Secrets PV Closed

@Marion Davenport | @Thora Larkston

Yet again, likely to no one's surprise, Marion denied knowing anything. Bridget looked down at the letter still clutched in her hand, the proof on paper that Marion was lying. She checked one last time to be absolutely sure she'd read it right, which she had. The letters hadn't changed. The meaning hadn't changed. The small girl was still holding confirmation that Marion, despite her continued denial, did have information to share. So what would it take for her to talk?

Movement caught her eye; looking up, Bridget saw Thora striding across the room, her hand finding Marion's shoulder and holding on tight. At least they wouldn't have to worry about the third year escaping. Thora's questioning yielded much better results, at least in terms of how much Marion said. The insult washed right over her head, her focus snagging on Marion's declarations of everything she didn't know. Probably more lies, but... what if she was telling the truth? What if Marion really didn't know anything about the spider attacks? What if they were looking at this all wrong?

Bridget didn't see any reason Marion would lie in what she'd thought would be a confidential owl, so she did know something. But she'd never specified what. Maybe it had nothing to do with spiders. In a school like Hogwarts, it wasn't far-fetched to believe something else had happened and Marion knew about it while most people didn't. Bridget was well aware she was grasping at straws, but it was the only approach short of leveling her wand at Marion and threatening to make her puke slugs she could think of.

"Wait. If you actually don't know anything about the spider attacks, and you claim to know something in your letter... Do you have information about something else entirely?" Asking the question, Bridget wasn't even sure she believed in that for a second. Marion was certainly lying, and she couldn't forget that Marion had been the one to hear noises no one else could hear and then go missing for weeks. She didn't even want it to be true--more than anything, Bridget wanted some sort of closure to the attack that haunted her. Still, it couldn't hurt to ask. This was Marion's last chance.

Action | Questioning Marion some more

The letter thief [@Bridget Collins ] granted his request and read the letter for all to hear. Thomas’ gaze fell squarely upon Marion, evident discomfort left her with a pale complexion. They kept her name out of the paper? His mind began to race. Who’s they? Vlad? “A cover up,” So caught up in his own head, Thomas failed to realize his thoughts now audible.

Thomas’ eyes flickered from @Arlo Reynolds to the brunette requesting an end to their fight, her fierce green eyes displayed abbreviated patience. For the moment, he acknowledged this request, placing the toe stomper in the back of his mind. She [@Thora Larkston ] subsequently saunters over to restrain Marion, who did not offer much in the way of resistance. No ink wells hurled in the direction of the girl who stole her letter, or the other that currently restrained her. Peculiar. Is it my face?

In the brunette’s defense, it was an adroit prediction. Marion has eyed the door consistently throughout this interaction, searching for the opportunity to bolt. This act to restrain offered her peers an opportunity. Discovering her truth fueled every decision by this group of snakes. The million-dollar question was, how far are they willing to go to learn this truth? And how far will Marion go to conceal it?

The girl referred to earlier as Thora, her plead to Marion fell flat, as it appeared to have the opposite effect on the blonde. Some believe animals can sense human emotions, whether anger or joy. This appeared true, the owls scurried in many different directions during Marion’s noisy tirade of denial. Some swooped through the small room, slightly above the Slytherin heads. [Your chance? (;] Their good cop approach was all well and good, now someone needed to play bad cop.

Thomas took carefully slow steps towards the restrained blonde, more than willing to accept this role. He did not yell, but spoke with conviction, just loud enough to be heard over the wind and occasional owl hoots. “You’re unduly influenced by someone, it is obvious.” He was not completely sure, but spoke with the concentration a lawyer would to incriminate. If he did not at least appear to believe in his accusations, she certainly would not. “Is it Vlad? Victor? Who omitted your name from the paper? We won’t tell anyone…” Thomas meant it, he truly believed Marion was merely a pawn here. If willing to provide the truth, he would not personally pursue an ill fate for her.

Thomas halted opposite Marion’s helpless frame, carelessly gazing at the nearby window openings. His questions may not be enough, this bad cop routine required a threat. “How long do you reckon it would take to reach the ground? Fiv--ten seconds?” He motioned to one of the windows behind her, voice assuming a sinister quality. “Long enough to feel regret?” Jesus, Tom. A terrible threat, could Thomas really do something that awful? I guess now would be a good time to say, yes, yes he deserved that ink well.

