Errand Glitter and be Gay Corridors Location

Nobody... really...

One second seemed to be an eternity in Piérre's eyes. It was as he had been frozen in the moment of chaos, a time in which he could feel his heart beating in less than one pulse in the pause. Many things seemed to take place in the moment; the white haired professor and the Hufflepuff head of house had an interaction, the brunette that Piérre had spattered called out his name, slowly spinning. Piérre could see the light reflecting off of the multi-coloured paint, the viscosity of it not unlike water, but merely a little thicker. It was almost like he wasn't in his own body... the air was silent. There was nothing... nothing but him... and everyone else, petrified in space and unable to touch him.

There was a second in which the Britalian saw a bright flash of light, and then everything sped up again. He was splashed with the hose of paint, which caused the boy to let out a gasp of surprise and a sharp crack of unrestrained laughter as his facepaint was completely ruined, instead replaced with soaked green and blue clothes and once brown hair now dyed a crusty, slowly slicking down, teal. Truth be told, it kind of looked good on him.

With a shout, Piérre snagged the dropped hose, grasping it firmly in both hands, turned it on, and splashed pain absolutely everywhere that was physically possible. It was a Muggle garden hose, a tool that the Britalian was fortunately quite proficient with. Summertime in Italy was the best time, especially when Romeo and he got in swim trunks, grabbed a pair of hoses or water balloons, and began to fight to the death, uncaring of the muddy ground beneath them or how messy they got in the end. Besides, even if they had been to messy or muddy for their adoptive parents to handle, they would hose off and then come inside.

Perhaps there was good still to be found in this world. A happiness that could be shared, if only for one month, or only a few hours. The love and the sheer happiness of a child. Though Piérre knew that he would eventually have to grow up and be "responsible", he vowed that he would always be a child at heart. A child who would be eccentric, yes, but a child who would accept and love without bounds.

As people started to filter from the hall, Piérre watched after them, looking down at himself and his messy clothes. Turning off the hose, Piérre pushed it aside with his foot, accepting the drying paint in his hair, and resolving thhat he would have to ask another student to cast Scourgify for him, for he did not know the cleaning spell himself.

Let chaos reign supreme. Piérre considered this a job well done.

477 words

Percival couldn't wait to take a shower and change into a fresh pair of clothes. Ones that were not covered in paint from head to toe. The boy had expected the entire ordeal to be over as he turned around and headed back towards his dorm. Though it seemed like someone, someone stupid, decided things were not over.

The boy's eyes widened as glitter hit the wet paint on his clothes. Causing it to effectively stick to his clothing. Percival froze where he stood and turned around quickly to watch the two girls from earlier running away. His fragile calm was broken as they pushed him over the edge.

Anyone who knew Percival personally knew that he was a hothead. The boy grit his teeth together and his fists clenched together. The boy was having trouble focusing on the logic of the situation. A part of him just wanted to turn around and ignore him. It was only a little bit of glitter nothing too horrible. He really wanted a shower, and chasing after the other two was a lot of work for a little glitter. Though the prideful side of him took over with little problems. He wanted to get even with the other. Not wanting to be the one to back down.

Percival turned right back around to where some leftover paint cans stood half empty. The boy picked up a bucket of green paint his face twisting into a sneer. He would show that rude girl how far he was willing to go to get even with her. The boy could see it now coming up behind her throwing paint at her.

Without another thought, the boy followed the pair to wherever they were headed.

Percival leaves the thread.

Mentions: @Ileen Knight @Dealla Prince

When Maria woke up from her nap in the Huffle hovel, she didn’t think that she found find the castle looking like this. “This” pertained to the fact that it looked like paint bombs exploded and glitter monsters had vomited everywhere. Streaks of paint were splattered on the walls, on the floors, in different shades and patterns. Cans were everywhere, some of them spilled. The glitter was also everywhere and was that…a hose?

“Bless whoever the poor soul has to clean this lot up.” Maria commented to herself.

After the initial shock what looked like the kids’ craft time gone wrong wore off, Maria started wondering what all this was for. Was it a prank? Did a spell go wrong? The sleep from her mid-afternoon nap still fogged her brain and all memories of the many advertisements Professor Lian put up around the castle did not surface. It was not until she looked up and saw the large banner that hung up on the ceiling. Of course! It was Pride Month! She had seen Professor Lian’s many advertisements for the event but it seemed like she missed it. She didn’t mean to, in fact, she was actually excited for it. Back home, during this time her parents used to watch the Parades, and they’d see colorful outfits and banners and people showing their personalities on the street.

