Fire and Light PV - Gryff only Finished

@Xailah Alptraum

Piérre loved cats, especially cats that seemed to serve as clichés to their kind. Schrödinger seemed to be one of those kinds of cat, for he lazily opened and closed enchantingly beautiful golden eyes. Piérre was about to reach for the fat cat, when Schrödinger suddenly rolled over and against the door of the office, causing a large bang to occur. Piérre couldn't help but let out a small laugh at the cat's antics. It was the small things that always brought the young Gryff such joy, and this was no exception.

However, the funniness of the situation was cut short as the door suddenly creaked open slightly to reveal that the Prefect, and her catlike yellow pupil was still around. Piérre's ears lowered. Had she been expecting him and was now going properly give him a detention? Had this all been planned out?

On the contrary, it seemed, for she hissed at him through the door. Hissed for Piérre to get in and not get caught. Sooner said than done.

With a nod, Piérre smiled weakly as he wormed through the door, taking the Prefect's offer of what seemed to be a tenuous alliance. Piérre was sure that it was unlikely to last for long, but he was willing to take a chance and try to make a friend of the situation that had been given him.

Having slipped into the room, Piérre looked around the area, looking at all the miscellaneous and wonderful items that were probably useless, but yet... still intriguing, as he spotted many love letters exchanged between unknown and known lovers. Piérre was curious as to who those people were. He kind of wanted to see rumors in reality, even if he wasn't the person to spread them.

His thoughts were cut off by the Prefect's next words, as the fat grey cat sauntered into the room at the Prefect's beckoning, the statement that Piérre should have gotten the name of the boy that had been there just earlier. That was where the boy had gotten a slightly more concerned look, as if he had been caught in the act of something. "I.. um... I didn't really get his name..." He hadn't wanted to be pushy when interacting with the jittery boy, and he certainly didn't want to have come off as overbearing. Not wanting to disappoint, though, Piérre added quickly; "But I usually have a really good memory with faces and personalities! If I run into him again, I'll remember! I'm sorry for any inconvenience, Miss Prefect!" Piérre looked around a little more. The office certainly did look trashed, but Piérre got the feeling that it may have been like that even before the boy had had gotten his hands on the things within.

Nodding along with the Prefect, Piérre began to touch in a few areas in and around the desk, looking for anything peculiar. He wasn't entirely sure what he would be looking for, but it seemed logical that he look for anything that looked out of the ordinary. "If he was trashing the area, do you think it was possible that he was looking for something?"

Piérre Enters the Office and Begins to look around in the desk

Ability in Use- Keen Eye
10% chance to find something out of the ordinary once in a moderated situation
or in finding the Snitch in a game of Quidditch
(Cannot be used consecutively when searching for a single object,
but can be used on different objects)

The metamorph peered down the hall, looking for unwanted eyes. She saw none, which only made her wary- the eyes that concerned her, were the one that could not be seen. Like small eyes. Tiny eyes were hard to detect. Xailah disliked small beady eyes. Beady eyes, were lifeless. Soulless. The only thing they did do, was reflect whatever they saw. She would take another glance out the door, before finally closing it.

The Gryffindor boy had failed to get a name from the Caretaker boy. The prefect clicked her tongue in disappointment. "Did you get his house at least?" She had only gotten a glimpse of the Caretaker boy. She registered his basic features- dirty blonde hair, slightly tanned skin, overall face shape. But she missed the finer details, like the house he was in, and his eye color. She had seen a glimpse of what looked to be green on the boys blazer, but it could have very well been blue.

She hopped on to the top of a nearby desk, legs swinging; her shoes barely touched the floor. She was rather quiet at this point, seeing that she had taken an interest in the Game Boy, that she took. The lioness wasn't too sure about what the thing did, but she did notice that it looked like a small television. She knew about televisions, a odd Gryffindor boy had told her about them once. So maybe this Game Boy, was a compact way to watch the moving pictures? She wished muggle things worked in the wizarding world. She could learn so much then.

She knew the thing wouldn't work, but she couldn't help but try to get it to start up. Her dainty fingers bashed at the buttons, until they got stuck. Well, the small box was rather underwhelming to say the least. She could take it apart when she got back to her dorm, wasn't like she could do any further damage to it anyway. The thing was practically fried. She continued to inspect the device however, while answering Piérres question. "Not if. He did trash the ssspace. And he was looking for something."

