Obscure Finished PV Euphaustis Boppity

“Sinister. Maniac. Laughter.”

Euphaustus whispered to himself as he trotted around the castle hallways. A grin on his face keeping him warm and fuzzy as a new adventure awaited. The words he uttered quietly to himself described the dark soul that had been haunting his dreams as of recently. To be frankly honest, he started shuffling in his bedsheets every night only a couple of days after he had discovered a particular story. Whether it was actually real or just empty words was yet to be determined.

The boy’s green piercing eyes glared at every corner and passageway, wanting to make sure his path was clear to take. Getting caught during such trivial times was not his primary intention, at all. He had to learn more about this, alone. Unbothered, and avoiding all sorts of trouble. He didn’t want to meddle with the serious affairs the academy was going through. And say what he had learned was related to the said matters, it only made things easier for him to learn about it more.

His pale-pink hands pushed the wooden door open, a creak screeching louder than a cat’s angry growl. Muffling his steps didn’t help, as they echoed throughout the empty hall. The ballroom looked like a graveyard during Halloween. Dead. Fitting, too fitting. In fact, a few feet away from his stood a ghost. But this one didn’t look blend with the usual greyish-blue light the spirits beamed. Without a second thought about it, Euphaustus opened his mouth to introduce himself like it was a very normal thing to do when you’re on the hunt of a possible existing stabbing fable.
“I’ve never seen you around - you’re not the one Moaning Myrtle was ranting about are y--” then realization hit him like a lightning bolt during a shower in Fall. This was no ghost. It was another boy, just like him, probably breaking the rules. Splendid.

A split second scream followed as the Hufflepuff twirled his arms around his chest, cowering in fear of whoever this fellow student was possibly being the murderer he was hunting down. For all Euphaustus knew, this entity could shapeshift, or even actually be a student.

But that sounded impossible and nearly too blasphemous.
“Nope, not a ghost. Never mind.” The black-haired lad opened the door like nothing had just happened and left the room without saying another word. His head peaked, the entrance covering the rest of his body as he grinned awkwardly.

But it only took a couple of seconds for him to realize that they were probably both after the same objective. The door swung open again, this time at a faster rate than before.
“Wait,” he obliviously announced his quick return, “why are you here again?” The click of the door shutting close served as a full stop to his sentence. The confused expression on his face, with his eyebrows narrowed in curiosity and the placement of his hands swinging around freely showing no fear, in contrast to his previous reaction.

When at first Flash turned on his heels, he saw the gangly, ghostly image of a first year, first looking around himself before looking straight ahead. The pause was strange, Flash just blinked and straightened out, there was nothing wrong with a student coming into the ballroom per se, though it was strange that he hadn’t been noticed yet. Once he had, he was at first being addressed casually, in a string of words that bespoke a sentence, but instead sounded like nonsense.

He didn’t even have time to voice his confusion before he interrupted himself, like a record needle being lifted. Then, a brief scream, causing Flash to jump involuntarily as the boy ran back to the door, shutting it.

Okay... Flash didn’t mind working with meager information for extrapolating data, but there was nothing within the last few seconds that he could grasp onto. Before he could even start to wonder whether he should be concerned, the door creaked back open, the escapists’ eyes beheld Flash with some apprehension, which was then replaced promptly by a sense of determination, flinging the door open the rest of the way. Flash took a step back, having the general feeling that this person’s movements were unpredictable. It put him on edge.

He asked two pointed questions, though the mode of address was still disorientating. He at once acted like he knew him already, and had never met him. Flash had quickly found himself in the need of an answer, or just anything to say. His brow furrowed incredulously, as if he was picked to be on a game show he didn’t volunteer for. At least with only a small leap of deductive work, Flash could finally latch onto a line of reasoning.

It was the ballroom past curfew. No common rooms were on the fourth floor, so one would have to be going there intentionally. The rumor Flash had been following gave a very specific time of night-- midnight, of course-- to arrive and start the ritual. It wasn’t quite midnight yet, Flash knew by the watch on his wrist that he had five minutes left.

Though, it was a bit embarrassing, especially with another person present, to perform a weird ritual. Even answering his question honestly and admitting he was chasing a kid’s horror story, was something Flash wanted to avoid. It might be well and good for this kid, but he was supposed to have more dignity than that. His own maturity was supposed to set the example for other kids his age, leading by example. Still, he was there, and the kid likely already could read the writing on the wall.

