19 Jan 2021, 20:13
The Quaking Cleanse
Erin insisted she carried no wand, a claim Thomas did not feel the need to counter. The girl Thomas came to know was many things, a liar not among them. Only lying to herself, but that made her no different than the company she kept this discordant afternoon. Even if the girl resorted to violence, a roll of tape took precedence over an incantation. “Here I thought you’d like to see it.” Thomas quipped, mirroring her emotionless stare. A reference to the past that, without context, could inspire suggestive thoughts the reader should most certainly put to bed.
The boy had not forgotten their initial encounter, where the girl echoed a simple request to see Thomas’ wand. Followed by a rant about his potential, his value. Words that, at the time, assured the boy in a time of need. Likely a far cry from her present description of Lestrange, though what seemed unmendable had many avenues of repair. But the pair of Slytherins’ were just not willing to look.
Thomas did not flinch at her collection of spiteful statements, but he would take exception to her suggestion that Ami search her. The visual of Erin Ryan alone was enough to fuel his nightmares, he need not add with Ami’s frisking. “No need, I believe yo--”
With a grimace, Thomas shook his head in disapproval. “Ami...” Even bypassing the formalities of her last name to veer her attention from the blonde. “That’s really not necessary.” The smile forming along the Huffle’s lips solidified Ami’s interest in the veela. Thomas could only press his lips together with narrowed blue eyes as she lightly patted Erin, ultimately determining there was no wand on her person.
The girls went on to their respective duties, leaving Thomas to hone in on the mystery boy that opted to leave his questions unanswered. Thomas was a boy of few words himself, though the lack of response would receive a retort given the position he held over this nameless boy. Additionally, what he did say left Thomas with a distrusting twinge, the implications of his spoken words could be taken many ways, few of them positive.
“Right then, nameless boy. You can place your wand in the empty case.” Thomas spoke sternly, motioning to the empty wooden case that was intended for Ryan. After his refusal to state his name and offenses, it was likely he held opposition to authority. His response to this request would be telling. If he too required a watchful eye, the potential for disaster increases. But Thomas assumed the caretaker of all people would not place him in such an unfavorable position.
After Thomas provided instructions the trio would confoundingly adhere to his requests. Perhaps they met before this day, electing to play along with Thomas until the opportune moment. It was a scenario he had expected, and was prepared for. Though for now each attendee was quite tame. Howard employed a typical angsty scowl, Thomas would not need much to incite rage within the dhampir. Like dominoes, one push was all it took. “Don’t get lost.” Thomas nodded at Howard with a smug grin before turning to Ami.
She addressed him as Dr.Strange, a reference over his head as Thomas was not well versed in the mediocrity of muggle comics. “Lestrange is fine.” Thomas stated, blue hues flickering to the girl. The boy may have found amusement in the red-head’s cheery attitude that contrasted the typical mood of a student in detention. It left him scrutinizing if she had her own agenda to liven up this afternoon. Regardless, Thomas would dismiss it as they stood. As Miss Procoppio was viewed as the least threatening to his well-being. Her actions of loyalty that day were relatable. All that he could hold against her was the discomforting transfixation on Erin Ryan.
“I assure you they wouldn’t. Not sure if they can read anyway.” More shade at his counterparts, earned after their initial meeting that led to toppling bookshelves. Ami went on to reference a famed muggle rapper and candy, leaving Thomas with a bewildered stare into space. What exactly did the girl put in her tea this morning? “Are you..color blind?” How else could someone mix up M&M’s? If Ami continued to address Thomas on this needless topic, he would cut her off with a statement of finality. “Just, make an effort, surely you’re capable. Holler if you must.”
With a disgruntled turn of his frame, Thomas’ eyes found Erin silent complying, approaching the tampered water and placing it below a chair that she dragged near the window. The boy has learned through experience to be wary of where Erin was when in her company. Behind where he sat was not the ideal location, leading the boy to rise from his chair, walking around to the desk’s front. He took a partial seat, head squared between the two perceived threats, Howard and Erin.
The boy observed Howard’s approach to the drawer with heightening anticipation. Thomas has learned not to judge things at the surface in the magical world. As a pet locked within a drawer sounds uncharitable at best, though it was possible this drawer compared to the tents at summer camp. Standard in exterior, but when entered the confines betrayed what was seen on the outside. It was more than enough to shake his perception, at Hogwarts things are rarely what they seem to be. Was this justification for Kit’s abnormal habitat? Not exactly, more so a delay of judgement until the boy’s own eyes fell upon this pet.
An abrupt bang to his right tore his gaze from Howard’s approach and over to find Erin Ryan on the floor in a puddle, the tanned boy uttered a question of concern. The Slytherin could not have drawn it up better, to find Erin drenches in a puddle that contained remnants of the plant itself in addition to multicolored bonbons scattered across the floor. A misfire, as not enough time has passed for the water to initiate the reactive pop that may equate to the sound of a firecracker. Though the purpose Thomas placed them within was still achieved. And perhaps a weighted boot would be more than enough for a startling surprise.
Back to Ivy--Aside from a plant that’s rather bothersome, and makes you itchy, Thomas was not well read on the effects. The only thing he did know was the effects were not always instantaneous, in most cases several hours must pass before the reaction time begins. More than enough time for Thomas to sweep the affected areas with scourgify and remove any traces that he was to blame. Though the boy made a series of mistakes that he could only hope the right eyes would not identify.
Regardless, it was well worth leaving Erin Ryan with a pestiferous surprise in her dorm later this evening. Surely there were numerous magical means to mend, though the reaction should occur around after their curfew, leaving her to sleep in an itchy fit until aid would come in the morning. “Shame.” Thomas muttered, looking down at Erin while grinding his teeth in active effort to subdue a developing amused expression.
