2 Mar 2020, 22:45
Liberation: Tracking Vladimir
Permission acquired from @Vladimir Athanatos, @Jo Morgan, and @Rafael D'Spacito to assume their presence in the scene.
"I'm looking for a Vladimir. Have you seen him? His name is in this notebook...."
The line was fed to a few fellow Ravenclaws. It wasn't a lie, mind: the name was in the notebook Pericles presented, a high-grade little black book with his House's crest on the front. What he did not explain was the fact that the name was under a series of notes pertaining to the late Dolores Umbridge's murder. He had a name, and only a name, but with the help of his Housemates the fledgling investigator would make ends meet.
"Thank you! I'll check the library straight away. What does he look like?
I want to be sure I take this to the right person."
If this student had truly witnessed the murder of Umbridge, his account could yield crucial evidence for the Liberation party's efforts. Of course, if there was one piece of information Pericles' Auror father had tried to instill in him, it was not to confront potentially dangerous wizards without either a strong contingency plan, or a group of accomplices. Upon hearing Vladimir had just been spotted in the library nearly fifteen minutes prior, he hastily sent word to Jo and Rafael, whose investigative prowess he had witnessed firsthand. The trio came up with a hasty plan: they would pretend to study in the library, either listening in on the conversation or lingering on standby, ready to intervene on the off-chance things went truly, terribly wrong. So as not to make Vladimir feel cornered or overwhelmed, innocent first-year Pericles would be the one to approach his fellow eagle. It was a solid scheme- yet only fate could tell if the execution would yield the results they imagined.
"Excuse me?"
Peri approached the third-year with notebook tucked under his arm, wearing his trademark in-the-clouds smile, a sweet and sleepy expression. He wasted no time. "You're from my House! Maybe you could help me? I'm looking for information on that woman from the papers: Dolores Umbridge."
{ 𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔞 𝔟𝔬𝔶: 𝔞 𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢, 𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔟𝔬𝔶. 𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔰𝔞𝔶 𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔣𝔞𝔯 𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔢𝔞. }
(iNPC: Madhup Hexum)
3 Mar 2020, 20:57
Liberation: Tracking Vladimir
@Pericles Dralt@Jo Morgan@Vladimir Athanatos
[font=Segoe Print]Today was an important day.
Well, perhaps it wasn’t that important to most wandering the halls of the grand school – no, the day was rather ordinary, in fact, the classes long and harrowing, and the weather frustratingly average. The sun was shining in the sky, a gentle warmth cascading down from the heavens, piercing the crisp March air like a butter knife. There was just something about the weather, the placement of the clouds, the contrite brightness in the air, that set the young Gryffindor off slightly. He was put off in a way that was hard to describe, his mood ill and his patience thin.
However, that wasn’t to say that the day was lost.
No, on the contrary, something had come up in the boy’s utterly bare schedule, plans that seemed to salvage the day from the clutches of ill-temperance. It went unsaid that, anything related to the Potter incident was a big deal in Rafael’s eyes – Potter was his hero, after all, being one of the youngest to ever join the Quidditch Team, a pioneer in the victories of his house, and a true maverick, willing to face anything and everything in order to defeat evil. It was everything the thunderbird strove to be, the reason he pushed so hard and scraped A’s in his classes. The reason he’d become Captain. Hell, the reason why he took the time out of his day to come to the library at this ungodly hour and eavesdrop like a total creep. The very idea that the man had ever killed such an evil woman – though she may have deserved such a fate – left a pit in the boy’s stomach, a hole in his livelihood that left him dumbstruck and pondering the universe for answers to such an inquiry.
There would be no other reason for him to stride into the library, his robes slightly askew from jogging down the halls as clutched his books haphazardly. He certainly had better things to do, after all, as the next Quidditch Game was looming in the distance, an ominous reminder that he needed to be better than ever. Homework, too – he’d gotten a bit behind on his Transfigurations, enough to warrant a howler from his mother. The boy shuddered at the mere thought – his mother scared him sometimes. Though, he had to shake her sweetly dangerous face out of his head, as he had more important things to worry about at the moment. Like a supposed witness, lurking in the recesses of the library.
