The Cold Plunge PV: Maisie

Maisie sometimes took the long way around to her classes if she had time. She enjoyed the way the staircases changed and demanded new routes; it was the closest thing she could get to the city. And even though she'd been here a year now, she still ached at times for the way that Glasgow's alleyways protected and comforted her.

Eventually, however, the castle would open up onto the viaduct, which was a place she liked generally. She recalled being caught up in that impromptu broom race, which had gone well even with Pierre speeding off ahead of a bunch of younger years. The wind tangled with the hairs around her face, but her signature plait kept most of it in check.

There didn't seem to be many people around, except a blonde girl flying fast. Maisie didn't think very much about it. In her mind, people could fly wherever they wished as long as it wasn't hurting anyone else. And from what she could see in her peripheral vision, the girl seemed to have command enough of the broom.

So, she paid her no mind. Instead, she tried to recall the exact movements Mylo had told her about the other day. She was hoping to meet with them after classes to revise on duelling technique per usual. Wand in her right hand, she tried to mimic them in a small way without saying any incantations. Until— 

Merlin!

There in the corner of her sight, the girl was falling, tumbling down and down and fast. Turning her head, she could see the broom above had gotten stuck somehow. Suddenly everything they had been practicing went out of her head. It was all silly, all just for a stupid game on the block, all to hurt people and send people to hospital rather than help them. Wait, wait.

"Accio Broom!" she cast pointing the wand up at the broom, hoping to bring it down towards her. There were probably better spells—Arresto Momentum came to mind—but it was too late. The broom was on its way. "Grab it as it passes you!" she instructed the girl as she grit her teeth hoping this would work.

And she watched this unfold with nothing but a hope and a prayer, she realized that girl with her blonde curls and brown eyes looked a hell of a lot like Alyss Gilmour.

Well, shit.

@Alyss Gilmour

Banner credit to: Clément Guillaume Cantegrel

September 15th, 2025	The Viaduct
“English”	“Gaelic”

She was falling. It took a moment for this fact to register in her mind, as the cool air rushed past her, rather similar to flying itself. However, in flying, you maintain control. You decide which direction you go, and how quickly you do so. Falling felt so… powerless. This was something Alyss despised as it was. Not having control was fun when it was small, such as the breakfast options for that day, or a friend’s birthday party without proper details in place. This was far different, with Alyss plummeting and feeling utterly helpless.

That was until she heard it. Her savior. The voice sounded familiar? The sound turned over in her brain much too quickly to properly register who may have spoken. She instead focused on the words. "Grab it as it passes you!" This came along with a spell, one that was slightly advanced for her year, but a rather important one. Accio. This was a spell Alyss had contemplated learning recently, in order to step up her game as a racer. The thought was far behind her now, with the world seeming to shrink. It was just her and the broom now.

Alyss continued to fall at what felt like impossible speeds, but the broom had been summoned and was going far faster. The space around her narrowed, and her eyes locked onto the incoming broom. Just her, and the broom. Her and the broom. The thought echoed in her head once more, the whole situation enough to bring her to tears had she been in the wrong state of mind. But at the moment she was pumped with adrenaline, and it may be what kept her alive. As the broom came closer and closer, Alyss stretched out her arms to attempt to snag it midair, to save herself. And—

Thank Merlin—

She breathed a sigh of relief as her hand closed around the solid wood of the broom, pulling the rest of her body with it. She was safe, so long as she didn’t let go of this damned thing until solid ground was beneath her feet. Thankfully, this happened rather quickly, given the broom had been summoned. It zipped over to the caster, and Alyss stepped onto the solid, hard, and thankfully-not-air floor of the viaduct.

“Thank you—” Alyss blurted, barely maintaining her composure. “—You just saved my damn life.” This was said with a mix of gratitude and horror, clearly still processing these events. This is why it took her another moment to match face to name and event, and for the voice to finally click. Maisie Gemmell was just a fantastic spellcaster, and she had to prove it once more. Spectacular.

“You? You saved me. Thanks.” Alyss said again, this time with much less gratitude and more confusion and a slight hint of spite. “I’ll be more careful on my broom, if that’s your concern. I appreciate the help, I suppose.” Yeah, she definitely seemed a little put off by the whole situation. Not in an oh-god-I-almost-died way, but in a why-did-she-have-to-save-me?