“I suppose you did not bring an extra change of clothes.” He wouldn’t put it past Erin, at times she had the emotional range of a toddler. Always situated somewhere in between whiny and angry. “The water won’t hurt you, carry on.” At least not yet. Besides her future rash and temporary chill from the isolated tower’s occasional cold draft that arrived from the ceiling, Erin would survive. The party’s survival in question was Thomas Lestrange...if Procoppio asked one more god damned question about the letters….
"Hey, 'Strange, if two people have the same last name but one has an extra letter, which one comes first?"
The boy buried in his hands in his face in dramatized agony, letting his pointer fingers rest on either side of his nose, thumbs below his chin and hands clasped together. His eyes would find the cold floor in a please kill me stare, before lazily traveling over to Ami--who’s consistent variations of address Thomas only clipped at his nerves further. “For the love of--- Just leave the files, Ami.” Thomas shook his head in a huff, beckoning her to the desk for a new task. “Nameless boy.” Thomas addressed the tan boy with a peculiar concern for Erin. “Perhaps you can read better than you speak, relieve Miss Procoppio please.” A slight barb, but mostly in jest given the boy refused to provide his name and offenses earlier.
Enter a rude awakening. Thomas halted further instruction, turning to witness another startling sound that came from Howard’s corner. A flash came from the drawer he opened, partially blocked by the boy’s frame. The ever changing figure initially appearing to be a blackish blur before it settled on...a woman? Thomas narrowed his eyes, tilting his head with a few steps away from the desk to get a proper glimpse.
HAG! Howard was calling her mum now, seemingly the relationship has evolved since the night in the dungeons. But Thomas was forced to reconsider with Howard’s brittle tone, stepping towards the woman in search of an embrace. Thomas too transfixed to realize he stepped near the office’s entrance and away from the desk. It provided him with a visual of a woman with a disdainful and rejecting glare, before shouting a series of dismissive remarks.
It left his lips parted in an astonished glare, ultimately unsure of who this woman symbolized but it encapsulated a feeling Thomas has felt before. Not an experience, but a feeling…a fear of his, to be rejected by those that you love. One we could all relate with. Thomas could only stand there frozen to witness Howard’s despair. At this moment any ill thoughts between the boys was an afterthought. Replaced with pity for what this could symbolize. Thomas was selfish to think his anguish was singular.
Howard retreated with each furning shout of rejection, Thomas’ eyes slowly traveling along with each step, but still frozen and without a shred of reactive thought. Ami remained near the desk where Thomas had beckoned her before. Erin and the nameless boy likely still remained on the opposite of the desk near the window, but Thomas would not notice if they had moved in to act until the moment they did so.
Howard’s backside eventually bumped into the desk, hands outstretched to find an unsuspecting Ami[Ami consented to be tossed]. Howard would obtain a tight grip, perhaps his claws were exposed from his threatened status, cutting into the fabric of Ami’s hoodie, possibly cutting into her flesh.[You two decide, just assumptions from experience.]
Ami was an athlete, and Thomas had firsthand experience of her strength when she tackled him on that rainy afternoon. Though Howard’s overwhelming emotion in his flight led the boy to easily overpower her, sending her towards the boggart in the process. With this replacement, the woman stopped dead in her tracks, her anger replaced with a dead expression, now lifeless eyes rolling back into her head before she transformed into a shadowy black mist...a transformation.[Ami your turn unless Erin approaches.]
Thomas would not stare at the woman that transformed for long, he could feel the red blood stained eyes flicker his way. “Howard…” A feeble utterance attempted to quell the dhampir’s rage, but there was no reversing this trend. As mentioned before, Thomas is now at the entrance of the caretaker’s office, hopefully leaving him with enough time to defend. He could not rely on the others to step in on his behalf, and as seen before the knockdown jinx would only delay Howard, not subdue him.
With a swift movement from his left hand, he retrieved his wand, still taking delicate steps towards the door as Howard sprinted[presumedly] to meet him. “Fumos!” He could not hit what he could not see, but it would not matter. Thomas spoke the incantation in unison with Howard’s arrival, a lunge and a swipe from the dhampir caught his casting hand. The claws left marks across the boy’s palm, his wand sent out of his grasp to an idle corner away from Thomas’ reach. With a yelp, Thomas clasped his hands together, pressing on this new wound that left blood dripping in between his palms and onto the floor below.
Smoke filled the room, perhaps doing nothing more than intensifying Ami’s own experience with the boggart, and making Erin and not Kit’s route to assistance unclear. Howard was still close enough to know exactly where Thomas was, well within striking distance. He was at Howard’s mercy, and the dhampir showed no signs of relent.
The boy had not forgotten their initial encounter, where the girl echoed a simple request to see Thomas’ wand. Followed by a rant about his potential, his value. Words that, at the time, assured the boy in a time of need. Likely a far cry from her present description of Lestrange, though what seemed unmendable had many avenues of repair. But the pair of Slytherins’ were just not willing to look.
Thomas did not flinch at her collection of spiteful statements, but he would take exception to her suggestion that Ami search her. The visual of Erin Ryan alone was enough to fuel his nightmares, he need not add with Ami’s frisking. “No need, I believe yo--”
"Procoppio would be very willing, actually,"
With a grimace, Thomas shook his head in disapproval. “Ami...” Even bypassing the formalities of her last name to veer her attention from the blonde. “That’s really not necessary.” The smile forming along the Huffle’s lips solidified Ami’s interest in the veela. Thomas could only press his lips together with narrowed blue eyes as she lightly patted Erin, ultimately determining there was no wand on her person.