Interactions: @Marion Davenport

Thora gritted her teeth, trying to maintain her grip on the girl's shoulder as best she could. Thankfully, despite the fact that Marion was trying to twist away and the fact that Thora was pathetically weak, she was able to hold on. Good. Something was going in the right direction. The third year only continued to deny knowing anything about the incident, no matter who asked what. Of course, there was the slim chance that she really had no idea, but judging from the fact that her face had drained of color to become a pasty white when Bridget read aloud the letter she'd managed to steal and her adamant denies, that probably wasn't the case.

They weren't getting anywhere. And clearly, the aggressive boy [Thomas] was doing nothing to help--in fact, he was literally just making everything worse. Was this standoff ideal? No. But what were the implications of whatever idiotic threats he was making? Nobody was throwing anyone else out the window, no matter how bad this got. It'd be a horrifically long fall to the cold ground below, and serious injuries were certain. It wasn't just immoral, but an idea worthy of a murderer.

"Okay, nobody is going out the window." The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them as her steely glare turned to the boy. Merlin, was this kid insane? Did Thora really have to go close the window for some added security? She hoped not.

But when Marion began to speak again and Thora's gaze returned to the girl she was restraining, something caught her eye. Something abnormal. Against the third year's rather fair skin was a patch of something dark. Thora'd never noticed it, but she supposed that with all the thrashing to escape her grip, blonde hair had shifted to reveal it. But what was it? Leaving the others to reason with each other--she knew she could count on Bridget to, but the others were a little more questionable in terms of the capability to get along--she would rise to her tiptoes and peer at the girl's partially exposed neck.

Would she look creepy? Yes, she probably looked like a freak, but if you wanted answers, there were two ways to go. Thora wasn't about to question Marion about her skin in the middle of this, so observation it was.

Action » Inspect the "something dark" on Marion's neck

“Relax, before I punt you off this tower.” Thomas threatened. 

“Ha! I’d like to see you try!” With a mighty leap, the boy would launch into the air, his large feet aimed for the other’s. Thump! “Ow!” Arlo cried out as his foot made contact with solid stone. The impact shot up his leg with a tingle. As he hopped around the spot on one foot, his eyes would remain locked on the taller boy’s, prepared for any retaliation. However, it would seem his attacker’s attention had been drawn elsewhere.

“What does it say then?” Thomas asked Bridget.

As a devilish smile spread across Arlo’s face, he saw his opportunity. Strike again while the enemy was distracted. As irritated as he had been at Bridget’s snatching tendencies, he would have to thank her for the diversion. The little gremlin squinted his eyes, locking in on the larger boy’s feet once more. He bent at the knees, storing up the knee tic energy that would propel him forward. Time to die toes!

“Alright, guys, it would be ideal if we could stop fighting over there.” Thora would call our in a commanding tone.

Arlo froze on the spot as her words caught his ear. As a little flush crossed his cheeks he would quickly stand up straight. His long index finger shot out in Thomas’ direction. “He started it!” The boy attempted to defend himself, even if his argument was a bit immature. However, as Bridget began to read off the letter, the little gremlin couldn’t help but forget his little tiff with Thomas.

His golden eyes would grow wider and wider with each word that was spoken. Had this been a looney cartoon, his face would have slowly transformed into that of a jackass. Embarrassment further deepened his flushed cheeks. Turns out he was sticking up for a damned liar. The whole situation was getting the better of him.

“I don’t anything!” Marion shouted as the interrogation continued.

“Oh hush up, Marion!” Arlo cried out in protest. His embarrassment quickly turning to frustration. “Its all there in writing, your words in case you’ve forgotten! I can’t believe I stuck up for you and you were just lying.” The entirety of his face was now a reddish hue, but he would not be the only one that had reached wits end.

As Marion was outed, it seemed she would snap. Arlo couldn’t help but take a step back as she began to scream at the group. Fortunately for him, the others were a little less timid. Thora would restrain her with a firm grasp, Bridget would chance course and offer a more sensible line of questioning and Thomas would naturally threaten her with murder. 