You see, Maisie and Alyss had a rather strange relationship. They had seen each other in passing, and Alyss had stayed as far away as possible, ever since Maisie had KO’d her on the dueling piste. If you asked Alyss, it was because Maisie had been far too smug, too happy to cast Alyss into unconsciousness during a friendly (or not so friendly) duel. She didn’t need to mingle with someone like that. And no, it had nothing to do with despising a loss, why would you ever think that?

This was why the arrival of the brunette had been rather unusual. She thought they’d had a silent agreement to ignore the others existence. So how on earth was one of their first interactions since then Maisie literally saving Alyss’ life? It was as though Alyss was weak whenever the Ravenclaw was around, which was a fact that the snake loathed.

Broom: Nimbus 1700
Stats: sta 7 • eva 8 • str 4 • wis 7 • arc 7 • acc 7
Broom Stats: sta 7 • eva 8 9 • str 4 5 • wis 7 8 • arc 7 • acc 7 9

The lurch in her stomach had to be audible.

Or at least, she thought it was.

The truth was she didn't dislike Alyss Gilmour. She just didn't understand why every conversation was so very awkward ever since that initial meeting at that duel. Yes, she'd knocked out Alyss—perhaps the only person she'd ever knocked out—but it was a long time ago and in the context of a single friendly (and importantly, evenly-matched) duel. She'd never so much as deliberately harmed a hair on the golden girl's head.

In fact, as Alyss just admitted, she'd just "saved her damn life." Her eyes were wide in disbelief at first. Her casting had a tendency to not go well in high pressure situations and she knew there were more opportune spells in a situation like this. It just happened to be top of mind because she'd been practicing. And somehow, against all odds, it had pulled through: beautifully cast and Alyss had taken advantage with ease. Her brown eyes fell down towards her wand with relief as silence seemed to usher in the reality of what had just transpired.

“You?"

She swallowed and nodded. Somehow, it seemed better to let Alyss take a minute to get herself reoriented to the ground beneath her feet. And yet, that produced this: “I’ll be more careful on my broom, if that’s your concern. I appreciate the help, I suppose.”

"Oh," she started, disappointed at the stark shift in tone. Was this ever going to go away? Clearing her throat, she added, "It's no trouble. I know you're more than careful on your broom. You're a captain. I guess, we can all make mistakes, right?" Because, yeah, two straight losses with more on the way was a mistake. Spreading the fire in the common room was a mistake. Alyss Gilmour was a bloody captain and a prefect, and Maisie...well, all Maisie had was volumes of fabric and cutting sheers to her name. She looked across at the blonde with both jealousy and admiration.

"I'll just, eh—" she bit her lip, "I'll just go." There seemed to be little point from the way Alyss just brushed her off. The room in Potions class would be warmer than the tenor out here. So, she put her wand back in the pocket of her robes and turned on her heel to start to cross the viaduct and leave Alyss Gilmour to her peace. (If she even had any; she always seemed so clammed up when they met.)

She got maybe ten paces away from her, when it occurred to her that she might never a space with the Slytherin alone again. After all, it was a big school with a lot of people, and they'd done a fairly good job of avoiding each other up until now. This might be the only opportunity to address, well, whatever this was.

She stopped.

Turning as the wind howled, she racked her brain in those few seconds for the way to try to address it. An apology didn't seem right because she hadn't done anything. And a question seemed almost too prying considering how Alyss had addressed her before. So, with a shrug of her shoulders, she settled on, "I don't hate you, you know." The precious seconds that would follow to see if this would have any effect at all were the most painstaking—like waiting for new fabric in the post. And if it didn't, well, at least she tried to find a pattern in all of it.

@Alyss Gilmour

Banner credit to: Clément Guillaume Cantegrel

September 15th, 2025	The Viaduct
“English”	“Gaelic”

The emptiness you feel, right before crying? The silence, that simply feels…unnerving? This is always followed by motion. By sobs, by clanging. That silence, that emptiness, seemed to hang in the air between Alyss and Maisie. Neither of them were controlling it. It just…hung there, like a suffocating blanket, and thin tightrope just moments away from snapping. They danced around it, worrying it would snap, that the silence would be broken, followed by inevitable noise. That was why Alyss had given the brunette a way out. The open door to simply leave the conversation, as though everything was alright.

