Let There Be Night
July 10th 2025
Speech: #cfa120
Thoughts: Italics
@Casey Stone - @Scout Fu-Hai - @Cursa McCoire@Colin McCoire - @Zyair Ona'je
Emily stuck a cautious hand into the gap in the hole. When she felt something square hit her fingers, she latched on and pulled out a box from out of its chamber. The box itself was old and bent in spots, its contents nothing more than dark, murky glass bottles that looked like they had been left there for months. She was about to start rifling through the bottles until she heard gentle footsteps behind her. Zyair. He probably ought to be with Casey, same as herself, but it would appear curiosity would follow anything no matter who or what it was, so long as it had something to nab on to.
Emily gestured Zyair to join her on the floor. "These were just hiding in that hole in the wall here--" she nodded towards said hole. "--And by the looks of it, these haven't been touched in a while."
She brought the box out further into the light of a flickering candle back out in the small corridor. It was then she and Zyair could see the stains inside the bottle, liquid residue left behind. Even without that little detail, Emily and Zyair could tell the bottles had never been cleaned. Not even a rinse under the tap.
"Hmm... There's no label on the box for these," Emily observed as she examined the box. "I wonder then what these bottles were used for..."
A bottle crushed underneath the rest bore a very old and crumpled label on it. Emily lifted it out and straightened out the creases in the label. Her breath hitched when she made out the word that was written in faded black ink.
"Wolfsbane..."
The potion that gifted werewolves the ability to retain their human mind. The very same potion that allowed Colin to get up and personal with Emily without losing himself to beastly instincts or intentions. Wolfsbane was essentially the very last connection between a werewolf and their humanity. Without it, they'd be no different than the animal kingdoms most dangerous predators... If not worse.
"I suppose Nick has been collecting these as a way of tracking his wolfsbane intake," Emily said to Zyair. However, her forehead wrinkled as she stared deep at the bottles in the box, as well as glancing periodically at the bottle in her hand.
"These bottles are so small... Almost too small to be able to provide a whole week's worth of doses leading up to the full moon."
She knew the kinds of bottles Colin always had on him when he was due his wolfsbane on the run up to his monthly cycle. By contrast with Nick's bottles, Emily started feeling a bit uneasy.
"If I had to estimate, these bottles must range somewhere between one hundred and seventy five to two hundred and fifty millimetres," Emily said, holding up a bottle to the light. "I imagine it would take somewhere between thirty and sixty millimetres to make up a proper dose of wolfsbane for each night preceding the full moon for them to actually take effect. After all, a single discrepancy renders the wolfsbane potion entirely useless. These bottles here... They don't look like they make up a full proper cycle's worth at all. Not even all the bottles combined..."
Emily counted the bottles. There were nine in all, including the one she had cradled in her hand.
She turned to Zyair worriedly. "I don't think Nick has been procuring enough wolfsbane for each of his cycles. These bottles altogether would last him maybe a week and a half. That's barely two full moons worth. And if that's the case, then..."
She didn't even want to finish the obvious conclusion she came to in her head. Having considered it, everyone was extremely lucky Nick had a human mind while he was downstairs that very moment. That got Emily thinking...
"Where does he even get these, seeing that he's so far removed from society...?"
She put the bottle she picked up earlier into her coat pocket. She would have to ask Colin about it when they'd return back to school for the new term. She reckoned he could shed some light about the inner-machinations of wolfsbane.
She got up and dusted herself off, mustering as hopeful a smile as possible to Zyair.
"What say you and I go check on Casey... Because knowing him, he won't be taking any of this too easily..."
That was something else Emily was dreading... And going by that agonising yell that cut through the silence of the room from outside, she knew everything she needed to in that moment.
"That... Cannot be a good sign... Come on."
She invited Zyair to follow her as she made her way out the bathroom and towards the front door.
This wasn't going to be smooth sailing, she thought.
Word Count: 803
Stats: Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 7 | Wisdom: 9 | Arcane Power: 8 | Accuracy: 8
Abilities: Non-Human Enthusiast |Cat's Grace |Calming Presence
Trust Yourself - Love Yourself - Be Yourself
iNPC = Casey Stone
Let There Be Night
Roleplaying as Casey Stone from Ilvermorny
July 10th 2025
Speech: Bold #257379
Thoughts: Bold Italics
@Scout Fu-Hai - @Zyair Ona'je - @Emily Shephard - @Cursa McCoire
He wanted to throw up. He couldn't taste bile but he knew something was trying to come up, catching on the back of his throat and forcing him to choke. Nothing came out when he coughed into the ground. He heaved until he felt his chest slowly began climbing down from the weight of whatever he was feeling. Casey didn't know anymore. Everything that sat in his belly like a lead balloon and clawing at his mind like a skipping horror story on loop weighed him to the ground.