”The… Night Skull?” Flash’s voice bled with resentment for having to say it out loud. ”You too, I presume. It’s almost midnight, so…”

Flash’s voice trailed off, not actually sure how much information he had. He was thin, his body twisted into its own sort of posture even as he stood still. There was next to no information to be gained simply by looking at him, except to notice that he was particularly unique. Flash would have to readjust his expectations if he was going to be dealing with some… artistic soul of some sort.

”My name is Flash. What’s yours?” Normal Flash would be a bit more loquacious, but he knew time was running out. Even if it was silly, he couldn’t risk detention just to let midnight roll by without even trying.

@Euphaustus Boppity

“Yes…” a lengthy pause made it possible for the silent, insidious crickets to be heard - the insecure tone Euphaustus responded with probably raised an eyebrow or two, or four. Six, if the spirit the boys were after was already present. The Hufflepuff could swear he had read about this night skull in one of his black hard-covered books. The ratchet, frail spines of theirs showed how old they were, as it could barely be hanged onto his cheap, scratched grey pants. A black leather strap attached the boy’s notebook to his clothing. One could call it a spellbook.

“Funny how this whole midnight thing works, yeah?” He approached the fellow lad at a slow, anxious pace. The tapping of his feet on the floor echoing awkwardly as nothing but silence haunted the four walls.
“It’s always considered the creepy hour - from where I come from, the eeriest hour is three in the morning.” Any normal being would usually talk in a quiet hollowing manner when speaking of such conspiracies, but this sort of conversation was what got Euphaustus in a cheery mood. It still sent shivers down his spine, but that was the fun of it.

“Once, it was three, I thought I was having a chat with my grandma, five minutes later into the summoning and it turned out to be a demon. Thankfully, I was at my aunt’s house. Lot has been up for sale ever since.”

Without hesitation or thoughts of self-doubt, the ethereal-skinned boy raised his left hand in mid-air (intentionally defying the rules of formality were one should raise their right) for an introductory handshake.
“Nice to meet you on this menacing night, Flash.” Then he proceeded to, again, pop one of his innocent, odd smiles - perfectly timed in contrast to the setting.
“I’m Euphaustus. Euphaustus Boppity. You can shorten it in whichever way you prefer.” The countless times his name was fractioned into much shorter nicknames made the boy not even bother to correct others whenever anyone misspelt it.

“So, the ritual.” The green eyes of his nearly popped off their sockets in excitement, gleaming.
“Is there anything I’m not aware of, but you are? Or vice versa? From my personal experience,” he cleared his throat, “non-beings like these tend to not be friendly. Surely, the same can be said about this one.”

The boy seemed to light up with enthusiasm once he began to speak, talking jovially of the haunting hours and the summoning of demons. The frankness of the way he described it made Flash chuckle a bit, he didn’t need to keep such a stony face if he wasn’t a threat. He had to be one of the kind of kids who were introduced to the occult early on in their lives, even Durham had its share of those types. The ash white skin, the wide un-sleeping eyes, the black book hopping around on his thigh like an eager companion. Flash had grown up surrounded by muggles, so he wondered what being interested in the occult meant for someone in the magical world.

Were there really demons, or was he making a joke?

Promising himself to study up on magical demonology, Flash took out his left hand quickly to introduce himself properly with his patented firm handshake. He was so well-trained in manners that the change had not thrown him off.

”Euphaustus is fine. I think saying the proper name is important. Names have power, they say.” Euphaustus couldn’t know, but Flash’s own real name was not too far off from his. His dislike of it partially stemmed from its false sense of importance and number of syllables. He had hated his nicknames too. Flash was a good name.

Next, Euphaustus became more excitedly ominous, but getting to the point just as Flash had wanted. The ritual. There were only a few minutes to spare, so Flash clapped his hands, as if ready to get down to business.

”Alright, what I heard was that one was to put five chairs into a… pentagram… facing outwards, and up to five people could sit in them. The, uh, sacrifices would then chant something. I believe it was…” Even though he knew his company would sooner delight in what he said than make fun of him, Flash couldn’t help but be bothered by how middle-of-the-road the whole myth was. The more he explained it out loud, the more it seemed obvious that it had nothing to it. Flash had read much more entrancing ghost stories than the one he was currently telling. ”’Night Skull, kill us all’ three times.”