Except nothing was alright, and clearly Alyss wasn’t the only one bogged down by pretending, by putting on a mask and tiptoeing into the next room.

“I guess, we can all make mistakes, right?” The words were spoken as if it were a proper consolation. As if it was alright for Alyss and Maisie to continue like this, ignoring the fact that Alyss very well could have died at the ripe old age of twelve. No matter how you looked at it, Alyss’ life has just been saved. Is it likely that she would have figured something out, or a professor would have seen her and somehow managed to save her? Yes, of course. But at the moment, the only words that entered Alyss’ mind were cold ones, sharp as a thorn. “Yeah, no one is perfect. Except for maybe you.”

Perhaps others would have seen it as a compliment. But Alyss knew that Maisie would take it as intended; a thinly veiled insult. To what? Alyss wasn’t quite sure. But their relationship was a series of fine lines, one of which may have been crossed by the mere fact that Maisie had been the one to come to her rescue. Her knight in shining armor, the one to save her from nearly certain doom… was the very Ravenclaw Alyss just couldn’t puzzle out.

She remained silent as Maisie began to step away, thoughts running rampant in her mind. Should she stop her? Grab her wrist and apologize? Or was it too late, the damage done? Did it even matter? The two simply had personalities that mixed about as well as oil and water. It was unfortunate, perhaps Maisie was a kind person, deep down. But there was also anger, underneath. Why would Alyss apologize? Act as though she was in the wrong? She was tired of acting, of pretending. So she let her go.

Until the brunette turned, and her entire world shattered in a few words. “I don't hate you, you know.”

“What?”

The word was blurted out, no thought put into the question. That was out of the question. Obviously, Maisie hated her. Why else would she KO her during the duel, when Saunders was the one she’d had issues with? Why would they dance around each other, dread filling each of Alyss’ joints upon spotting the girl? That simply couldn’t be the truth. And yet…what did Maisie stand to gain from lying about that? Alyss paused a moment, allowing her mind to absorb the information, and attempt to turn it over in her mind. “What do you mean?” She spoke softly, nearly a whisper, confusion and shock evident. There was no doubt that the girl was being genuine. She didn’t attempt to sound formal, combative, or even polite. She was just a twelve year old trying not to make enemies.

Broom: Nimbus 1700
Stats: sta 7 • eva 8 • str 4 • wis 7 • arc 7 • acc 7
Broom Stats: sta 7 • eva 8 9 • str 4 5 • wis 7 8 • arc 7 • acc 7 9

Reducio

Pings: @Maisie Gemmell
Rolls: n/a
Notes:

She wanted to believe this was a 'no a harm, no foul' approach. And yet the waiting was excruciating as the seconds felt distinctly longer than in Transfiguration class—and that was the worst. Her heels seemed to do the opposite to dig into the ground as she felt, instead, a pull to leave—especially after Alyss had suggested she was 'perfect,' which was perhaps the most preposterous thing yet. "What are you talking about?" she let out softly, confused. To Maisie, it was extremely obvious she could have been called any number of names, but 'perfect' was not one of them. In fact, Alyss surely knew that—the whole school knew that. She glanced down at her aspen wand disappointed in herself, and shuffled her feet slightly.

But in a few seconds, it became very clear she was not the only one that was confused. The way Alyss just let the question settle into the air like a dense fog seemed completely genuine. Perhaps it was the only moment she felt like she could actually read how the Slytherin felt: that deep blank uncertainty. All this time, it had just felt so strange.

Her jawline extended slightly to try to answer, but she wasn't sure exactly what to say because she hadn't planned any of this. It would have been so much easier to just walk away. She could still do that, couldn't she? She looked across the viaduct for good measure.

"I mean," she started with a slight hesitation as she tried to figure out the words, "I don't have a problem with you." She debated if she should tact on 'if you don't have one with me,' but thought better of it. Alyss seemed strong-willed—like her—even this had caught her of-guard. "I don't really know you, but you don't seem like a complete eejit. I mean, Captain and Prefect. You were a good duellist that one time. And you've never made fun of me or anything. So, I don't know, but if you wanted to trade chocolate frogs or something one time, I wouldn't mind," she continued. It might have come across as a kind of word vomit—in which case, Alyss was free to leave—but it was as honest as it was lengthy.