"Look." She jumped down from the desk, to point a slender finger at thumb-shaped spot on a drawer. "What do you see?" She rubbed her glove over the dust-free spot. "No dust. Even if this had happened a day ago- even a few hours ago, there would be a thin layer of dust already settling." She turned over her hand to show the boy, her glove was clean. "Either he found what he was looking for, or he got ssspooked before he could find it. Notice that some of the drawers went undisturbed. I think he found whatever he came here for- he was awful eager to leave, I sssuspect a guilty conscience."

Xailah had Victor figured out. He had found whatever it was that he was looking for and then fled before he could put the room back together. It was easy to spook someone that felt incredibly guilty. Stealing was wrong. Even if he was tasked to take the item. 

All the 'good stuff' was just left behind.

What could be inferred from that? Well, either he was looking for something specific or the boy had a real strange sense of priorities. In truth he was looking for something specific. Not that they could possibly know that for certain.

What else could be gleaned from this strange scene. The boy was not much of a fighter. He was either incredibly flaccid, a coward or someone that did not like confrontation. The quavering voice, the look of panic in fear in his face suggested that he was either fearful of confrontation or useless in a fight. Maybe a bit of both. 

Strange kid.

Strange situation.

Piérre was just starting to involve himself in this mystery. It was not as simple as stumbling over the murder weapon or discovering a book entitled My Secret Plan. It was like having a banner that announces the killer written out someplace. You don't find things like that, not unless they are meant to be found. This was not a planned situation. There was nothing set-up for them to find. Just a boy in a place where he did not belong, rummaging through places he should not and then fleeing as if he would be accosted.

@Xailah Alptraum & @Victor Moore

Piérre had never been the puzzle solver or the Mystery breaker in his house. Often times, he was the stinker that was the spark of the investigation. He was the petty thief of the cookie jar and the sweet bowl, and Romeo was the one who would first observe his fingerprints and put two and two together. Piérre was lucky sometimes, sometimes it would be a ‘perfect crime’, and sometimes he could sway
Romeo with promise of a few sweets for him... but he had never understood how his brother could solve a mystery so quickly.

Perhaps this was why he was so naïf to the current situation, looking for things that he knew he was never going to find to open and close the case. No journal, no Modus Operandi, nothing really intriguing.

"Did you get his house at least?"

”Slytherin.” Piérre responded before realizing that he spoke. ”His poise was too nervous to be a Gryffindor, and I’ve never met one who runs from conflict thus far... the color of his blazer definitively wasn’t yellow... He could have been a Ravenclaw, but he started running in the opposite direction from the Ravenclaw dorms, towards the stairs leading downstairs... If he was an Eagle, he would have left the same way you and I came from, unless he was really that scared of me or you and tried to loop around.”

Piérre looked up, creasing his brow in thought at the girl who was toying with the Nintendo Gameboy. ”Come to think of it... how did you know we were here?” Not only had the Prefect snuck up on him and the boy, but there was the overhanging question of how she had known that they were here in the first place. Piérre already had a feeling that he knew. He had his bet laid on Marauder’s Map, for he had been tracked once in a similar fashion once before. ”If you have the Map, maybe you could follow his movements and confirm my suspicion.” Piérre smiled quietly. ”By the way, I like the Gameboy. Where’d you find that one?”

The Prefect gave mention to the fact that the boy had had guilty conscience and that his deed had been completed quickly, as she pointed out a small, thumbprint-sized disturbance of dust. Piérre glanced in the drawer as well, not daring to touch the area, for while the Prefect had gloves, he did not, and he did not want to risk messing up potential evidence with his own hands. He knew that much about forensic sciences. Digging around in his satchel for a moment, Piérre searched for something, anything he could use to serve as a substitute glove. Nothing met him.