Arlo snapped his head around to stare at the deranged second year. “Good god man! What the hell is a matter with you.” His eyes would drift back towards the girl. “Look Marion, don’t listen to this idiot. We aren’t going to hurt you, but please just tell us what you know so we can be done with this.” He pleaded.

“Alright, guys, it would be ideal if we could stop fighting over there.” 

@Thora Larkson's voice would call out in a commanding tone from behind Marion. Her voice was loud, not that Marion could escape the sound as she struggled to free herself from the aggressive underclassman. Marion was never particularly powerful, she usually had to ask someone to open her bottles of pop. She rarely brought her textbooks to class, not because she could not be bothered but because they were too cumbersome and heavy for her to lug about this Scottish castle.

@Arlo Reynolds was engaged in his own self-defense.

“He started it!” 

His finger pointed at @Thomas LeStrange, the resident house phallus it would seem. Threatening to hurt the little guy like some sort of monster. 

Bridget would ignore Marion's protests and read the letter out loud. It was not well written, despite being neatly penned. 

“I don’t anything!”

“Oh hush up, Marion!” 

Even Arlo was against the girl now. 

“Its all there in writing, your words in case you’ve forgotten! I can’t believe I stuck up for you and you were just lying.” 

"I don't know! I am trying to get away from all of you. You're all crazy! I did not know that you were going to be attacked by anything! I did not know that you would find me here! I didn't know that you could not hear the noises I heard until you said something! And finally, I did not open the door like a crazy person!"

“A cover up.”

Thomas announced. Bridget Collins had finished reading, the 'incriminating' letter. "That's not it," she protested. It was not exactly a cover-up. It was more an omission of information. They did not seem to believe her. In fact, from Thomas' choice word, it was even worse.

He was approaching her.

“You’re unduly influenced by someone, it is obvious.”

She tried to step back, but Thora was behind her.

“Is it Vlad? Victor? Who omitted your name from the paper? We won’t tell anyone…”

"None of your damn business," she snapped but her voice quavered. It lacked conviction. She was filled with fear. 



“Good god man! What the hell is a matter with you.” 


Arlo verbally condemned Thomas.

"Okay, nobody is going out the window."

Thora remarked but did not release her. Marion would look up and eye the hooting owls whose roost was being disturbed by this scuffle. She was cornered, restrained and just threatened after her personal property was taken and the private contents divulged. She had no reason to trust them. Her jaw quivered. There was this oppressive weight that accompanied this sense of helplessness. 

“Look Marion, don’t listen to this idiot. We aren’t going to hurt you, but please just tell us what you know so we can be done with this.” 

'We' was not necessary. Not by the letter of what he said. Just the one. Just the him. Yes, it made the rest of them complicit. It made Thora an accomplice for restraining her. However by the virtue of the stated word he was not a liar. It was almost crude. She sniffed, the sound was moist. She was crying. 

Thora had not relinquished her grip on the girl, in fact she shifted her presence. Through the jacket and thick sweater Marion was wearing Thora would feel an incredible chill. Her eyes set on the base of her neck. There was a strange mark, it looked like she had a tattoo on the back of her neck. It was a strange symbol that had a symmetry to it.

It was clean, the mark incredibly dark. There was no inflammation. It was not very old, but Marion was not an old woman. However, if it was a conventional tattoo, it was not fresh - there was no inflammation. 

"Wait. If you actually don't know anything about the spider attacks, and you claim to know something in your letter... Do you have information about something else entirely?"

"It's none of your business," Marion was crying. "I didn't do anything wrong, I was just there when it happened!" She let out a cough as if she swallowed her spit the wrong way. "Someone died, but everyone was more concerned with liking someone or disliking someone else. I couldn't..." no that was the wrong word "wouldn't stay quiet!" But she regretted that now. She should have looked the other way. Forgot what she saw. Ignored her conscience that screamed in the back of her head. Was it really worth bringing a killer to justice if it made three people suffer? 

"But that was never your business!" Her was red in the face, she looked harried. Agitated. On her last nerve. That would be why nobody, less perhaps one, would have expected. She would reach up, attempt to grab one of those frenzied owls who were just as ruffled as she was.

Attempt to grab owl: 3 (Miss)

All she got was a handful of feathers but it did not deter her from her present mission. She had intended to smack him with an owl, she had a feeling she would just hurt her hand on his smug face. Owless, so unarmed but still restrained she attempted to punch the sociopath. 