She didn't expect to leave this encounter friends, but something beyond this awkwardness would be a great start. After all, she did kind of admire Alyss in a way. She wasn't a mess like Maisie was—she wasn't a loser. And unlike Costanza, Alyss had never made her feel like shit on the piste. In fact, Maisie had felt guilty when Alyss had gone down—the first and only time she'd ever KO'd someone. Alyss seemed like she had sports(wo)manship. Not to mention all this avoidance was exhausting.

Biting her lip, she'd wait.

And maybe, if it all went terribly, the bridge would open up and swallow her whole. There was a spell for that, right?

For the one and only @Alyss Gilmour

Banner credit to: Clément Guillaume Cantegrel

September 15th, 2025	The Viaduct
“English”	“Gaelic”

Alyss could be labeled as an emotional person. There were moments in which she felt as though rather than ruling her emotions, they were ruling her. This came in breakdowns, in sudden reactions, even in situations in which it would be more beneficial to stay quiet, and maintain a neutral stance. But that just wouldn’t be Alyss of her. The Slytherin very rarely considered her actions prior to actually acting, and instead just…went with it. Structure was only beneficial to Alyss as long as she preferred it, as long as it didn’t bore her. When she felt strong emotions, she didn’t consider the possibility of maintaining a stony expression, only letting it crack later. No, Alyss would let it go immediately.

That said, she was also rather confident, even arrogant at time. She had to be right. So when Maisie looked so uncertain and confused at being called perfect, Alyss scoffed. Perhaps she’d had some bad luck on the dueling piste, but from what she heard, it had always been to more experienced opponents. Maisie had been fantastic in their mock duel, and as far as Alyss knew was responsible and maintained good grades. Why would this perception be a surprise? “Oh, c’mon. You seem sensible, quick on your feet, and smart. Don’t act so clueless.” She blurted, morphing her face into a duh expression.

It was then that Maisie began to answer, and Alyss once again felt as though nearly an entire school year had been a lie. Why wouldn’t Maisie have a problem with her? Alyss had seemingly taken Saunders side in whatever disagreement the two had been having, and that would understandably get on Maisie’s nerves. Alyss maintained her firm stance, as though the girl in front of her hadn’t just saved her life. These words could mean the continuation of their standoff or the end.

"I don't really know you, but you don't seem like a complete eejit. I mean, Captain and Prefect. You were a good duellist that one time. And you've never made fun of me or anything. So, I don't know, but if you wanted to trade chocolate frogs or something one time, I wouldn't mind,"

“Thank…you.” Alyss paused to briefly consider her own thoughts, which seemed to be going multiple miles a minute.

“I suppose I don’t necessarily hate you either.” Alyss gave in, nodding to the Ravenclaw. She acknowledged their connection. They were clearly both competent members of society, which was better than some others their age. Alyss’ transfiguration grade may not have been the most reflective of that, but it was true. She hoped. She considered herself a contributor to society, being Broom Racing Co-Captain, Headliner Writer, and Prefect. Though she wasn’t actually sure how she’d gotten any of those positions. One of the very reasons she held her head so high was because of these responsibilities. She was trusted, was shown to be consistent, and generally kind. That was, unless the person in question had KO’d her during a duel. Then, she might be less kind, or forgiving.

“Actually…it still stings that you KO’d me in that one duel. Your beef was with Saunders, so why was I the one sent to the hospital wing?” She questioned, eyes narrowing. Maisie’s response would determine how Alyss would continue—after all, she was being incredibly truthful. Alyss held grudges, which was something she didn’t necessarily speak about on a regular basis. However, this felt justified. All of her grudges did.

Alyss? Well, she was just a victim. Right?

Broom: Nimbus 1700
Stats: sta 7 • eva 8 • str 4 • wis 7 • arc 7 • acc 7
Broom Stats: sta 7 • eva 8 9 • str 4 5 • wis 7 8 • arc 7 • acc 7 9

Reducio

Pings: @Maisie Gemmell
Rolls: n/a
Notes:

“Oh, c’mon," the Slytherin had said, unbelieving. Perhaps this was not the first sign that this was not going to go well as Alyss rattled off compliments that felt anything but. "Whatever," Maisie replied with a shrug, wondering if any of this was getting through to her. Maybe that initial instinct to run had, in fact, been the right one however hopeful she'd been.