@Euphaustus Boppity

@Flash Holmwood

Everyone was far too used to coming up with much easier names for Euphaustus - some didn’t even bother to spell his name out, and the majority of those who did, didn’t pronounce it properly. It still happens to this very day, be it from fellow peers to Professors. It got to the point were Euphaustus just got used to it. Hence why he was rather quite surprised that Flash actually stated and called the Hufflepuff, by his name - properly. It brought up a rather strange feeling floating about in his stomach, and with it, a smile. A smile that just described the joyous, opposite emotions of what he should have been feeling on this dark journey.

“Pentagram?” Questioned the boy with a little cackle contrasting his silent whispering.
“Oddly too fitting,” he then proceeded to speak up his opinion. It was no shock that it required such shape. His lips automatically smirked to the side, eyebrows narrowing upright like a kite rising high in the air. He liked where this was going. It was rather enticing, the whole ritual thing, it gave Euphaustus all the craves and jingles. His fingers twirling; playing with one another.

And then Flash went on to speak up the words for the summoning, Euph sniffed in the calm, cold air that roamed around the dead ballroom, smelling the spirits of both evil and good - it might have just been the scent of cold leftovers from whenever the place was last used.
“Kill us all, three times…” repeated Euphaustus, grinning from ear to ear.
“Oddly satisfying, isn’t it? Not the killing part of course!” He wildly gestured with his hands, trying to reason with them - properly.
“It’s just, I love the tension. Do you as well?” Nothing sounded perfect than having a totally normal conversation while in the middle of a ritual to summon a serial killer.

On the side were a rack of chairs sitting, serving no purpose whatsoever, other than doing what they were meant to provide. Euphaustus, as he spoke and did all sorts of mannerism, was carrying a couple in his hands already, preparing them.
“How are we going to draw a Pentagram on the floor though?” He suddenly stopped, realizing that they might have a bit of a struggle with that.
“Pull out some black paint and a brush and I’ll genuinely scream right now,” he tilted his head to the side, eyes wide, hysterically gazing at the other boy.
“Say magic and I’ll most definitely drop these chairs right now to finger gun you… as a symbol of approvement, of course.”

Euphautus followed along with Flash’s words with a spring in his step. He seemed to be enjoying himself a good deal, which only put Flash in a better mood. He got so tired of people who only ever spoke in words they knew they were supposed to say, and acted in ways they were supposed to act. It was refreshing to be around someone who was unashamed of their own peculiar interests. For Flash, he brightened the dim, dusty hall with the giddy descriptions of impending doom. He dutifully started gathering the chairs, also a useful and proactive sort.

Flash could find himself becoming very interested in someone like that. It was people who were unafraid of speaking their mind who often saw the solution to complex problems. It was a matter of perspective, and everyone always having the same perspective made everyone blind to the infinite possibilities that any given situation actually had within it. Sometimes, that perspective paid off in ways that earned nobel peace prizes. Hidden genius, often written off as eccentricity.

”I can’t say I like the tension of possibly being killed.” Flash answered honestly, but he wore a smile on his face anyway. ”But to be completely honest, I don’t think there’s any chance that the Night Skull is real. Not that it’s going to stop me from performing the ritual correctly…”

He added the last part quickly, wanting to make sure Euphaustus knew that he wasn’t dealing with a bored rebellious preteen. Flash was serious about this, despite the fact that it was a load of crap. Flash rarely did anything that he wasn’t committed to doing, it was just like the phrase his sister loved to tout, whatever is rightly done, however humble, is noble. Even if it meant making sure you executed a ridiculous children’s ghost story with perfect accuracy, so that he might know beyond a doubt that his truth was the one coming from a place of actual investigation, and not preconceived notions. It was people who lazily believed that they understood the world who never truly understood anything.

Setting up the circle himself, Euphaustus joked about Flash’s preparedness, giving a try at guessing how he had expected to draw the pentagram. Flash almost felt sheepish, but the casual way the teasing was introduced was enough to make Flash laugh instead. It didn’t seem like he was trying to make fun of him. Lately he had been trying to stop feeling so persecuted by his fellow classmates. Not everyone was out to get him, as it turned out. Only some of them.

Still, Euphaustus had been almost right. If he had known him better, he would have known Flash would never deface school property, so long as it could be easily traced back to him. Instead, he pulled out a roll of masking tape.

”Ta-da!” Flash waved it around, a solution apparated through the magic of forethought.