Attack: 8
Evasion: 20

It would have felt good to throw an owl in his face. To connect in some way. To let the likely pure-bloodded elitist bully (she did not know his blood status) know that the world did not revolve around him and that not everything was his. Between the tears in her eyes, Thora's physical prevention and Thomas' apparent acrobatic agility, she missed. She was not even close. It was a humiliating defeat. 

So maybe the boy jumped from 1-10 on the threat scale. Still, Thomas could not fathom the reaction he received from his fellow Slytherins. They were all Slytherins, they were supposed to be sly, cunning. Of course, he did not truly intend to hurl the girl out the window…at least, he didn’t think he did? Those acting classes in the third grade are really paying dividends. Or, was this trend all part of a pattern? That Thomas was in fact losing touch with morality.

The realization his threats warranted no remorse prompted a conflicted stare into space. The others rallying around the blasphemies that left his lips. Looking inward led to temporary guilt, but quickly overpowered by his anger. They did not understand his approach. They were being judgmental. It was they, they, they. Thomas refused to take responsibility for the monster he was becoming. Even the faded mental image of his mother looking on horror would not be enough to steer him away. Is he truly lost?

The only thing working in the boy’s favor was his careful verbiage. He did not directly threaten Marion. If the others wanted to tattle, they would have no proof. Retracing his steps would not be easy, but he would attempt to do so anyway to avoid Hogwarts juvenile program (if they had one) or delay his monthly trip to detention.

“Who said anything about the window?” His brows ascended with a shrug, blue eyes flickering around to the stunned stares from his fellow Slytherins. “What?” He fought off a cough, clearing his throat. “It was for…science. A scientific question.” He would begin a representation with various motions, enacting an object falling through the air with the fingers of his left hand tightened. He started above his head, bringing his hand downward in front of his frame, like a hand-airplane. “You see, mass times…acceleration… equals…” Thomas crossed his arms defensively, halting his expert demonstration. He had no idea what he was talking about. “I wasn’t going to do it!”

Worse than the reception of his bad cop approach, was the fact it did them no favors in extracting information from Marion. A vast oversight from Thomas, he should have known the threat would be meaningless if the others did not go along with it. He began to realize if they wanted to achieve their collective goal to learn her truth, they would have to be on the same page and work together. If the others did not want to take a physical approach, Thomas would just have to suck it up and take it. Fat chance.

It appeared the best questions arrived from the brunette that set this trend of coercion in motion, the letter thief. Marion revealed two key details, someone died, and she didn’t stay quiet about it. The boy deemed the brunette may be their best option running this show and asking the questions. However, Marion’s outburst didn’t end there. She began to fight against Thora’s grasp, and reach for…an owl? “Did you really just try to grab an owl?” He muttered in amused disbelief, mostly to himself. “And I’m the mental one.” Thomas kept his comments low, almost to a whisper.

Then came a physical attack to which—in part from Thora’s help, was easily avoidable. Call me Bruce Lee. The boy’s ego was fueled from now multiple attacks evaded. Though he was probably the one that deserved to be decked the most. Somehow Thomas has managed to avoid karmic justice thus far. The teary-eyed blonde would garner no sympathy, the hanging of her head and heavy breaths symbolizing she has probably given up. It took every ounce of restraint he had not to bask in her defeat, or make some pretentious comment. He stood firm on shutting his mouth and allowing [ @Bridget Collins ] or one of the others to take the lead. Silently waiting for a moment to strike.

@Marion Davenport | @Thomas Lestrange

Things had gone downhill pretty fast. The taller boy decided threatening to push Marion out the window was a good idea, and even if it was only that, a threat, he'd gone a little overboard. Thankfully, she wasn't the only one against the idea of anyone going out the window, and he was quickly shut down. As he tried to explain he was supposedly just suggesting a science experiment, Bridget rolled her eyes. It was clearly an excuse he made up on the spot. "Mass times acceleration equals force," she said under her breath.

Then, Marion tried to... grab an owl? At least, that's what it looked like. The third year's grasping fingers came away with nothing but a few feathers, which seemed to only fuel whatever frustration she had brewing. If she'd blinked, Bridget might've missed what happened next--Marion swung at the boy who wanted to have her plummet to her death for an "experiment". He effortlessly dodged, and although he would've deserved the slap, she was glad it missed. This way the whole Owlery didn't dissolve into a fist fight.