”I would agree that he had a guilty conscience... or perhaps he was nervous that I showed up, contrary to what he thought would happen... But then the question is why did he come here? What specifically was he looking for? I see the imprint of a finger, but why only in that spot? Why something so small?” Questions. Perhaps useless ones, but something to help someone think closer about the situation. He himself was bad at logic puzzles, but he tended to be very good at inspiring others to notice small things and solve the logic puzzle through his observations. ”Could there be fingerprints? Something about this drawer different from the rest?”

Something was nagging him. Something here was off. ”He was scared... Scared of what?” Failure? Lack of effort? Bullying?

Being unable to find the object?

”If nothing else was touched, he must have just looked in here, mustn’t he have?” Piérre asked, tipping his head at the oddly round imprint. ”What other secrets are in here?” He nodded to it. ”I would star searching, but I don’t want to corrupt evidence with unsolved hands. I guess you came prepared, huh?” He jested lightly, trying to better the mood.

Slytherin. Caretaker Boy was rather sloppy for a Slytherin. Leaving the scene of the crime in utter disarray, was the type of carelessness that she expected from a Hufflepuff, or even one from her own house- of course, houses were practically meaningless; not everyone fit into the glove, that was their house. The metamorph was a prime example of that. Really everything just came down to the person. In conclusion, Caretaker Boy, was just a careless person- or he was just inexperienced, either way, it would be his downfall. He rushed a job, he got sloppy, and it got him caught. If he had put the drawers back where he had found them, any former suspicions of criminal activities, could have been forgotten.

The metamorph, chose to be evasive when answering the boy that was with her. "How did I know? Aha, I would love to tell you, but then, of course, I'd have to kill you." The line was delivered in a matter-of-factly tone. It was a joke, of course. A poorly executed one. You can rest assured, that she had no intention to kill anybody- seriously maim, maybe, but not kill. Her vengeful nature, had fallen dormant after the events at the Masquerade. She gave him a stiff shrug, before pulling a small square, of folded parchment from the inside of her robes.

With a quick flick of her wrist, she would flip the map open. "Slytherin." She nodded in confirmation, as she watched the little ink-footprints disappear into the Slytherin common area. "Damn." She tucked the map away, once again. "He's in the common rooms. Can't get him now." It was frustrating to think that she might have been able to go catch him, if she had just left the office. It was another case where temptation had got the best of her. Her golden gaze, met with the the other Gryffindors green one. Where did she find the Game Boy? "Somewhere." She replied, nonchalantly.

The Elf, had brought up some good questions, course the lioness wouldn't admit it. She watched with curiosity, as the boy shuffled through a little bag of his own. What did he have in there? She suspected that the Gryffindor was seeing something that she didn't. She had pointed out the fingerprint, for the sake of proving that the Slytherin was the one who tore the room apart- not that it would stop him from thinking otherwise. Well, she wasn't going to speak up about it, figuring that if she left him to his lonesome, he would find at least something- and to be fair she didn't have much to say anyways. She wasn't much of a talker. The Prefect, and the Elf were not the most ideal combination, when considering that.

"He would have no reason to be nervous, unless he was doing sssomething he wasn't sssupposed to be doing." Xailah was slightly familiar with the feeling. But, as she got used to her habit, she started having little remorse in her actions. Even kleptomaniacs have the occasional cloud of guilt, that would come to shadow them. "He's afraid of the consequences." She said to the Gryffindor, with little thought. The statement was open for interpretation. The lioness was confused at first, when the Elf claimed that she had come prepared- only when she glanced down at her hands, would his statement click. "Wha- Oh. Of course."

"Here." She peeled off her left glove, revealing the pale flesh beneath. She had odd little scars, on those dainty hands. They were pinpricks, from a fight with a vine in the forbidden forest- they were a constant reminder of what had happened at the Blossom Ball. They would only be visible for a second, before they morphed and blended into the pale color of her hands. A trick of the light, perhaps? She shoved the piece of black fabric, towards the boy. Chances are, it wouldn't be a good fit. The glove had been tailor-made, specially for the girl. "Give it back when you're done. And be quick, we probably shouldn't ssstick around here for much longer."

Actually as she opened the Marauder's Map she would see a detour. He was moving in the direction of the Slytherin Common Room, however he took a detour. He had headed to the Kitchens, but there was constant moving on the map. This to and fro motion that she would see. He was not going to remain there for long, while he was not there yet, he soon would be in the Slytherin Common Room. 