The girls went on to their respective duties, leaving Thomas to hone in on the mystery boy that opted to leave his questions unanswered. Thomas was a boy of few words himself, though the lack of response would receive a retort given the position he held over this nameless boy. Additionally, what he did say left Thomas with a distrusting twinge, the implications of his spoken words could be taken many ways, few of them positive.
“Right then, nameless boy. You can place your wand in the empty case.” Thomas spoke sternly, motioning to the empty wooden case that was intended for Ryan. After his refusal to state his name and offenses, it was likely he held opposition to authority. His response to this request would be telling. If he too required a watchful eye, the potential for disaster increases. But Thomas assumed the caretaker of all people would not place him in such an unfavorable position.
After Thomas provided instructions the trio would confoundingly adhere to his requests. Perhaps they met before this day, electing to play along with Thomas until the opportune moment. It was a scenario he had expected, and was prepared for. Though for now each attendee was quite tame. Howard employed a typical angsty scowl, Thomas would not need much to incite rage within the dhampir. Like dominoes, one push was all it took. “Don’t get lost.” Thomas nodded at Howard with a smug grin before turning to Ami.
She addressed him as Dr.Strange, a reference over his head as Thomas was not well versed in the mediocrity of muggle comics. “Lestrange is fine.” Thomas stated, blue hues flickering to the girl. The boy may have found amusement in the red-head’s cheery attitude that contrasted the typical mood of a student in detention. It left him scrutinizing if she had her own agenda to liven up this afternoon. Regardless, Thomas would dismiss it as they stood. As Miss Procoppio was viewed as the least threatening to his well-being. Her actions of loyalty that day were relatable. All that he could hold against her was the discomforting transfixation on Erin Ryan.
“I assure you they wouldn’t. Not sure if they can read anyway.” More shade at his counterparts, earned after their initial meeting that led to toppling bookshelves. Ami went on to reference a famed muggle rapper and candy, leaving Thomas with a bewildered stare into space. What exactly did the girl put in her tea this morning? “Are you..color blind?” How else could someone mix up M&M’s? If Ami continued to address Thomas on this needless topic, he would cut her off with a statement of finality. “Just, make an effort, surely you’re capable. Holler if you must.”
With a disgruntled turn of his frame, Thomas’ eyes found Erin silent complying, approaching the tampered water and placing it below a chair that she dragged near the window. The boy has learned through experience to be wary of where Erin was when in her company. Behind where he sat was not the ideal location, leading the boy to rise from his chair, walking around to the desk’s front. He took a partial seat, head squared between the two perceived threats, Howard and Erin.
The boy observed Howard’s approach to the drawer with heightening anticipation. Thomas has learned not to judge things at the surface in the magical world. As a pet locked within a drawer sounds uncharitable at best, though it was possible this drawer compared to the tents at summer camp. Standard in exterior, but when entered the confines betrayed what was seen on the outside. It was more than enough to shake his perception, at Hogwarts things are rarely what they seem to be. Was this justification for Kit’s abnormal habitat? Not exactly, more so a delay of judgement until the boy’s own eyes fell upon this pet.
An abrupt bang to his right tore his gaze from Howard’s approach and over to find Erin Ryan on the floor in a puddle, the tanned boy uttered a question of concern. The Slytherin could not have drawn it up better, to find Erin drenches in a puddle that contained remnants of the plant itself in addition to multicolored bonbons scattered across the floor. A misfire, as not enough time has passed for the water to initiate the reactive pop that may equate to the sound of a firecracker. Though the purpose Thomas placed them within was still achieved. And perhaps a weighted boot would be more than enough for a startling surprise.
Back to Ivy--Aside from a plant that’s rather bothersome, and makes you itchy, Thomas was not well read on the effects. The only thing he did know was the effects were not always instantaneous, in most cases several hours must pass before the reaction time begins. More than enough time for Thomas to sweep the affected areas with scourgify and remove any traces that he was to blame. Though the boy made a series of mistakes that he could only hope the right eyes would not identify.
Regardless, it was well worth leaving Erin Ryan with a pestiferous surprise in her dorm later this evening. Surely there were numerous magical means to mend, though the reaction should occur around after their curfew, leaving her to sleep in an itchy fit until aid would come in the morning. “Shame.” Thomas muttered, looking down at Erin while grinding his teeth in active effort to subdue a developing amused expression.
“I suppose you did not bring an extra change of clothes.” He wouldn’t put it past Erin, at times she had the emotional range of a toddler. Always situated somewhere in between whiny and angry. “The water won’t hurt you, carry on.” At least not yet. Besides her future rash and temporary chill from the isolated tower’s occasional cold draft that arrived from the ceiling, Erin would survive. The party’s survival in question was Thomas Lestrange...if Procoppio asked one more god damned question about the letters….
"Hey, 'Strange, if two people have the same last name but one has an extra letter, which one comes first?"
The boy buried in his hands in his face in dramatized agony, letting his pointer fingers rest on either side of his nose, thumbs below his chin and hands clasped together. His eyes would find the cold floor in a please kill me stare, before lazily traveling over to Ami--who’s consistent variations of address Thomas only clipped at his nerves further. “For the love of--- Just leave the files, Ami.” Thomas shook his head in a huff, beckoning her to the desk for a new task. “Nameless boy.” Thomas addressed the tan boy with a peculiar concern for Erin. “Perhaps you can read better than you speak, relieve Miss Procoppio please.” A slight barb, but mostly in jest given the boy refused to provide his name and offenses earlier.
Enter a rude awakening. Thomas halted further instruction, turning to witness another startling sound that came from Howard’s corner. A flash came from the drawer he opened, partially blocked by the boy’s frame. The ever changing figure initially appearing to be a blackish blur before it settled on...a woman? Thomas narrowed his eyes, tilting his head with a few steps away from the desk to get a proper glimpse.