Finishing up their circle with a carefully stickered five-sided star, Flash took his seat in one of the ballroom chairs. He thought how odd it was, given how he had skipped out on all the big social events so far, that this was actually his first time sitting in one of the ballroom chairs. Even though he was a child of high society, one who had been trained his whole life to appear at social events to gather information and network, the situation he was in at the moment felt far more fitting to him. He almost felt like he was in one of his old pulp mystery novels, where at any moment, the serial killer would pop out from the corner and chase off the insipid detectives.

”Alright, we made it.” Flash looked carefully at his watch. It was always kept accurate, so he knew it was only a matter of moments before midnight would strike. ”I just wanted to say, in case we’re murdered by the ghost of an evil wizard, it’s been a pleasure knowing you Euphaustus.”

Flash kept his pleased smile. There was nothing to worry about.

@Euphaustus Boppity

Moments passed as they waited. The ritual was complete. All they had to do, was wait. It was out of their hands now. In the corner of the Ballroom, a grandfather clock, striked twelve. The tinging noise which announced the switch to another day, echoed against the tall, empty walls.

The first three strikes, nothing happened. It was quiet. The room was but a room, and the pentagram remained unphased. But then, a slow noise of wind, started to ring in their ears. As if a mother softly hushed their crying child. The room seemed to get darker, as any source of light started to fade away. What was happening? From the edges of the room, a fog that looked more liquidy than cloudy, started to move towards the pentagram. Similarly, another part of the fog slid up the walls, slowely but steady, filling the room.

In the center of the pentagram, the milk like goopy clouds, started to merge, slowely rising up to the ceiling, now colliding with the mist that already glided along the ceiling. Every indication of the ballroom, was now erased. These children could've thought they were on a different planet, dimension, realm... If they'd make any sounds, their gasps wouldn't reach far. The fog had a slight isolating effect. Every sound would be deafened. It would sound closer than usual. No longer, would it echo against the empty, static walls.

Hussssssh...A distant girly shriek. Echoeing surprisingly through the white landscape that overtook the ballroom. Where did it come from? From behind them? Above them? Underneath them? It was hard to tell. Were they imagening it? The layers of fog started to shift, every so often, they could see each other. A dragging piping noise, started to glide across the room, suddenly becoming louder when it reached the center of their ritual on the floor. It was nearly deafening loud. It dragged on and on, yet they couldn't see anything.

Until it stopped. The clock had striked twelve times.

A short moment of complete silence, filled their ears.

It was so quiet... Too quiet.

Suddenly, a high pitched shriek, like a banshee, rang into their ears. It came from right in front of them. It was nothing like they ever heard before. The kind of noise one would only describe in fairytales or ghost stories for troublesome children.

Within the mist, something started to take shape. A dark figure could be noticed, a few inches away from them. It seemed to emerge from the ground up, as if rising from hell. It was skinny looking, they had long sharp claws and piercing red eyes, that glowed bright red. Slowely, it turned to Flash, its head tilted in a way that reminded them of the story of the Crooked Man. It leaned closer to him, as it made a high rattling sound, their claws inching closer to his face.

The mist, didn't let go. Until abit later.

The smile on Flash’s face slowly began to fade. The loud clang of the unseen clock took him a bit by surprise, but even more unnerving was the all-too-real change in the environment around them. It wasn’t delirium or a trick of the eye-- the room was getting darker, and mist was starting to coil across their feet. W-what? A fire? No, it doesn’t look like smoke... Panic began to set in as Flash tried to take in his surroundings. He couldn’t make anything out, the darkness was starting to consume everything.

That was all there was to it. Night Skull was real and Flash was about to be killed and put into the floorboards.

The fog was surreal, clearly some sort of magic, not behaving in the way vapor should. It was more like a threat, something grasping and clawing at the room. Flash was stuck to the spot, watching in horror as the viscous white spectre ushered out from the pentagram behind them, turning quickly to witness the entire room be cloaked in hazy whiteness. His heart beat like a frantic drum, awaiting the moment when a skull faced serial killer stepped out of the circle with a machete. Even the sound of his raspy breath was muted, like the cavernous, echoing chamber they sat in moments prior had been left behind.

It invaded every corner, Flash could no longer even see his companion who had been sitting nearby. A shrill scream from the distance, causing Flash to twist around in his seat even more to try to discern something-- anything that would make him more prepared. There was no information to glean, no escape from his isolation. The magical mist almost seemed to mock him, play with him, as more horrifying sounds made its way to his ears, as if selectively. How he regretted summoning such an evil creature that loved to torment its prey. Perhaps he deserved it for being so naive.