The LGBT+ community wasn’t entirely a foreign concept to Maria, as her parents were always open about it. Her mother often answered her questions, like when she asked about Pride for the first time, and her father always tried to teach her about it through the books he let her read growing up. Stories of children with two moms or dads, knights who fell in love with princes and girls who felt most like themselves not wearing “girl’s clothes” were a few of the prominent themes of her childhood. Of course she didn’t fully understand the implications, at that age, but it helped her be more accepting in general. Her parents also saw it as a way to maybe to help her understand herself better when she got older.

Maria’s thoughts were redirected from her fond memories and the banner when she saw someone in the corridor. It was one of the older Hufflepuff Prefects. Seeing that there was no one else in the corridor, and because she didn’t know what to do, she decided to engage.

“Hi! Um, I’m guessing the Pride event happened?” She asked. Not knowing what else to say, she decided to blurt out the next thing that came to mind.

“D-do you need help cleaning up?” As soon as the words few out of her mouth, her eyes widened, instant regret showing on her face. Why did she say that? Sure, she didn’t really have much to do now, but it would take ages to clean the mess up. Actually, even then, she was sure that the glitter would probably still be there even after graduation. But she had already offered. Hopefully, the girl would say no and she would be on her merry way.

super late on this one but i can still do some quick post so lets go oof

Thea entered the corridors after most of the paint and glitter fighting has started. She didn’t really want to engage with anyone since getting the sparkling material out of her hair was going to be a pain, even if you exclude the paint. She had her hair get dirty with paint even before they moved to England, and it wasn’t fun in the slightest. She didn’t really want to repeat that experience for the life of her.

So, the witch attempted to do what she only thought was reasonable – avoid interacting with the paint crazy students, and apparently teachers. Somewhere in there she spotted both the head of Slytherin and head of Hufflepuff. She never thought she’d get to see the man who she was supposed to look up to throw paint at his students, but hey, she also never thought her common room would be set on fire by an explosion in the middle of the night. Funny how things are like that.

Thea instead stood in the corner of the small corridor, trying to not get affected by the paint splattering everywhere, and instead sat down in one of the less affected spaces. She pulled out some of the little paint and glitter she did buy and started work on a small, but detailed piece. It was just a small water fall as well as some trees and flowers. She put a small yellow and black smiley face in the corner above it along with her initials, T.K. The witch smiled to herself, looking back at the chaos around her. It was calming down, but she still felt a little bit intimidated as she packed up her paints and made her way over to another location.

thread left to hufflepuff common room.
wc: 288/1000

Mentions: @Maria Dee

Annie took in the sight around her. She deemed her event set up in the corridors as successful due to the paint on the ground, ceiling, walls and most importantly the other students and professors. As much as she wanted to see how crazy the professor's classrooms looked and even the Hufflepuff Common Room she had to stay to monitor everything. The event was starting to wrap up, more people left looking very colorful shall we say?

The brunette took a look down at her white colored clothes now a mix of blue, orange, yellow and other colors she had been hit with, no thanks to mainly her Head of House. He seemed to be in no better state and a small smile made it's way on her lips as he chased around the Slytherin Head of House and professor with paint until they left in a very messy state similar to the other students who joined in the paint wars.

It wasn't until a girl spoke to her, and startled Annie out of her daze that she focused back on the present. "Ah uhm yeah the event is basically done. Clean up will be fun though haha.." Fun might not be the right word, but she would have to clean it up either way since students couldn't walk through the paint-stained corridors to get to their classes the next day. She turned her attention back to the girl when she offered to help. "Uh sure if you'd like.. Uhm if you don't know Scourgify there is a hose and sponges to mop up some paint.. I can take care of the higher stuff I think?" She glanced up at the splattered ceiling wondering how it got up there and if it was accidental or on purpose.

The Prefect rolled up her now paint soaked sleeves, slightly grimacing at the soggy and heaviness of them before she fished her wand out of her pocket of her robes that was stored by the table where she had her set up. Thankfully it had stayed relatively clean over in that area. With a quick hum as she glanced around she started at the far end where there were streaks of paint on the ceiling "Scourgify!" She called with a small motion of her wand as she started the long process.