His eyes traced the room as he walked, catching several faces, both familiar and alien. There was one, however, that caught his gaze, the very face he had been searching for – Pericles. The boy from the Liberations club, ever-intuitive Ravenclaw. The same that had found a secret message in the Lear-Umbridge love letters. A small smile tugged at the end of his lips in memory, but he quickly squandered it down, steeling his focus once more. It seemed as if he’d approached another student – wait, was that the guy from the candy cart? The Gryffindor’s eyes narrowed in realization. A witness had been so close. Why hadn’t he seen it?
There would be no time to ponder the fact, though, as his stare would begin to grow suspicious prolonged any longer. So, instead of watching their interactions, he turned his eyes towards a nearby table. Perfect. Setting his things down and making himself comfortable, he tuned his ears in to their conversations. He’d even made sure to turn to a specific page in his Charms book, one he’d be able to explain in detail given asked. He would be ready for anything, dutifully taking mental note of everything that they were saying. And, if push turned to shove, he would be willing to use the more difficult methods to get answers out of the boy.
The truth would come one way or another. [/font]
[font=Segoe Print]Today was an important day.
Well, perhaps it wasn’t that important to most wandering the halls of the grand school – no, the day was rather ordinary, in fact, the classes long and harrowing, and the weather frustratingly average. The sun was shining in the sky, a gentle warmth cascading down from the heavens, piercing the crisp March air like a butter knife. There was just something about the weather, the placement of the clouds, the contrite brightness in the air, that set the young Gryffindor off slightly. He was put off in a way that was hard to describe, his mood ill and his patience thin.
However, that wasn’t to say that the day was lost.
No, on the contrary, something had come up in the boy’s utterly bare schedule, plans that seemed to salvage the day from the clutches of ill-temperance. It went unsaid that, anything related to the Potter incident was a big deal in Rafael’s eyes – Potter was his hero, after all, being one of the youngest to ever join the Quidditch Team, a pioneer in the victories of his house, and a true maverick, willing to face anything and everything in order to defeat evil. It was everything the thunderbird strove to be, the reason he pushed so hard and scraped A’s in his classes. The reason he’d become Captain. Hell, the reason why he took the time out of his day to come to the library at this ungodly hour and eavesdrop like a total creep. The very idea that the man had ever killed such an evil woman – though she may have deserved such a fate – left a pit in the boy’s stomach, a hole in his livelihood that left him dumbstruck and pondering the universe for answers to such an inquiry.
There would be no other reason for him to stride into the library, his robes slightly askew from jogging down the halls as clutched his books haphazardly. He certainly had better things to do, after all, as the next Quidditch Game was looming in the distance, an ominous reminder that he needed to be better than ever. Homework, too – he’d gotten a bit behind on his Transfigurations, enough to warrant a howler from his mother. The boy shuddered at the mere thought – his mother scared him sometimes. Though, he had to shake her sweetly dangerous face out of his head, as he had more important things to worry about at the moment. Like a supposed witness, lurking in the recesses of the library.
His eyes traced the room as he walked, catching several faces, both familiar and alien. There was one, however, that caught his gaze, the very face he had been searching for – Pericles. The boy from the Liberations club, ever-intuitive Ravenclaw. The same that had found a secret message in the Lear-Umbridge love letters. A small smile tugged at the end of his lips in memory, but he quickly squandered it down, steeling his focus once more. It seemed as if he’d approached another student – wait, was that the guy from the candy cart? The Gryffindor’s eyes narrowed in realization. A witness had been so close. Why hadn’t he seen it?
There would be no time to ponder the fact, though, as his stare would begin to grow suspicious prolonged any longer. So, instead of watching their interactions, he turned his eyes towards a nearby table. Perfect. Setting his things down and making himself comfortable, he tuned his ears in to their conversations. He’d even made sure to turn to a specific page in his Charms book, one he’d be able to explain in detail given asked. He would be ready for anything, dutifully taking mental note of everything that they were saying. And, if push turned to shove, he would be willing to use the more difficult methods to get answers out of the boy.
The truth would come one way or another. [/font]
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.