As the seemingly unending sounding of the grandfather clock ended, there was a deafening silence. Flash couldn’t even hear his heartbeat, as strongly as he felt it across his entire body. This was it, the end of all things.

To wit, an ear splitting screech, something entirely otherworldly. Flash could do little in his sudden panic but scream back, loud and sharp. He had been able to keep his calm during the spider attacks, despite the fear in his heart, but there he could see the enemy, watch it and learn about it. Here, he was flying blind, at the mercy of his attacker completely. Falling backwards out of his chair, Flash watched a shadowy figure rise from the ground, its shining red eyes glowing fiercely through the supernatural fog. It approached him, reaching out with unnaturally sharp fingers and moving with eerie, inhuman shifting of its head.

Surely, it was the last moments of Flash’s life.

@Nico Shymane @Meenauh Silmataurea@Euphaustus Boppity

Several minutes ago...

She was finishing the patrolling of her areas. She didn't like to be that late in the castle, despite she was allowed. She still felt she was breaking the rules. She was walking past the ballroom doors when she heard talking and sighed. If those were students not in their dorms, she'd have to step in. She asked all the universe for those voices to be not 6th of 7th-year students. She hated to deal with older students because some of them were not treating her seriously and she had to ask professors to intervene. It was a strange concept — when someone planned something malicious and were caught, they clearly hated the catcher. It always fascinated Meenauh as the offenders should be hated or whatever.

The small hole in the doors revealed two boys doing strange things in the middle of the ballroom. She started to open the door but stopped just a second after as she heard footsteps. Very humble and light footsteps as if there was a butterfly flapping the wings. A moment after her colleague, Nico, appeared from behind the corner, probably heading back after patrolling her areas. Once Meenauh saw her, she put a finger to her own mouth, signalising she was hunting. Non-verbally she briefly waved at her and signalised to come closer.

"It seems that breaking the curfew will be the least of an offence. They try to summon something. I'm not sure they can manage anything, but I have an idea," and she quickly presented her idea while taking out her invisibility cloak from her bag.

The boys finished drawing the pentagram when the two prefect girls were slowly moving around the ballroom under the invisibility cloak. It couldn't fully cover the two of them, so Meenauh prayed the boys wouldn't turn around until the clock hits midnight. They just needed to reach the other side of the ballroom.

"Let's begin," she whispered to Nico as the clock hit midnight, "Fumos," she whispered with her wand out and let out the fog, which started to cover first the floor, "Fumos", and the fog started to fill the room, slowly covering more and more sources of light, dimming the illumination in the room.

"Fumos", the fog was already dense enough and she let Nico out near the pentagram, watching her crouch to the centre of it. She couldn't see the boys clearly, but she hoped her friendly dhampir's senses were strong enough to play her role in the thick fog. The show was a bit more spectacular than Meenauh planned, and she moved closer to check on the boys. Making them understand such rituals were no joke is one thing. But bringing unconscious bodies to the hospital wing in case they faint wasn't quite what she could expect after midnight.

The clock stopped, Nico raised from the ground and screamed so loud and unexpectedly that Meenauh involuntarily had to close her ears, almost dropping her cloak. No one would notice her anyway due to the fog and the focus on the young dhampir. Nico was a perfect actress and Meenauh could say she even overdid it a bit. Nico started to move closer to the boy and Meenauh started to giggle hysterically, thinking it was the time to stop the show and give the boys their deserved detention.

"Lumos", and the tip of her wand lit up as she stepped out from the cloak and moved closer to the epicentre laughing, "I think they got it, Nico," she made a few steps closer to the boys not quite sure they were in the right consciousness to absorb her words properly, "First, dear boys, you're breaking curfew, which is why you're getting detention," she stopped laughing and frowned as the topic was far more serious than the situation, "but what you planned to do is unfortunately far beyond my jurisdiction. You will have a very serious talk with your Heads. And now we will accompany you back to your common rooms."

She took out two chocolate bars from her bag to ease The Nico Effect and handed them to the boys.

Dear @Flash Holmwood and @Euphaustus Boppity, you broke rules 3 and 4 and you will serve detention (you will be contacted about details via an owl). You cannot start new RP threads on and after May 13, 2020 until you serve your detention fully. You can still continue to RP in threads created before that day, you're allowed to join other RP threads and create OOC threads. You are free to continue RPing in this thread to react at the situation.