It appeared she hadn't been grasping at straws after all. For once, Marion gave her a fairly legitimate answer, but her words sent a shiver down Bridget's spine. Someone died. And Marion had seen it. Well, Marion, whoever Vlad was, and Vic... Victor. He was the boy who'd heard the noises, right? She hadn't paid much attention to the accusations, questions, and rumors that had circulated in the Common Room following the attack, but now she wished she had. Sure, a lot of it would've been a whole load of rubbish, but some of it might've been useful.

Bridget had deduced one thing, though; the person had probably died at Hogwarts. That was the logical conclusion, since Marion and Victor had both been present. And there was only one death at Hogwarts she could think of: Harry Potter's murder of Dolores Umbridge. Not having grown up in the magical world, she wasn't as familiar with either person, but that would fit the whole 'everyone being more concerned with liking or disliking someone' thing Marion had mentioned. Harry Potter, was, of course, a legend in any recent history book she'd read, the hero who'd defeated the Dark Lord. People would naturally like and even idolize him, so watching him kill someone would've been quite a shock for those present. And, if she recalled correctly, she'd read somewhere that Dolores Umbridge had falsely prosecuted Muggleborns during the Second Wizarding War. That wasn't exactly admirable.

It made sense. Marion must have seen the murder. Bridget wouldn't want to stay at this school either if she'd witnessed that. "You saw Harry Potter murder Dolores Umbridge, didn't you?" The question honestly scared her a bit. Death was a topic that seemed much closer to home after that spider had bitten her. She could've died that night. They all could've died. But what did Harry Potter have to do with the spiders?

Action | Questioning Marion

Watching the conversation devolve much more rapidly than she had hoped, the girl had stepped back into a corner and waited. Hopefully for the storm to blow over, but it did not appear that was going to happen. It was not until she heard Bridget, one of our Quidditch players, speak up did the young girls ears perk.

"You saw Harry Potter murder Dolores Umbridge, didn't you?" This was getting interesting. The girl herself hadn't really kept up with the news, both magical and muggle, but when Dolores Umbridge died at Hogwarts, word spread like wildfire. Taking this time to step forward again from the back of the room, she spoke for the first time in a while.

"Is Bridget right Marion? Did you witness the murder of Dolores Umbridge? If you have information that could be valuable, you should share it. You don't want one of us going to get some Veritaserum to use would you?" It could sound like a threat, but she attempted to keep her voice as calm as possible. Really, what could make the situation any worse? At least she hadn't threatened the girl with physical violence when no answers had been provided. Slytherin were cunning and sly, but Marion was part of Slytherin also, and if the roles were reversed, Tyranni knew she would bite her tongue even harder out of defiance if physically threatened.

Action: Questioning Marion

Interacting with & Mentioning: @Marion Davenport | @Bridget Collins | @Thomas Lestrange

@Marion Davenport

Shiver after shiver ran down Thora's spine as an unnatural cold seeped through Marion's clothes and into her palm. Not again? When she'd held the girl back that night, before the door had opened to let in near death, the same had happened. It had already seemed strange at the time, but in the confusion of everything else going on, Thora had settled for crediting it to the perpetually freezing-cold temperatures of the dungeons. If she was honest, she quite frankly had forgotten how clutching Marion's shoulder seemed to freeze her from the inside out.

But now, it no longer seemed like a coincidence, or that the blonde had simply been cold--of fright, or whatever else--that night. It was a constant characteristic--or, at least, a two-time occurrence in completely different places, at different times, and under different circumstances.

On top of everything, Marion was shaking. Probably Thomas' threat. It wasn't surprising, as being tossed out of a window at such a height would surely be fatal. Now that Thora thought about it, it probably was a good thing that she was restraining the taller girl, for it surely would prevent some… accidents. All of Marion's diving and twisting certainly didn't help, but still, Thora refused to loosen her grip, despite the fact that she'd now already nearly lost all feeling in her hands to the numbness.