Word count: 388 (already finished word count)

Much to the younger girl’s chagrin, the older prefect did need help cleaning up.

“Yup, it looks like it’s going to be pretty interesting.” She said as she eyed the corridor.

Because she was behind on homework, Maria had yet to learn Scourgify. Seeing no other option she decided to grab the hose and start taking care of the paint on the floor. The other girl went to clean the…ceiling? She hadn’t noticed that before. How’d paint get up there? She genuinely wanted to ask what transpired prior to her arrival, because from the looks of the other girl, it must have been quite the event. She was also a little bummed out the she couldn’t join in on the fun, and now had to clean, but she decided that such is life. Sometimes you get paint splattered all over you, and sometimes you clean the paint up. From the multicolored paint splatters on the girls white (at least she guessed it was white) clothes, they probably had a paint war.

Deciding that she had regretted her decisions enough for now, she made her way to the hose. It took her a while to figure out where to turn it on, but after about 10 minutes she was able to get the hose to work. It also doused her with water at first, but she had already guessed that with her luck that was going to happen at some point anyway. Taking a sponge, started scrubbing away at the paint on the floor. Clearly, it had been a while since they had their paint fight, because some of it had crusted over and was now very much stuck to the floor. Maria had to scrub a little harder for those. Soon enough, she fell into a rhythm of scrubbing, and was humming a tune from a movie she watched as a child. It was almost reminiscent of the scene where the girl was scrubbing a bathroom floor and sang to call little woodland creatures to help her. The image made her smile as she wiped off the sweat that had accumulated on the top of her brow. If only she could do that now. Suddenly the image of everyone’s rats and toads coming over to help came into mind and made her crack a smile. Nope, that probably would not be best



It probably would also be best for her to stop making herself laugh because she probably looked crazy to the other girl.

After reigning herself in and making sure that she would no longer laugh at the image of people’s rats scrubbing the floors, Maria went back to work. She scrubbed and scrubbed until her arms and shoulders felt a little sore. Part of her resented her for not learning Scourgify, and the other part resented her for leaving her warm comfy bed in the first place. She would clean until she was no longer needed, and from there she would greet the older Prefect a Happy Pride, and make her way back to her dorm. Like the yoga thread, she would wake up sore in the morning, but also with a new memory. She probably wasn’t going to forget about Pride anytime soon.

Exit Thread

Interacting with @Atlas Reid

It was chaos like Ethen had never dreamed. Even as a young child, he was a master at brewing pandemonium but he never would have dreamed that he would have the chance to throw pain around like a barbaric monkey while at a prestigious school. It was a fact that he couldn’t ignore and even just watching, he felt a smile grow across his face. Paint of all colors showered the ground and participants and everyone seemed like they were having intense fun. Ethen was overwhelmed by the options as he peered out and didn’t know where he could even begin. There was just such an endless amount of chaos.

In his clean jeans and hoodie, Ethen felt strangely overdressed for the occasion. Like he had shown up in a suit to a battlefield. It was something he knew had to be corrected immediately. Stretching his arms out, Ethen plummeted to the floor tactically rolling around in the paint to coat himself. Every inch needed to be drenched. The very pores of his body needed to eat, sleep and be paint if his plan was to be completed. There was only one way that the chaos could be improved upon. A monster was needed.

Ethen had long believed himself a hero of chaos but even a hero knows that monsters are sometimes necessary. The transformation of his body into something grander even translated to his psyche. His mind thought little else of the flow and splatter of pain. Like new limbs, each drop of paint smeared across his body was another weapon. The mix of glitter and pain that quickly coated him became the shell that he would need to abandon his humanity. For Ethen, he had to truly become a monster.

Finally feeling prepared, Ethen rose back to his feet oozing with paint. Laughing and roaring maniacally, he truly felt like the paint monster he was born to be. Even as a young lad, Ethen would look at pain in wonderment knowing that its possibilities were endless. All it would take was something to spur him to action and this was it. A chaotic battle of glitter and paint, the likes of which would render the school into a new age. A new age, run by the monsters of the paint.