HAG! Howard was calling her mum now, seemingly the relationship has evolved since the night in the dungeons. But Thomas was forced to reconsider with Howard’s brittle tone, stepping towards the woman in search of an embrace. Thomas too transfixed to realize he stepped near the office’s entrance and away from the desk. It provided him with a visual of a woman with a disdainful and rejecting glare, before shouting a series of dismissive remarks.
It left his lips parted in an astonished glare, ultimately unsure of who this woman symbolized but it encapsulated a feeling Thomas has felt before. Not an experience, but a feeling…a fear of his, to be rejected by those that you love. One we could all relate with. Thomas could only stand there frozen to witness Howard’s despair. At this moment any ill thoughts between the boys was an afterthought. Replaced with pity for what this could symbolize. Thomas was selfish to think his anguish was singular.
Howard retreated with each furning shout of rejection, Thomas’ eyes slowly traveling along with each step, but still frozen and without a shred of reactive thought. Ami remained near the desk where Thomas had beckoned her before. Erin and the nameless boy likely still remained on the opposite of the desk near the window, but Thomas would not notice if they had moved in to act until the moment they did so.
Howard’s backside eventually bumped into the desk, hands outstretched to find an unsuspecting Ami[Ami consented to be tossed]. Howard would obtain a tight grip, perhaps his claws were exposed from his threatened status, cutting into the fabric of Ami’s hoodie, possibly cutting into her flesh.[You two decide, just assumptions from experience.]
Ami was an athlete, and Thomas had firsthand experience of her strength when she tackled him on that rainy afternoon. Though Howard’s overwhelming emotion in his flight led the boy to easily overpower her, sending her towards the boggart in the process. With this replacement, the woman stopped dead in her tracks, her anger replaced with a dead expression, now lifeless eyes rolling back into her head before she transformed into a shadowy black mist...a transformation.[Ami your turn unless Erin approaches.]
Thomas would not stare at the woman that transformed for long, he could feel the red blood stained eyes flicker his way. “Howard…” A feeble utterance attempted to quell the dhampir’s rage, but there was no reversing this trend. As mentioned before, Thomas is now at the entrance of the caretaker’s office, hopefully leaving him with enough time to defend. He could not rely on the others to step in on his behalf, and as seen before the knockdown jinx would only delay Howard, not subdue him.
With a swift movement from his left hand, he retrieved his wand, still taking delicate steps towards the door as Howard sprinted[presumedly] to meet him. “Fumos!” He could not hit what he could not see, but it would not matter. Thomas spoke the incantation in unison with Howard’s arrival, a lunge and a swipe from the dhampir caught his casting hand. The claws left marks across the boy’s palm, his wand sent out of his grasp to an idle corner away from Thomas’ reach. With a yelp, Thomas clasped his hands together, pressing on this new wound that left blood dripping in between his palms and onto the floor below.
Smoke filled the room, perhaps doing nothing more than intensifying Ami’s own experience with the boggart, and making Erin and not Kit’s route to assistance unclear. Howard was still close enough to know exactly where Thomas was, well within striking distance. He was at Howard’s mercy, and the dhampir showed no signs of relent.
We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be
Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 7 | Wisdom: 8 | ArcPower: 3 | Accuracy: 7
Ability - Evasive Maneuvers 2x
21 Jan 2021, 01:44
The Quaking Cleanse
She should have gotten that coffee first...
She extended her arms to either side as she wordlessly compiled. Thomas' "benevolent" change of heart. No need. Apparently Erin's word was enough. She would glance in Thomas' direction and watch his micro expressions. How thin his lips became. How he might have averted his gaze. Erin was true to her word, there was no wand on her person. "Need another go over, just to be certain?" Nothing was too petty for Erin or Thomas for that matter.
Her goal was to complete this tedious task and get on with her day. Muggle means of scouring pots, pans, toilets, even floors was met with a sense of disinterest. Polishing windows until they shined was comparatively simple, a view of the grounds from a high vantage point. From here humanity appeared as ants to her. Insignificant and passive, toiling and lazing about. The rime of frost on the grounds and the icy window fascinated her and left her hand chilled.
The reflection, the significance still unexplored, seemed as cautiously interested in the girl as she was in it. No sound or attempt to communicate. They were like neighbors that shared almost the same face. She lacked a Ravenclaw's curiosity, that burning desire to further investigate when there were more pressing non-mysteries afoot. It was not for fear or even idle regard of her reflection that she would fall. It was not for the nameless that had chosen to stand at her side, a quiet reminder of what she lacked and quietly coveted. Height. The irony that she envied something in those cannibals, how nothing was too high, beyond their reach. Where she might climb and stretch on perilous perches, they would simply extend and reach. Even the foreign guy's length irked her.
She would fall due to other interests, what was happening in corners besides her own. The unyielding floor and the regrettable instinct to break her descent with her hand. The jarring impact could be felt in her wrist but the Slytherin was no strange to injuries including broken bones. She had broken that very limb twice, once under Quinn's crushing grip. She would encircle her injured wrist which felt tender, even mildly swollen already in her better hand. A bit of pressure gave comfort rather than pain. She would bent her wrist, guiding the hand forward and back with her better. A shock of pain could be felt in her arm. "Good," she muttered out loud. Yes, the pain was good. It was merely a sprain.
"Are you alright?"
The boy, whoever he was had come down with her. The death witch was seemingly uninjured, Erin would scramble away when he tried to take a closer look at her wrist. Yeah, as if she as going to let a death witch close to her when injured. She might be hearing the call of the void, but she would choose when she would answer. "I'm fine! Get away!" She snapped with a sharpness that could leave a gash across that fine face. It was a lie, but that did not matter. She had a perfectly fine other arm and a pair of working legs. She could fight and she could run. she was stronger than most.