And yet: “I suppose I don’t necessarily hate you either.” Maisie's eyes widened as she focused on the blonde, taking in her her composure and even the way she stood. Was there some gentle flick of a hand or a fleeting glance that suggested a lie? In truth, Maisie probably wouldn't even have been able to detect that. But an outcome remotely civil seemed, for the faintest second, unlikely. Yet, from the way Alyss spoke, she did seem genuine in her words.

More so when the question emerged: "Why was I the one sent to the hospital wing?” Her brow furrowed for a moment. Was that what this was about? One spell in a fake duel over a year ago? Maisie shook her head as she tried to recall the exact events. "That's true about Saunders, but you were a team. You weakening a team member weakens..." she trailed off. There wasn't much point, she mused, to explaining what duelling strategy was to Alyss because up there on the piste, strategy didn't seem to matter. Strategy had failed her time and time again. And whatever this was, it wasn't about that.

So, instead, she paused for a moment and looked out across the viaduct, twirling her wand in her hand. "The thing they don't tell you about duelling," she began, "is that duelling is about pain. It's not about fancy spells, sportsmanship, strategy, or teamwork. It's not even about being good. Duelling is about striking again and again until someone is all alone on that stage, stripped mentally and physically until only their sheer will is left. That's all they have. And if you really want to be good at it, you taunt them and insult them so they know exactly how much they don't deserve to be up there. They know exactly how much pain is involved in pretending they're actually worth anything at all." She raised her hand and let her fingers wipe a small tear from her eye as she tried to stand her ground and not think about all the times—every time—that had happened to her. "So, whether you think it was wrong or not, the truth is, you're the only person I've managed to spare that fate—even if it was by accident."

She let a beat pass, not wanting to particularly linger on the idea as Costanza's words hung in the back of her mind darker and bigger than anything Alyss Gilmour had ever said or done. But maybe the Slytherin had a different take and still would despite everything that just transpired. Maisie just had to accept that was okay. She could go on pretending to ignore Alyss if that was what the Slytherin wanted. But she'd made an effort and was glad of it as she offered her a light smile.

"You should get back to practicing flying," she said softly as she gestured to the Captain's broom, "You're good at it." And that at least made one of them.

For the incomparable @Alyss Gilmour

Banner credit to: Clément Guillaume Cantegrel

September 15th, 2025	The Viaduct
“English”	“Gaelic”

One thing that Alyss hated was silence. Silence meant so many and so little all at once. While it meant tension, uncertainty, and anxiety, it also meant the words that hadn’t been spoken aloud. The two second years had ceased their back and forth for but a moment, and Alyss could barely stand it as all she heard was the drum-like sound her heart was making as it thumped inside of her chest. Her breathing, which she fought to steady, was still an inconsistent rhythm. Alyss was holding onto every movement, every breath of the girl that stood across from her.

Maisie had shaken her head before her spoke, as if to clear her mind. Or to convey that she believed Alyss’ reasoning to be idiotic? The Slytherin would never know. Because once Maisie began talking, it was like poetry. It just flowed. Duelling was very clearly something that had wronged the Ravenclaw, with the way she was talking about her spot on the piste.

“…duelling is about pain. It's not about fancy spells, sportsmanship, strategy, or teamwork. It's not even about being good. Duelling is about striking again and again until someone is all alone on that stage, stripped mentally and physically until only their sheer will is left.”

Alyss was stunned, for a moment. Duelling was artistry, was it not? Casting again and again, practicing for hours in order to get one’s aim the sharpest it could be. Racing was very much the same—you would cast and duck and weave, using every fiber of your being to maintain control over the match—something that could very well slip away in an instant.

“…you're the only person I've managed to spare that fate—even if it was by accident.”

Words just escaped her mouth, before her mind could even catch up and promptly inform it well that was a stupid thing to say. “What kind of outlook is that?” Alyss’ words seemed to even surprise herself, with the slight widening of her eyes and twitch of her mouth carefully hidden as she continued. “I’m…I’m sorry that has been your experience. But casting, and duelling by extension is far more than attempting to lay your opponent out bare. It’s a performance. Of everything… wizard.” She seemed to be arguing with herself for a moment, spluttering over her own words. “I- How- What- Are…Are you okay?” She finally strung together. “What…What happened to you?”