Each oozing step squished a cacophony of paint in all directions. Paint dripped down his body and he could barely see any longer having to shut his eyes to defend them from the paint. The glitter was like scales plastered against his ever-morphing colors. Ethen would swing his arms wildly peppering everything in small drops of paint like a dog shaking its wet fur. Like shrapnel launching from his body, nothing was safe. He was a walking bomb of paint and nothing would stop him from claiming every inch of the school.

Not only was the ground and air around him falling victim to his paint monster rampage, Ethen soon found his mind dominated by memories of the paint. The imaginary life of the paint shell that was now part of his being. He shivered at the fake memory of being locked so endlessly in a paint can. He could feel the visceral fear of being used to paint a wall. There were a thousand voices in his head all calling out for revenge. Revenge for the imprisonment and revenge for those buckets of pain thrown on walls and floors with no chance to ever feel the sun on their skin or mix with paints of all kinds. Ethen began to realize that life as an imaginary paint monster would be something that slowly drained what made him Ethen. But for the paint, it would be worth it.

Trudging on, Ethen began scanning those around him. His paint was hungry for victims and he would see it fed. Lashing his arms around, Ethen continued to spray everything in his limited view. Nothing was safe from him and he finally found his true target. The familiar face was marred by paint but she was still identifiable. Ethen wondered why Atlas hadn’t committed to being a paint monster, maybe he had made a mistake. But it was too late to turn back.

As if on their own, Ethen’s legs began moving quicker as he began closing the distance between him and Atlas. Running his fingers through his hair, pain oozed over his hands and down his neck as he remained drenched in the thick paint and glitter. It seemed like Atlas did not see his approach to his benefit as the last few feet were closed.

“OOOWAAAAGAAAA!!!” Ethen bellowed as he wrapped his arms around Atlas from behind pulling her close and into the mess of paint that was his body. The paint on his feet left him a little unsteady but he kept his arms locked around her as he began laughing maniacally. “You will be devoured by the paint monster!” Ethen warned Atlas as he shook his head violently spraying bits of paint in the area.

Ethen continued to hold Atlas feeling somewhat accomplished that his conquest was going smoothly. Sure, he would have preferred conquering the school as a paint monster with Atlas but making her the first victim of his paint shell seemed an adequate start. At least he thought. But deep down he knew it wanted more. The paint was hungry, its desire for revenge insatiable. Even the sparkles and glitter could not contain the malice oozing around him. Again he questions whether or not it was safe to allow the imaginary paint monster control of his being. But he was too far gone. Each second holding Atlas was another moment that the paint would be spreading and devouring her soul.

The imaginary darkness that now had been unleashed by Ethen seemed too grand to stop and his own sense of himself was slowly fading in the mixing pallet of his body. His eyes were locked shut now to avoid paint dripping into them and his last feeling of humanity was the feeling of his friend still in his arms as he completely surrendered to the paint beast within.

WC: 1031/1000

Interacting with @Ami Procoppio
lord almighty I'm so sorry for the wait nmdfknlsdn

The girl almost jumped as the boisterous lad howled out his confident voice. Most of the people she's encountered were docile, at most bright and chipper as her, so seeing this confident senior practically peacocking in front of her was quite a variation for the child. As she looked upon closer inspection, the mustache isn't exactly right... Is it painted on? Was he too insecure to show that some parts of his mustache weren't connecting properly? The rosy cheeks rolled in for another comeback as the boy complimented her once again. Is someone pulling her leg? Is the person who posed as Pericles before in a fake letter back at it again? Is it this him? Could be, but...

Before Breana could question the lad, he swiped the paintbrush from her hands. "Wh--" Another compliment from the mystery boy came about, this time about her artistic skills. The first thing that came to her mind was that this was one of the first things that Pericles talked to her about: art. Or at least, her try at the arts. She pushed away that thought, thinking that she's probably just paranoid. After all, the culprit wouldn't risk pulling a prank on her again... Right?

"Huh?" She sputtered, her mind diving back into reality. "A-ah, sorry I was a world away for a sec." She shook her head, scratching her head. "For a second there I thought you were talking about painting the ceiling." Breana laughed, but then she saw Chad's unwavering cocky expression. "... Oh my-- You're fudging serious?" She said in disbelief. To be fair, she isn't doubting his strength. Heck, even most first years can probably pick her up. It's the fact that a random stranger chose her of all people to do such a daring stunt.