She would check with her eyes her potential exits: the window and the door. She would mentally measure the steps. How many steps she would need to take if she needed to make a expeditious retreat. She could feel the drafty chill from the window and let out a huff of air that came out in a hiss. Whatever...
“I suppose you did not bring an extra change of clothes.”
"Yeah, second pair of pants stuffed in my bra," Erin replied making a motion as if she was going to peel off the sleeveless tank. She did not, only part of her stomach was briefly exposed. She had an unusual amount of muscle for a teenage girl. Erin was far from a normal adolescent, something that was readily apparent. Thomas and Howard's virgin eyes would be safe for another day, the shirt stayed on as did the soaked pants.
She would not bother complaining, if anything Thomas would derive pleasure out of the discomfort or the cold she might have felt. She was not going to provide him an unnecessary boon. A bit of friction on her exposed arms would suffice and even if it did not, she was not going to say anything.
“The water won’t hurt you, carry on.”
"Says the pond dweller," a statement that would not make sense to Ami, Howard or Kit more than likely. They did not know about his trident scar. They did not know about the day he returned, half frozen and wet. The seizure he had in their common room. An alleged captive of merpeople? She was not even sure, but she knew only one truth in Thomas and that was that he is a liar. He had forged a pact or had some sort of existing relationship with hags. It was foolish for her to trust him, to seek answers, to dare care. He had achieved squashing what little sentiment she had, not that she was innocent. Hell, she believed she earned it, she just was not passive enough to accept her 'just deserts' even if she had otherwise given up.
She was going to carry on, let Ami pester Thomas into an early grave. Served him right. He would go on to instruct the nameless death witch to take over Ami's job, her endeavors a punishment more for Thomas than Ami. "Ami seems passionate about the alphabet, can't take that away from her. I think I have fallen in love with the death witch," the sarcasm dripped from her voice. [Sake of site rating, read sarcasm.] "Can't take away the newest love of my life. The guy with--" her hand did a small circle as if she was trying to find the right words. She gave no shits. "The whole not noticing the couple dozen of us in my year... or maybe the year above... for what four years?" She raised her brow as she gave Kit the deathwitch the side-eye. "Let me guess, you're name is Jack too?" [Could not resist.]
She knew that he was no student. She had an issue with mistaken identities, one that her peers made no effort to clarify in an act of juvenile cruelty perpetuated by the doppelganger. This moment only served to feed her rightful paranoia, this knowledge that she was being manipulated. That malevolent purposes existed within these stones walls and that Thomas was merely an avatar for their malcontent.
She was going to get back to cleaning. She wanted to be done here before lunch but she had a feeling that would not be possible. Drama seemed to follow her. Them rather.
Howard would get to feeding the caretaker's creature. Thomas was supplied the key that was logically supplied by the Caretaker himself. She paid the endeavor no heed. Howard was a big-boy, he could feed whatever the Caretaker kept in a locked drawer. A locked drawer should have been an indicator. Either the Caretaker was incredibly cruel, locking a living creature away, or something dangerous was kept there within. A link that she would not immediately make, not even after one added the fact that Thomas was given or somehow obtained the key. She could have walked away believing him tricked, that the calamity that would follow was solely the fault of the caretaker and not a collaborative effort of the two of them had it not been for the fact that Thomas disarmed those in detention.
This would be the final time Erin would stand in the same room as Thomas or Kit Paine.
A woman would manifest, smoke and mirrors... a spirit... a manifestation of Howard's dread. Erin felt nothing towards the image, disinterested in a woman that did not appear strong, she was a non-threat if she lacked the power to subjugate the Slytherin. Powerless over the girl, whatever this woman represented, she had power over Howard.
If she had a heart that could ache, it would. Rather, she merely identified a threat, a cause and a likely victim. A situation that was fabricated by Thomas LeStrange.
Erin's addled brain lacked the power of logic it once had. The madness had taken residence, she was driven primarily by instinct that was only a hair's breadth greater than that of a beast. She hardly realized that it was the back of a chair that she had gripped in her moist, ungloved hand. An improvised weapon.
Erin Smash? Yes, Erin smash.
The death witch had swiftly become an irrelevant. Caretaker Paine and Thomas LeStrange had become her, no their top threats. Howard was enraged, a glorious truth. He needed no abetment, only the opportunity to sate his rage. Ami, collateral damage as she was flung into the specter's path. A boggart that would twist its form and manifest into a viewer's greatest nightmare. It would be fitting that Howard's greatest fear was a woman.
Erin would rush the Boggart only to hear the raucous cry from the other side of the room, "FUMOS!" Smoke would spill from the tip of the discarded wand and fill the room with darkness and shadow. A snarl and a roar, Erin would swing the chair with her brutish strength. She would hit nothing as she could see nothing.
"Ami, find the windows!" The only thing she might be able to see, the faded light, through the thick smoke. "LeStrange is taking his vengeance too far, you're about to become concomitant damage!" Another heave of the chair, a grunt of exertion obscured by smoke. If it hit nameless the deathwitch, she would not lament. Ami's continuous chatter would prove to be a boon at this moment, the ability to echolocate.
She would not save Thomas from the consequences of attempted murder.
She extended her arms to either side as she wordlessly compiled. Thomas' "benevolent" change of heart. No need. Apparently Erin's word was enough. She would glance in Thomas' direction and watch his micro expressions. How thin his lips became. How he might have averted his gaze. Erin was true to her word, there was no wand on her person. "Need another go over, just to be certain?" Nothing was too petty for Erin or Thomas for that matter.