As the duo searched the room, it would be apparent that Victor either failed to get what he was after or he got what he was after and left. What they would know for certain is that he was not after stuff, Victor was a questionable youth but he was no thief. He was a coward, sure. He was not particularly strong and he seemed to be in a hurry. 

There was no forensics lab in Hogwarts. If there was, the only way that it was going to get used was if there was a dead body in this mess. This mess. He did not know where it was, well not exactly. Whatever it was, it was small enough to fit in drawers. That did not narrow it down a great deal, he was also able to keep the item or the artifact on his person in a manner that was not grossly obvious. Whatever it was, it was small. But beyond that, there was not much to be gleaned besides incredibly suspicious activity.

@Victor Moore & @Xailah Alptraum

Piérre smiled a little more at hearing the dry remark from Xailah about killing him if she revealed the secret of her knowledge. ”Of course. After all, two can better keep a secret if one of them are dead!” He shrugged. He was not anywhere good at being gothic or grim, especially not without humor being thrown in, but he was good at taking a joke and honoring a will to keep something that was a personal secret under personal tabs. In short, he knew when to stop talking if required... And only if there were no other options.

What Xailah mentioned to him about the boy being suspicious was not new information to the Gryffindor boy, and when Piérre had mentioned the fact that he had been looking for something like fingerprints, Xailah had slipped off one of the soft black gloves that she wore, offering it to the Britalian. The action had taken Piérre aback a bit, as he had not expected the girl to actually support him in his research, but a blessing was a blessing, and Piérre was thankful for everything.

Still, he couldn’t get over peeking at Xailah’s hand, one of the few parts of her which were now exposed. Yes, she was pale, but it wasn’t just her face, but her hands as well. Were those scars which stealthily crisscrossed across the backs of the girl’s hands? Somewhat like Piérre’s own palms from a Snitch incident of his own when he was a child visiting the Ministry with Mathilda to learn about the Wizarding world.

”Oh! Thanks!” Piérre beamed, gently taking the black glove. It was soft and small, the fingers were perhaps a touch thin, but with Piérre’s tiny hands and lithe fingers used to strumming on stringed instruments, it was a good fit, and Piérre even dared to say that the glove was a little big, mostly around his wrist and just the tips of his fingers. Other than that, well, it fit like a glove.

After searching for a bit, carefully handling papers around the desk and tapping around the area curiously, Piérre tipped his head. True, he wasn’t one to immediately assume or discover anything right off the bat, but the situation was too suspicious for him to just turn away from. Alas, even if there was something to investigate, the trail by now would be cold, and there would be little to no point. As the Prefect mentioned, they shouldn’t stay for long, otherwise they would get in trouble. Judging by the girl’s nature, Piérre was willing to hedge the bet that he didn’t want to get in trouble with her. It wasn’t on the basis that he thought her to be a bad person or even the fact that her style and look was quirky, in fact, Piérre was quite fond of the steampunk style that she pulled off effortlessly, but it was merely for the fact that the idea of a Prefect getting in trouble with him would be offsetting, especially since the girl was a Prefect, whose job was to maintain order in the student body.

With a huff of displeasure, Piérre took off the glove, offering it back to Xailah. ”Thank you!” He chirped happily, trying to be uplifting even though he was a little miffed. ”Its a nice style, I should really invest in a pair as well.” Biting his nail again, Piérre’s brow creased in confusion and curiosity. There was more that met the eyes, that was for sure, but another thing that was for sure was that he couldn’t stay any longer. This would have to conclude his little investigation.

”Alright. Let’s wrap and skedaddle! One more sweep and then we run!”” It was metaphorical, of course. Unlike the boy who had run, Piérre knew how to walk away from a petty thievery. Look natural and blend in, first rule of thumb; second rule of thumb: don’t get caught.

Piérre squinted at the desk one more time. He had to be missing something. Perhaps it was worth another looksie after this was over. When he was concluded, Piérre would nimbly make his way to the door and slip out after bidding Xailah a goodbye. ”Thanks Miss Prefect! It was nice to meet you!” Piérre waved excitedly before finally resigning himself to leaving the scene.