What- no. Who ruined something to quintessentially magical about being a wizard? Why was someone her very own age, merely twelve? Thirteen? Spouting words about the cruelty of Duelling? “I don’t hate you.” She said firmly now, eyes narrowing at the brunette strands of hair on Maisie’s head that seemed to be battling the wind as it blew yet another strong gust their way, causing Alyss to brace herself against the gale.

“I hope that’s okay. I hope you’re okay with that.” Alyss said after another pause. The silence was still something she struggled with, a void she wanted to fill at every opportunity. She just hoped she was doing alright.

“You should get back to practicing flying, you’re good at it.”

With those words, Alyss’ eyes brightened. “I can teach you, if you’d like.” she offered, hope again present on her face. Alyss wore many of her emotions on her sleeve, and this was no different. “Maybe not right now, seeing as…” She gestured at the air around them, vaguely hinting at the wind. “But maybe that can get you excited about a sport. Maybe Duelling isn’t for you, Maisie.”

Broom: Nimbus 1700
Stats: sta 7 • eva 8 • str 4 • wis 7 • arc 7 • acc 7
Broom Stats: sta 7 • eva 8 9 • str 4 5 • wis 7 8 • arc 7 • acc 7 9

Reducio

Pings: @Maisie Gemmell
Rolls: n/a
Notes: AHH your reply was wonderful, I hope this one was worth the wait

Alyss Gilmour was silent. If Maisie hadn't been so busy speaking her cold, hard truth, it would have struck her as odd. But as it was, the Slytherin simply let her ramble, putting out a philosophy few acknowledge or, if they did, few gained to speak out into the world. But her words and the knot in her chest just seemed to grow and grow like the bark of a tree that protected her from the very real hurt and vulnerability on the piste. And when it was over, she knew there was only one thing to do: leave. Then the Slytherin across the way could get back to actual athletics and talent.

But she prevented her from leaving with perplexed words: “What kind of outlook is that?”

"The...truth?" Maisie said, wondering how this could be anything but that. The moments she'd spent talking had been very raw and real—just as her experience had been. Moreover, she had no reason to lie to Alyss, and Maisie had always leaned towards the truth anyway. Maybe there had been a few lies of omission in order to ensure various plans she and Avis had had to make-Mylo-fun had gone off without a hitch, but those were noble pursuits. So, on the whole, the journalist's daughter bent towards honesty.

What followed on the bridge was series of questions really as Alyss looked at her like she was some kind of broken doll. She pursed her lips slightly as questions over her well-being passed through the air. Growing up a Gemmell meant you didn't have everything, but you also didn't want hand-outs. So, she let most of that—genuine or otherwise—pass. But the statement of how wizardly everything was caught her attention. "Being a wizard or a witch isn't automatically something great. Magic doesn't solve problems. People solve problems," she replied, once again leaning on the truths she had learned growing up in a modest home with good intentions.

As the wind ran across the bridge once more, Alyss reiterated, “I don’t hate you.” Maisie just nodded. If they could leave having agreed on that, well, that was something.

She was about to turn on her heel to get on her way when a strange offer came her way: “I can teach you, if you’d like.” And she paused, eyebrows raised. That was the last thing she ever expected to hear from someone who ten minutes ago she thought hated her guts. "You..." she paused in her surprise as she tried to figure out how she felt about it, "We said we don't hate each other, but...I don't want you to teach me because you feel bad for me or something."

A beat.

And words left unsaid: but I would take your offer in friendship.

Raising a hand as if to wave good-bye, there was one more card that had yet to be played: "Maybe Duelling isn’t for you, Maisie."

Hand in mid air, heel raised, and with a surprised expression, Maisie froze. It was an option she hadn't considered at all. Coach would be furious. Aislin would be disappointed. And her two friends on the team, Addie and Robin, would be devastated. But it might make the team better if they got someone good. And maybe she might suck less at something else. Her brown eyes drifted towards the broom Alyss Gilmour held steady in her hand as she wondered what might be possible.

She turn her head back towards the castle, pensieve, and back towards the Slytherin. Taking a step forward, she said, "I have a condition: you can't tell anyone you're teaching me, and you really can't tell anyone if I suck, okay?" As she drew a long breath and waited, she wondered if she was bargaining with the devil in the pursuit of a clearly noble omission. And yet, the past few moments had been so deeply unexpected, the risk felt justified.

For the one and only @Alyss Gilmour