Her goal was to complete this tedious task and get on with her day. Muggle means of scouring pots, pans, toilets, even floors was met with a sense of disinterest. Polishing windows until they shined was comparatively simple, a view of the grounds from a high vantage point. From here humanity appeared as ants to her. Insignificant and passive, toiling and lazing about. The rime of frost on the grounds and the icy window fascinated her and left her hand chilled.
The reflection, the significance still unexplored, seemed as cautiously interested in the girl as she was in it. No sound or attempt to communicate. They were like neighbors that shared almost the same face. She lacked a Ravenclaw's curiosity, that burning desire to further investigate when there were more pressing non-mysteries afoot. It was not for fear or even idle regard of her reflection that she would fall. It was not for the nameless that had chosen to stand at her side, a quiet reminder of what she lacked and quietly coveted. Height. The irony that she envied something in those cannibals, how nothing was too high, beyond their reach. Where she might climb and stretch on perilous perches, they would simply extend and reach. Even the foreign guy's length irked her.
She would fall due to other interests, what was happening in corners besides her own. The unyielding floor and the regrettable instinct to break her descent with her hand. The jarring impact could be felt in her wrist but the Slytherin was no strange to injuries including broken bones. She had broken that very limb twice, once under Quinn's crushing grip. She would encircle her injured wrist which felt tender, even mildly swollen already in her better hand. A bit of pressure gave comfort rather than pain. She would bent her wrist, guiding the hand forward and back with her better. A shock of pain could be felt in her arm. "Good," she muttered out loud. Yes, the pain was good. It was merely a sprain.
"Are you alright?"
The boy, whoever he was had come down with her. The death witch was seemingly uninjured, Erin would scramble away when he tried to take a closer look at her wrist. Yeah, as if she as going to let a death witch close to her when injured. She might be hearing the call of the void, but she would choose when she would answer. "I'm fine! Get away!" She snapped with a sharpness that could leave a gash across that fine face. It was a lie, but that did not matter. She had a perfectly fine other arm and a pair of working legs. She could fight and she could run. she was stronger than most.
She would check with her eyes her potential exits: the window and the door. She would mentally measure the steps. How many steps she would need to take if she needed to make a expeditious retreat. She could feel the drafty chill from the window and let out a huff of air that came out in a hiss. Whatever...
“I suppose you did not bring an extra change of clothes.”
"Yeah, second pair of pants stuffed in my bra," Erin replied making a motion as if she was going to peel off the sleeveless tank. She did not, only part of her stomach was briefly exposed. She had an unusual amount of muscle for a teenage girl. Erin was far from a normal adolescent, something that was readily apparent. Thomas and Howard's virgin eyes would be safe for another day, the shirt stayed on as did the soaked pants.
She would not bother complaining, if anything Thomas would derive pleasure out of the discomfort or the cold she might have felt. She was not going to provide him an unnecessary boon. A bit of friction on her exposed arms would suffice and even if it did not, she was not going to say anything.
“The water won’t hurt you, carry on.”
"Says the pond dweller," a statement that would not make sense to Ami, Howard or Kit more than likely. They did not know about his trident scar. They did not know about the day he returned, half frozen and wet. The seizure he had in their common room. An alleged captive of merpeople? She was not even sure, but she knew only one truth in Thomas and that was that he is a liar. He had forged a pact or had some sort of existing relationship with hags. It was foolish for her to trust him, to seek answers, to dare care. He had achieved squashing what little sentiment she had, not that she was innocent. Hell, she believed she earned it, she just was not passive enough to accept her 'just deserts' even if she had otherwise given up.
She was going to carry on, let Ami pester Thomas into an early grave. Served him right. He would go on to instruct the nameless death witch to take over Ami's job, her endeavors a punishment more for Thomas than Ami. "Ami seems passionate about the alphabet, can't take that away from her. I think I have fallen in love with the death witch," the sarcasm dripped from her voice. [Sake of site rating, read sarcasm.] "Can't take away the newest love of my life. The guy with--" her hand did a small circle as if she was trying to find the right words. She gave no shits. "The whole not noticing the couple dozen of us in my year... or maybe the year above... for what four years?" She raised her brow as she gave Kit the deathwitch the side-eye. "Let me guess, you're name is Jack too?" [Could not resist.]
She knew that he was no student. She had an issue with mistaken identities, one that her peers made no effort to clarify in an act of juvenile cruelty perpetuated by the doppelganger. This moment only served to feed her rightful paranoia, this knowledge that she was being manipulated. That malevolent purposes existed within these stones walls and that Thomas was merely an avatar for their malcontent.
She was going to get back to cleaning. She wanted to be done here before lunch but she had a feeling that would not be possible. Drama seemed to follow her. Them rather.
Howard would get to feeding the caretaker's creature. Thomas was supplied the key that was logically supplied by the Caretaker himself. She paid the endeavor no heed. Howard was a big-boy, he could feed whatever the Caretaker kept in a locked drawer. A locked drawer should have been an indicator. Either the Caretaker was incredibly cruel, locking a living creature away, or something dangerous was kept there within. A link that she would not immediately make, not even after one added the fact that Thomas was given or somehow obtained the key. She could have walked away believing him tricked, that the calamity that would follow was solely the fault of the caretaker and not a collaborative effort of the two of them had it not been for the fact that Thomas disarmed those in detention.
This would be the final time Erin would stand in the same room as Thomas or Kit Paine.
A woman would manifest, smoke and mirrors... a spirit... a manifestation of Howard's dread. Erin felt nothing towards the image, disinterested in a woman that did not appear strong, she was a non-threat if she lacked the power to subjugate the Slytherin. Powerless over the girl, whatever this woman represented, she had power over Howard.
If she had a heart that could ache, it would. Rather, she merely identified a threat, a cause and a likely victim. A situation that was fabricated by Thomas LeStrange.