He would be back, mark his words, but now was not the time to investigate fully.

Dunno if this can be used still, or what I used it on the first time, but something’s better than nothing, right?

Piérre exits the thread after investigating for any secrets in the drawers

Ability in Use- Keen Eye
10% chance to find something out of the ordinary once in a moderated situation
or in finding the Snitch in a game of Quidditch
(Cannot be used consecutively when searching for a single object,
but can be used on different objects)

Sometimes she didn't like to look at the overall picture- and quite literally most times. She saw what she wanted to see, and when she felt like seeing it. She could have gotten the names of both students, by looking on her map, but for whatever reason she chose to ignore them. She could have seen pacing on her map, but she chose to ignore that too. It was more fun this way. Thoughts of the hag doll, in her pouch, surfaced and sank. She had puzzle pieces, yet she refused to add them to the overall puzzle; for the sake of this game of cat, and mouse that she played.

She had leverage with the situation, being a threatening, prefect and all- well, anyone could have leverage really, considering Caretaker boy was obviously a weenie. She was sure that if she had the chance to corner him, he would probably spill everything. The lioness kept her eyes glued to the door, as the Elf boy continued his search. The last thing she wanted, was for someone to barge in on the two of them. It wasn't that she was scared of the possible consequences, of being caught; she simply didn't want to bother with coming up with a reasonable explanation as to why, she, a prefect, someone who was supposed to uphold the rules- not that she cared for the rules; was in an abandoned room with some boy.

Throwing the boy under the bus, was always an option if someone were to intrude- however she was not one to simply pass the buck, to someone else. It was an option, but not one she would want to resort to. The Elfs search was quick- or maybe it just seemed quick due to no one keeping track of the time. Not that anyone really needed to anyways. The metamorph turned to meet the boys viridian-green eyes. Judging by his perplexed expression, he presumably found nothing of use. "Nothing, huh?" She murmured, reaching out to take her glove back.

She found the tone of the young lion, to be confusing- if she were being honest just him in general was confusing. How could one remain so chipper? It was unnatural. Of course, she wasn't in the place to be judging unnatural behavior- for reasons that were obvious. She provided no input on his comment about, investing in a pair of gloves of his own. So, he was mostly met with a indifferent silence, and an unamused stare. The metamorph did not think of what she wore as "a style", considering she had worn the same "style" for all her life; not to mention she had been raised in a Victorian household. To her, they were just her clothes.

The lioness shifted, sliding away from the boy so he could get by. "Go on." She said, glossing over his faux Slytherin robes, before gesturing a pale ungloved, hand towards the door. "Try not to run into me again tonight. I might have to put you in detention, if we happen to meet again." Detention could be a hassle sometimes, but she didn't usually have an issue with handing it out. She did however have an issue with putting her fellow lion in detention, only because she was certain he would talk her ear off. This was not an act of kindness. This was an act of protecting her sensitive ears.

"Tatty-bye." She called to the boy, with little thought. It was an automatic response. When someone says farewell, how do you respond? You return the goodbye, of course! The farewell hardly meant a thing. The lioness would watch the boy leave; then stood still, to listen, and see if he was really gone. She would not be following after him immediately. The Office had been tampered with, and she needed to remove the signs of a search, and any sort of trespassing.

She stooped, fumbled with the loose papers, and put them into a neat stack before returning them to the drawers they originally came from. Once everything was put back, she carefully returned all the drawers to their cubbies, before producing a sleek wand from the inside of her robes. Magic was always her last resort, she often didn't use it because spells could be tracked- she liked to keep her slate clean. This however was one of the rare times, she would actually use a spell outside of class.

"Scourgify." Who would ever question a cleaning spell? She waved her wand, sending the dust into the air, only for the particles to vanish. No dust. No fingerprints. No evidence. The cleaned space, could be passed off as work done by one of the House Elves. Pleased with the results of the spell, she returned her Chestnut wand back to her robes. "Schrödinger." The cat turned his rounded moon-face upwards, at the sound of his name, there was a lazy gleam in his copper eyes. "Time to go." Scooping up his lumpy, grey form, she would make her exit, with her faithful sidekick. "We were never here." Their work here was done- for now.