Every figment of Nick replaying in Casey's mind had him banging his forehead off the the grass. Perhaps if he banged a little harder, he would wake up... Or maybe land himself into a long enough sleep that he wouldn't have to face what he couldn't deny. Nick was a werewolf.
A flurry of curses fell out of his mouth as he pounded a hardened fist into the dirt, a knuckle-shaped dent digging deeper after each punch. One was directed at Scout when she came over to him. Casey had to step back before he would let it hit her. Her expression was sad and soft, the usual Scout-like denial disguised underneath. It was enough to tame Casey's temper for that brief moment.
And brief it was, when Scout said she knew it "sucks."
"Sucks?" Casey echoed, thunderstruck before his face turned venomous. He leapt to his feet to face her. "You think finding your brother who you nearly thought was dead, turn into a werewolf is a petty inconvenience?! Do you actually get what that means?? You're a frickin' witch, Scout, you should know! How the hell can he come home when he's like that now? Werewolves are nothin' but monsters to our society. Anyone and everyone would come after him if he was ever found out. He might as well be dead!"
He scrubbed a distraught hand down his face. His parents couldn't know. They deserved to know, but what if-- No. No. They wouldn't. Not their own son. Not their first born. Their first joy. They couldn't.
But so long as Casey was thinking on the possibility, he couldn't have total faith in them that they wouldn't see him as what everyone else did.
Casey scrutinised Scout with unwavering eye contact, searching hers for something. Cursa said something almost as unbelievable as Nick being a werewolf.
So where's your transformation then? he asked bitterly. Where's your wolfsbane? Your fangs? Claws? I saw the way you came at my brother, Scout. You acted like a damn animal, more so than any of us suspected Nick to be one."
Casey circled Scout. "Cursa said you could be a werewolf. And honestly? I've got an inkling to believe him. You always act like like some possessive predator, threatenin' to scratch or bite anyone that comes close to your frickin' Emily. Are you cursed too, Princess? Is that it?"
He knew he was being unreasonable when it became apparent Scout wasn't going to transform any time soon. The tiniest fraction of rationality within him prayed for her forgiveness whilst his anger ran him deeper into his tangent.
"I'm almost disappointed, Princess," he drawled derisively. "Lycanthropy would suit ya perfectly..."
He suddenly punched a tree and grunted at the impact of his knuckle cracking against impenetrable bark. Another sharp curse slipped between his teeth.
"God dammit! Why did it have to be him?! You're more wolf than he ever was... So why?! Why not you?! Or Bronks?! Or Grice?! What the hell did my family do to be laughed at by society like this?!"
He dropped back to his knees and repeatedly pounded the earth. "Damn you, damn you, DAMN YOU!"
Word Count: 618
Stats: Stamina: 9 | Strength: 8 | Evasion: 7 | Wisdom: 7 | Arc Power: 7 | Accuracy: 8
Abilities: Fearless |Poison Resistance |Obnoxiously Strong
Let There Be Night
*Making this potion is class is too difficult, I can't do it.
july 10th, 2025 wc: 650 interacting with: @Casey Stone & @Emily Shephard
for whose sake is it shall we try to be tough?
Zyair filed through his brain to figure out what wolfsbane was. He didn't want to seem like he was stupid, so he didn't ask, but the word was foreign in his mind. Wolf was loup- ah, tue-loup. His sister had come home one year during break, talking fast to their mother about how there was this awful potion she never could get right. 'Préparer la potion est trop difficile, je n'y arrive pas.' 'Ah bon? Quelle potion?'* 'Tue-loop... ah, in English it's wolfs killer.' 'Serves them right.' He didn't need any more context clues. He remembered his professor's talking about the effects of the potion, and why it was so difficult to make, and even harder to master.