Erin's addled brain lacked the power of logic it once had. The madness had taken residence, she was driven primarily by instinct that was only a hair's breadth greater than that of a beast. She hardly realized that it was the back of a chair that she had gripped in her moist, ungloved hand. An improvised weapon.
Erin Smash? Yes, Erin smash.
The death witch had swiftly become an irrelevant. Caretaker Paine and Thomas LeStrange had become her, no their top threats. Howard was enraged, a glorious truth. He needed no abetment, only the opportunity to sate his rage. Ami, collateral damage as she was flung into the specter's path. A boggart that would twist its form and manifest into a viewer's greatest nightmare. It would be fitting that Howard's greatest fear was a woman.
Erin would rush the Boggart only to hear the raucous cry from the other side of the room, "FUMOS!" Smoke would spill from the tip of the discarded wand and fill the room with darkness and shadow. A snarl and a roar, Erin would swing the chair with her brutish strength. She would hit nothing as she could see nothing.
"Ami, find the windows!" The only thing she might be able to see, the faded light, through the thick smoke. "LeStrange is taking his vengeance too far, you're about to become concomitant damage!" Another heave of the chair, a grunt of exertion obscured by smoke. If it hit nameless the deathwitch, she would not lament. Ami's continuous chatter would prove to be a boon at this moment, the ability to echolocate.
She would not save Thomas from the consequences of attempted murder.
Just a trick of the lighting they said...
22 Jan 2021, 09:41
The Quaking Cleanse
"Right then, nameless boy. You can place your wand in the empty case."
Ah. Spiteful, the young man mentally noted upon acknowledging the order he was given. After a brief nod, he put his wand in the case that had been meant for another's, thinking. It wasn't as though he hadn't already deduced Thomas Lestrange was the spiteful sort from his observations of the prefect thus far, but it was intriguing to know just how little it took to make the other boy feel slighted. He wondered if Thomas was one of those people who let power go to their head too easily. Initially, that hadn't seemed like the case, but...at the very least, it was at least plain that the blue-eyed Slytherin quite often succumbed to his emotions. Even the demonstration as mild as Erin being patted down by the girl called Ami seemed to betray that much in the prefect.
When Ami began tossing about muggle pop culture references such as 'Dr. Strange' and 'Eminem', the No Maj-born student couldn't help the small shudder that shook his shoulders in a bout of silent laughter. It became even harder to restrain himself when it was clear that both references went right over Thomas' head. His question to Ami regarding whether or not she was color blind was the last metaphorical straw for 'Nameless Boy', earning a loud snort of amusement before he immediately clasped a hand to his face. He was still struggling to reign in his tremors of mirth when Erin began to chime in with her own brand of...humor, if that was what it was.
Well, at least she wasn't entirely shunning him even after she'd rejected his concern over her wrist. Maybe her ridiculous comments about having 'fallen in love with the death witch' weren't meant to be funny more so than a jab at how absurd she might have thought the 'act' he was putting on was, but it was still acknowledgement of a sort.
"Let me guess, you're name is Jack too?"
"Excuse me?" he responded with an incredulously raised brow, but the most mild curve of a sad smile bowed his lips. He lightly shook his head. "...You really do pay a great deal of attention to your schoolmates, don't you, Miss Ryan?" It was interesting to know. Not that he'd had much hope of fooling her in the first place, but it was informative to know just how little he'd been able to and why.
Curious that she had called Thomas 'pond dweller'. Was she indirectly calling him a toad or the like? It reminded him a bit of when he - no, Tymiko - had first met Thomas at the lake. They'd both seemed to enjoy the water. Perhaps it had been some insulting reference to whatever affinity the prefect might have had for the element.
Well, the olive-tan boy certainly held no affinity for it now. Another uncharacteristic scowl marred his features as he was reminded of the state of both his and Erin's clothes. Erin might not have had an extra change with her...but as it so happened, he did. Under other circumstances, he might have simply chosen to wait it out, but this happened to be one of the few situations the metamorpmagus did not tolerate well. He was not about to continue on for who knew how long the detention would take until he could get dry again. Having been born and raised in the desert, he was particularly susceptible to the cold already. He wasn't about to abide being wet on top of that.
"Water is more dangerous than you might imagine," he responded to Thomas' comment that the water wouldn't hurt them. Perhaps he'd simply meant Erin, but the nameless boy wasn't about to take chances. "Ever heard of 'hypothermia'?" As he tried to avoid the puddle from the bucket in an effort to get to the other side of the room, he noticed some strange little lumps dispersed in the water. Were those...chocolates? But...what were they doing in the bucket water?
He picked one up to examine it even as he continued to speak. "Miss Ryan, there are some spare clothes we can change into in the - " His sentence died on his tongue as he looked up to see Howard encounter the thing that had been locked up in the desk drawer. Dark brown eyes stared, unable to look away, as the scene played out between boy and boggart. It wasn't until Howard was able to get enough of a grip on what was happening to shove Ami toward the creature and then turn toward Thomas that the third boy finally found himself able to move again.
The boggart, at least in his mind, was not a true danger; not compared to the unpredictable dhampir student whose bloodlust and thirst for vengeance were unknown factors to the metamorphmagus. The prefect moved, if a bit late, suggesting he was aware of the danger he was in. The spell he performed with his wand spoke of less awareness of what to do about it. Not that Kit would have blamed him. He hadn't exactly expected Howard to go for the prefect, either.
While Erin seemed to grab for a chair, Kit darted forward and attempted to throw the chocolate-covered lump in his hand at Howard's face. Anything to distract the dhampir just then would have been welcome. Without taking his eyes off the pair of other boys, he leaned down to try to feel for some more.
