, they hadn't even met. Jack would have had to be daft and blind to miss the outrage that spread across the Redhead's face as the spirit of a wild beast inhabited the smaller woman. However, she wasn't the only one with that trick up their sleeve. Jack's legs began to elongate, creating an even larger height gap between the two. The smallest nubs of antlers protruded from his temples, and his skull had only just started to elongate. What the boy had not expected was the shrill, irate voice of his little sister. Quickly as it had started, it stopped, and Jack's cervid features faded at his sister's admonishing words. Warren visibly cringed, his shoulders lifting slightly as his face wrinkled like a child forced to take their medicine. Did she have to use his full name?
It only took a moment after Winnie's words for Jack to recollect himself, a flash of memory pushing to the forefront of his mind. That masquerade was mainly a blur for Jack, but through the inky fog that had obscured his vision, he did remember what he had done to the now monocular Pericles. However, in the background of his vision of violence, a redheaded figure was still in the frame, bearing witness to all that had transpired. It was not his proudest moment, but the memory only served to instil further his desire to repent. His actions didn't exactly reaffirm the goal he had set for himself; slapping away Decipio's hand was not the most exemplary way to make amends.
Jack's lips thinned out into a straight line at the use of his full name, but what was going to be said was nothing that the Badger would have ever guessed. Winnie did not waste a single breath dropping that FUCKING NUKE on Jack's world. The boy blinked a couple of times, resisting the sunspots in his vision. A single eyebrow narrowed while the other fought to rise. His lips parted as if he were about to say something, but along with the dumbfounded face he was sporting, it was unlikely that he would be able to say anything for a moment. The soft sound of a sigh mixed with the softest "ah.." escaped him. Then, a louder Tsk as Jack finally was able to collect the few thoughts he had left.
"Well... this wasn' really on my bingo card for this year-" The confusion on his face was already beginning to wash away as he grasped at the understanding of this new revelation being introduced into his reality.
The pieces of the puzzle finally clicked into place as Evelynn began to speak again. Jack hadn't met Winnie's father before, but he had heard stories from the little redhead bird. Though there was a comment about his 'Prideful tendencies' or whatever, which caught his ear, was the use of the word Kin. Like, what? Jack Warren tilted his head to the side, looking at Decipio. A conflict raged in his brain, whether or not he should say something, but in the end, he could not beat the urge to snark. "Why are you talking like that? Like you're in some Jane Austen book? Did you just decide to start talking like that, or did you always talk like an orphan from the eighteen hundreds?" Jack probably is going to pay for that one, but the glimpses of a mischievous spark in his eyes gave proof that not even a brain worm could kill Jack's sense of humour. "What?" He asked preemptively as he glanced down at Winnie, expecting some glowering from his sister.
Interacting with @Winnie Harper & @Evelynn Decipio
Mentions @Pericles Dralt & @Opeila Winters
"Speak softly and carry a big stick; You will go far"
-Teddy Roosevelt
Stamina- 7| Evasion- 17| Strength- 12| Wisdom- 5| Arcane power- 7| Accuracy- 10
Abilities: Fearless & Charmer
16 Jun 2025, 02:42
Return Of The Prodigal Son.
‿︵‿୨✿୧‿︵‿
Interacting: @Jack Warren | @Evelynn Decipio
Mentioning: @
The Ravenclaw clung to her sister's hand like it was a lifeline, her wide glassy blue eyes flickering between Jack and Evelynn, fire and ice, past and present, love and blood. They were the two people, other than Mathias and her mother, who meant the most to her. Jack, who had been her brother in everything but blood and relation, and Eve, who had came into her life like a shockwave, but had changed everything for the better.
Her heart ached.
She felt bad; she hadn't meant to lash out at Jack, hadn't meant to break. He had just taken her by surprise with his defensive—or perhaps jealous?—nature. She hadn't really seen him get this protective over her since she first started dating Mathias. She took in a shuddering breath as she tried to keep the memory from surfacing, the one of Jack's fists smashing the redhead's face in and—no... please... Don't remember that, don't... He's broken. He's broken just like we are.
No. Stop. Don't. The cracks, hide them, hide them. He hadn't known, how could he? He wasn't there. Hadn't seen her search for answers, how shallow her father's grave had been, how Eve had shielded her during that time, despite being in mourning herself.
"H-Hey!" Her voice came out in a mere squeak as she watched the two shift between their animagus forms. The sight of fur, of antlers splitting skin, the glint of sharp fangs. Her heart staggered, the tension in the air strumming like strings pulled taut.
"S-Stop!" She cried out again, louder this time. "Jackie, Evie, please... You are both... So impossible at times! I need both of you."
But she felt unheard as Jack made a snide remark about the way Evelynn spoke. Panic rose in her throat, reality twisting as her mind twisted the scene in front of her. Stop, make them stop, can't lose them, not Jack, not Eve.
With a sudden flash, Winnie's form twisted and blurred, shrinking with a shimmer of magic as her features twisted into her canine form. Where Winnie once stood a small copper-coated retriever stood between the two of them.
A whine bubbled from her throat as she scampered forward, her ears drawn flat as she nudged her pink nose against Jack's hand. Her teeth chomped gently onto his coat, as if to keep him from running away. Her eyes were wide and pleading, the same shade of blue as Winnie's. Please don't fight.
Her tail wagged slowly as she peered up at Evelynn next, shooting her a set of sad puppy dog eyes. She gave a small huff, one paw shifting forward to gently scrape against her leg. If Winnie had learned anything about her animagus form it was that she wasn't threatening in it, and people had the tendency to fawn over her. It might have been the distraction the two stubborn sixth years needed to start getting along... Or at least forget about the hostility crackling between the two of them..
│ │ | │ │ | STA: 15 • EVA: 18 • STR: 8 WIS: 11 • ARC: 7 • ACC: 17 | │ │ | • Healing Sage • Muggle Condition • Paragon of Health • • Poison Resistance • Animagus • Wandmaker • Lovely Creature • | │ │ | │ │ |