"I'm not sure... although, it's likely he makes them himself, no? He's an adult by wizards society, and he went to school. I don't know all of the ingredients, can he not get them all out here?" Zyair seldom paid attention in any class that taught potions, finding the subject to be little more than a long, drawn-out bore. When he offered his opinion to Scout, she absolutely would not listen to anything he had to say, claiming that it was just as fun and interesting as learning spells. But from what he did know, weren't most potions comprised of organic things found in creepy forests like this? There were things like dragons body parts that he was sure Nick wouldn't be able to get, but if it was just made of plants, he could probably even grow them out here. The sporadic sunlight might hinder that...
"Are you insinuating that Nick would...?" He dare not finish the sentence, a true sense of dread filling his chest. Swallowing the feeling building, he glanced back behind them, if just to hide the way his eyebrows and lips downturned from Emily. When he felt sufficiently de-emotioned, he continued his thought. "I cannot in good faith imagine that Nick would keep us in close proximity if he knew he wouldn't be able to control himself- that's what the potion does, yes? And... maybe it's from my own lack of understanding of the situation Nick is in, why would he risk not only his own life, but the lives of others by not reaching out to someone? It does not make sense- not to me. I just... he has a family who is missing him, he has a brother who has done everything in his 13-year-old power to find him, could this secret really be so detrimental if it got out, that Nick is willing to throw everything away?" As Zyair finds himself ranting on, he swears he can sees Scout's face in his mind, can imagine her doing the same thing Nick is doing right now. The secret is out, and Nick is hiding himself away... and Scout would do the same thing, wouldn't she?
The yell from outside snaps him out of his thoughts, and he instinctively raises a hand to Emily's shoulder, holding onto it the way he would when one of the twins would jump. Emily was not like the twins, though, she was infinitely smarter- and probably did not need a helping hand from Zyair. "Ah, excusez**." He murmured, following behind her. He's realizing only now that sending Scout to Casey was probably a bad choice... he expected her to wait at least a little bit longer before trying to put out the flame that was their friend, but he should've known better. They met by fighting, and they still bicker like an old married couple even though they've been 'friends' for a year now. Fighting fire with fire only ended up in burned buildings, Zyair should've known that. But, as selfish as it was, a part of him was a little grateful it was her taking the heat and not him.
Poor Scoutie.
Oh really? What potion?
**Directly just "excuse me", but in this context it's more so "my bad".
i'll come to your side right away, so you just stay there and wait, as you are.
zyair ona'je & scout fu-hai
Let There Be Night
july 10th, 2025 wc: 1300 interacting with: @Emily Shephard @Casey Stone
@Cursa McCoire @Zyair Ona'je
well! a terrifying emotional drop, it's all the pa-pa-para paranoia!Somewhere in Scout's chest, she could feel her heart snap.
Are you cursed, too?
It was hard enough, the situation they were in. She didn't even know Nick, not personally, and she still couldn't believe that he was a werewolf- of all things to be! She knew it was killing Casey, and she knew that, if he had more time to think about what the hell he was saying, he probably wouldn't have said what he did. But that didn't make it easier, not when she still spent mornings crying in front of a mirror, feeling the sharp teeth prodding her tongue!
Are you cursed, too?
She couldn't focus on anything else Casey was saying, everything else he said or did slipped from her head. She could feel tears billowing in her eyes, but they died before they fell to her cheeks. She had quite a bit of practice at hiding her emotions, she had been called much, much worse things back in primary school, and she had a way of pressing cold hands to her eyes to dull the swelling before she had dinner with her parents. Her face felt strangely empty, the body underneath her skin felt empty, too.
Scout, you're a disgusting, cursed monster.
And then the rage came, and she was twelve, casting an angry jinx at Casey after he was being too much of a dick. She was ten, punching a tree in her backyard because she couldn't do it to the girls who made fun of her skin or the way she talked, or the way she looked. She's six, screaming at the top of her lungs after she accidentally bit her lips so hard they cut open, trying to pull out the dhampir teeth that had just grown in.
It burned across her face, and it stilled in her mouth, in her fingers. When did her teeth start to feel so sharp, and when did her claws become so strong that the skin broke as Scout balled her fists? Oh, all she wanted to do was storm across the grass and show Casey just how cursed she could be. He wanted a fantasy of Scout being a werewolf? Go on, Scout, show him just how much more pain you could cause just as yourself.