She looked around, mostly to check if there's no one snickering nearby as a weird prank on her. Breana looked up at the ceiling, before cursing herself (still in her natural language that is cursing via baked goods) and gave in to her gut instincts. "You know what? Sure! Lift me up, let's see if I can paint sumthin' outta it." She threw her arms up, preparing herself on the inevitable lift.

"You're fudging serious?"

"Hell yeah," Chad replied without hesitation, grinning at the Ravenclaw standing in front of him. Did people not know that there was nearly no chaos left unsampled by the king? Maybe he should start carrying a sign around with him. Or maybe a nametag. And it'd read, Down to clown, or some other very catchy phrase that just happened to rhyme.

He was a little surprised that Breana had actually agreed to his plan, as it didn't seem, well... the most safe. Or logical. In fact, he really shouldn't have suggested it at all. What if he dropped her, and she got seriously injured? The two barely knew each other, and yet Chad already felt the instinct to protect her from any sort of harm rising up in him. What was this feeling? It was terribly uncomfortable, if he was being completely honest. He certainly wasn't used to it, or anything.

But regardless, he beamed happily as Breana consented to his ridiculous plan, pumping his fist in the air triumphantly. "Alright, let's do this thing! Got your brush?" Confirming that the girl actually had something to paint with before he lifted her into the air, he crouched down into a squat, like a frog, patting his shoulders. "Hop on!" he said happily, grinning at her expectantly. "I'll hang on tight, I promise."

Waiting until she was properly seated on his shoulders, he quickly grabbed her legs so that she wouldn't topple over. "You gotta sit up straight, or you'll fall right off," he warned her, slowly beginning to get to his feet. Finally, standing up straight, he craned his head upwards to watch the girl paint. "Alright, do your thing!" he called, his ever-present smile stretched from ear to ear. "Just try not to drip any paint on me, okay?"

interacting with @Breana Oliveire.

Reducio

Chad’s outfit:

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Chad Preoccupied’s Hogwarts Tour
Great Hall → Corridors → Common Room → Muggle Studies → DADA → Library → Courtyard → Herbology → Charms → Divination → Astronomy

Interacting with @Ami Procoppio

Any other studious Ravenclaw would have instantly walked away from such a scenario. Painting the ceiling? Even if it was part of the event, there was still the possibilities of some sort of mishap, pulling off such a stunt. Still, Breana agreed, and there's no going back on it. Is there a tinge of regret immediately after agreeing to the boy's plan? Possibly, but she hasn't thought about it too much.

As the lad pumped his fist in a sort of celebration, she started to strategize. "Alright, well I think it'd be best if ye hoist me over to the edge, that way--" But as the tiny girl was racking her brain with the best way to paint, the boy was already squatting, expecting Breana to hop on without a care. "Huh? O-oh! Right, right..." She double-checked the brush in her hand, hoping that it's big enough to cover the walls that she's going to paint. "Aye, it's all well and good here. Now, uh..." She gulped nervously as she looks over at Chad's back, wondering on how to go about this.

With some encouraging words from the Hufflepuff boy, Brena smiled as she carefully sat on the boy's shoulders. "I better hold you onto that. I may be small, but I can pack a punch." She chuckled at her own little banter, adjusting her weight to balance herself as she's on top of Chad. "Whooookay. Okay okay, sitting up, yeah..." She affirmed to the boy, sticking out her tongue as a sign of focus as she stuck her arms out for maximum balance. She squeaked in a mix of panic and joy as Chad stood up, laughing a little as they didn't fall off instantly. "O-oi! We did it! ... Well, the lifting up part, that is." She laughed.

Breana grinned as the boy looked up at her, giving her the go signal to start painting. "Dontcha worry, with you being my legs, it might be a piece of cake!" She said, slowly warming up to the lad. She stretched out her arms, and, luckily, was able to reach the ceiling. She moved the brush with a long woosh of her arm, starting with a long wide streak of bright red. She was planning on painting, what she would think of as, a "Breana-style" rainbow. It might look like a normal rainbow at first, but one would realize that the colors are different: Red, green, and bright yellow. "What'd ye think of it so far, Chad?" She asked, just started painting the green streak.