But then, her concentration was completely focused on something else. The mark. Utter chaos raged as several people demanded answers at once and Marion's denying every single accusation, whether reasonable or not, but Thora was pretty much oblivious to it all. As Marion darted to and fro, trying to grab an owl out of the air that wasn't there, her gaze was focused on the girl's exposed neck. It was a good thing nobody was really paying attention to her, seeing as her stare would look almost like one of a predator.

Blonde hair had been swept away, revealing what looked like a medium-sized, jet-black tattoo. Thora didn't know enough about tattoos in general to understand why one would choose to ink in portions of their skin, or whether they were symbols of some sort, but it was intriguing anyhow. Glistening black, it looked almost new. She etched every detail of the symmetrical pattern into her brain, determined to commit it to memory. The familiar thin rectangle was bouncing against her leg in the pocket of her robes like always, meaning that Thora had adequate means of simply sketching out the design for further studying, but it wasn't like she had an opportunity to whip out a sketchbook while her hand was practically frozen to someone else. Later would have to do.

Reasonably satisfied with the equally detailed image that had created itself in her brain, Thora finally tore her gaze from the base of Marion's neck back to everyone else. It didn't seem like they were getting anywhere, until… Something about killing? Umbridge. Potter. The words simply tossed out by her fellow students sounded like ones stemmed off of speculation, rumors, and guessing, but hopefully they were correct. Hopefully, Marion had seen something that was important.

Thora blinked green eyes quickly, forcing herself to remember everything that was said. It was then that she remembered that not only could she gain invaluable information from this weird interrogation, but that she'd told Evelynn that she would talk to Marion. Great. Here was her chance. Leaving the others once more to question the restrained girl about exactly whom she'd seen killed, Thora split off, on her own mission. 

"Uh, Marion, about the tattoo on your neck," Thora began, "What is it?" If the third year would try once again to twist away from her grasp, Thora would continue trying to hold on despite dwindling strength. If she managed to get away, so be it. The little brunette had gotten what she needed for now. If only nobody wanted to toss people out the window to prove an equation they didn't bloody know…

Action » Question Marion about the mark at the base of her neck

Little Arlo stood his ground, hands on his hips as he stared up at Marion. His expression clearly stated that he was aggravated as his large eyes turned to slits as they squinted in anger. The little boy was anything but intimidating, but it surely worked pretty well when his grandmother took such a stance. Just like Nomo (Nana) Reynolds, he tapped his foot in place as he awaited an explanation.

Why would she lie like that? He was trying to have her back and all this time she was just talking a load of BS. However, Thomas would open his dumb mouth again. Speaking of BS, this boy seemed full of it. “Grr!” The little gremlin let out a grunt of frustration as he threw his hand up in the air and brought them back down to slap his thighs. “Science! Really Thomas! Mass times acceleration equals your a jackass! Will you just be quiet already!” The boy’s gruff voice would squeak a little with exasperation.

Just as he was reaching the limits of his patience, Marion’s next words would shut him up in an instant. Someone died... Hardly the words the eleven year old part goblin was expecting to hear. Sure, he knew of death as a natural part of life. He knew the little rabbits went off to the great pasture in the sky when Povvae (Pappy) made his famous stew. But this! A human had died and Marion was had seen the whole thing. A chill would make its way up the small boy’s back as his large hand slapped across his mouth. Large, golden eyes would look up at Marion with sympathetic terror. “Oh my goodness. Marion...why haven’t you told anyone?” His voice was but a whisper. 

The admission must have been Marion’s breaking point. Before he knew it the crazed blonde was trying to snatch owls and throwing punches. “Marion! Marion! Calm down! It’ll be ok!” He called out to the girl as he slowly approached. His little arms would raise large hands as he attempted to grab hold of hers. Sometimes a soothing touch can bring us back from desperation. If she did not immediately pull away, he would cup her hands in his and lightly pat to try and soothe her. His big eyes would bounce around the room as the others began their questioning again. 

The words Harry Potter and Dolores Umbridge were thrown around. The Reynolds family did prefer their privacy and did not often discuss the events that transpired in the Magical community, but even the slugs living under the rocks back home must have heard this news. It seemed so far away. Something that had happened at another time, far away. These were the things that adults had to worry about. Was it possible that the students were involved as well?

“Marion? Is it true? Did you see this happen?” His voice was soft as his eyes looked up to hers, pleading.