The voices in her head egged her on, just like they always did. They'd whisper cruel things to her when she was looking at herself in the mirror in the bathrooms, about how her hair and tie were just another way to show who she truly was. How she was a bloodthirsty monster- why could nobody else see just how cursed she was? How did it take so long for Casey to see what she truly was, a monster? Her teeth could tear him apart easily, her claws would do far more than just a simple jinx. She could kill him right now, even if he was physically stronger than her, even if Zyair, or Cursa, or Emily tried to pull her away- does he even know who he's talking to?!
Before she can calm herself, she feels like she's not in her own body. She can see Casey, she can feel her hands curling around his shoulders, pulling him i couldn't figure out how to word what she's doing, she's like pulling him backwards onto his back???? but she's also sort of pushing him because he's already on his knees??? i just needed to explain that the position leaves him on the ground and her standing/kneeling over him! im sorry to break the immersion ill go away now! to the ground with a strength she was not entirely sure she possessed. Only a horrible monster would hurt someone they cared about like this. She wants to bite, to snap, to let anger consume her as it so often did. For the first time in her life- Scout finally, finally bites...- what?
But... no, Scout, you're a monster! Why are you gaining a conscience now? Don't you get it? You're cursed and all you do is bite and hurt people- that's all you're good for. You can't realize your mistakes, you can't learn. You're...
Scout finds herself staring at Casey, no, she didn't bite him. For moments that were longer than fleeting, she wanted to, but Scout didn't have it in her to actually do that to him, regardless of how angry his comments made her. Regardless of how much she felt rage dance through her muscles and bones, Scout seldom really did fight unless she felt it was necessary. Casey probably wouldn't believe that, not when she had now gone two-for-two on jinxing him and now physically pushing him to the ground... but did that really matter?
"I'm not a werewolf, dumbass, I'm a dhampir. Vampire. And I'm not some horrible cursed thing." She finally muttered, but it was unlikely she believed what she was saying. "And even if I was, you don't talk to me- or anyone- like that. I know you're angry, but don't you even pretend that I don't understand. I know what it's like to find out there's something horrible deep inside someone you know, because, guess what? I make that realization every day." Like Casey had done to her before, she refused to break the angry eye contact with him. Despite how angry she still felt, there was no strength in her body. But there was enough to keep her mouth running, feeding wood on a fire. "And I think you're an awfully selfish prick to think like that, I thought you cared about Nick- you know what? No, fuck it, I thought you cared about me! But if you lose all faith in someone just because they're not some perfect little human, do you think that makes you better? Mind you, you're far from flawed.
"And god, can you imagine how I feel? Can you imagine how Nick feels? Do you think I want to live my life like this? Do you think I don't spend every second of my life agonizing over how I feel? Over how much of a horrible monster I think I am? Look at my teeth, look at my claws! How many seconds can I spend pretending that I don't see what I truly am in the mirror? Whatever that number is, it gets cut in half when idiots like you go around and call someone you care about a monster!"
The words spill out of Scout's mouth before she can filter and stop them, the tears she narrowly kept in before spill out over her cheeks and to her hands, where they mix with the little red spots from when she had accidentally pricked her hands with her nails. She feels, above all else, hurt. Why couldn't Casey just keep his stupid feelings to his stupid self? Why couldn't it just be him that had to suffer? Now here she was, telling the biggest secret she knew because she was too hurt. Besides, there was no way she could just walk away from what he was saying! Stupid Cursa and his stupid little wolf comments, ugh, she was starting to have a distaste for him she only had for Colin!
After a few more seconds, when really all the adrenaline had left her body, she leaned back on her legs and sighed. "I'm sorry." She finally murmured. "I didn't mean to snap at you... ah, maybe a little. But it really hurts, I've dealt with this for a long time, and I know what it's like to be hated for something you can't change about yourself. I used to think that if I prayed enough, or if I ignored it enough, I wouldn't be a vampire anymore. I'm sure your brother's thought like that, too. If given a choice, I wouldn't pick to be a dhampir, and I know Nick wouldn't choose to be a werewolf. But that's just what happens sometimes... And I can tell Nick loves you so much, so even if you hate me and think I'm a monster, you can't let that thought process extend to him. It's not fair for you, but it's really not fair to him."
She blinked a few times, realizing that Emily and Zyair had now shown up. The cavalry! Scout feels her teeth retract into her gums, but she still can't find it in herself to face either of them, so her eyes stay locked onto where Casey's shirt ends and the ground begins. She doesn't feel good.
don't look at me; you can't understand, right? i'm just like a monstrous flower that bloomed too soon
scout fu-hai & zyair ona'je