"White!" he called, as loudly but as calmly as he could manage. "Howard White, Thomas Lestrange is not your enemy. Not this time." He attempted to lob another of the chocolate things. "Here. To me. Why not show me what that raw emotion of yours is capable of?"
Ow!
What had just hit him over the head? Was that Erin's chair? Frowning, he reached up to feel his head and wondered if it was slick with water from the previous fall...or blood. Had she done that on purpose?
There was no time to wonder or speculate. If it was blood, then perhaps it was all the better to draw Howard toward him with. Kit just hoped it hadn't given him a concussion or something because the last thing he needed right then was to get knocked out and forced to revert to his true form. He just needed a little more time. Just a little more time...
What a shame he hadn't studied Thomas' form well enough before then to mimic it properly. It would have likely made dealing with the situation a whole lot more simple.
With a heavy sigh, Kit got on his hands and knees, feeling around with reluctance in the shallow, contaminated water for any more of the chocolate-covered ammo he had been throwing earlier. Or, if he turned out to be extremely lucky, perhaps even Thomas' fallen wand.
That was, of course, if he didn't pass out from blunt force trauma to the head first.
@Thomas Lestrange, @Erin Ryan, @Ami Procoppio, & @Howard White
When you think you're alone - that no one cares and you don't matter, please remember: You matter to me.
23 Jan 2021, 16:24
The Quaking Cleanse
- was what he had said. And being 14 and naive, Ami believed that if she would holler, he would help her out. And so she had hollered, but she was met with a baffling rudeness that almost made her want to deck him in the face. But she restrained, deciding that the Slytherin prefect must have momentarily forgotten how to address his superiors. No matter, 'twas only a brief lapse in judgment, and she decided that it was a forgivable mistake. It certainly wasn't forgettable, however, and she made a mental note to talk to Jensen about it as soon as the opportunity presented itself.Holler if you must.
The Hufflepuff studied the prefect's exasperated expression as a feeling of hurt swirled with the sting of an insult, and even Erin calling her by name would not distract her from his words. Pressing her lips together as she gently set the files on the table, she finally managed to mutter after a moment of thought, "I know you think I am, and most people would agree with you, but I'm not stupid, Lestrange. It was an honest question." Her tone wasn't quite admonishing, but she certainly seemed more than a little hurt by the combination of his expression, attitude, and words.For the love of--- Just leave the files, Ami.
She waited for Thomas' instructions, her carefree expression wiped off her face and replaced with an apathetic stare. But instead of being met with another mundane, manual mission, she heard the shrieking voice of a woman.
Ami watched as Howard seemed to break down in front of this screaming woman who was clearly his mother. Poor Howard... Part of her pitied him, sure, but she felt mostly sympathy for him. To not have your mother by your side through your teenage years, supporting you? How horrible that must be... She and her mother didn't have the best relationship in the world, but who did?
And then suddenly Howard had lunged towards her. His nails seemed to claw into her skin through her hoodie, eliciting a yelp of surprise, rather than pain, from the redhead, not even realizing that Howard had moved from his corner. Ami was fairly light for her age, and between that and the shock, the bigger boy would have no problem shoving her towards his mother. "H- hi...?" she whispered uncertainly, her eyes wide in surprise. The woman smiled at her with a glint in her eyes, before she dissolved into a shadowy black mist. "Oh shit," she muttered under her breath, not fully processing nor understanding what was going on.
Safe to say, Defense Against the Dark Arts was not one of the Hufflepuff's stronger classes.
She would watch as the smoke churned in front of her with a horrified interest, watching as it slowly took form. Years ago in another detention for a much serious offense, she'd written a silly little poem about her fear of the unknown. But since her water-logged hug with Annabelle, she had leapt into the unknown to embrace it with open arms. And even despite that detention, she would hardly call that her greatest fear.
So the real question was, what did the fearless Ami Procoppio fear above all else?
The mist would churn before taking the form of a figure that would be familiar to most, if not all of the people in the room. Tall, broad shoulders... shiny blond hair... sparkling green eyes... well, that would have to be fourth-year Gryffindor, Scott Alexander, wouldn't it? But not just any Scott, oh no... that wouldn't make sense, would it?
If you asked any of her friends, especially Amadea, all of them would attest to Ami being one of the loudest people in the world, most especially when she whipped out her infamous banshee shriek. But as the bloodied, bruised, and all-but-dead figure of Scott limped towards her, the wail of anguish that escaped her mouth was unlike anything she'd ever heard before.
"SCOTT!"
And then Thomas' smoke started to pour through the room, heightening the experience between Ami and zombie-Scott, contributing to the fear and pain that she was feeling. She distantly registered in whatever part of her brain that was still attuned to the environment around her that Howard had lashed out at Thomas again. But everything else seemed to fade away, and it was just her and Scott.
"You..." Scott rasped.
"No, no, no, no..." she wailed, rushing forward toward her best friend. "No, Scott... Scott, what-"
"You failed..." he croaked, coughing and sputtering out blood.
"Tell me what I can do... Scotty please, what did I do, what can I do, please-"
Scott's cracked and bleeding mouth would morph into a wolfish grin. "How could you possibly save me now? You failed, didn't you? You were too weak, too scared... when I needed you, where were you? What kind of a best friend are you?"
This... this was fear unlike anything else she'd felt before. She could feel the tears already dripping down her face, and her chest heaved with the panic she was feeling. "Please, no..." she whimpered softly, the pain and fear clearly displayed in her face. "Scott, you- you don't mean that..."
"Oh, but I do mean it... Every. single. word," zombie-Scott would croon, gently patting Ami's head. Although she certainly wouldn't realize it, Scott's crisp and enunciated Irish accent had been replaced with one eerily similar to her own- albeit, colder, deeper, and much crueler. "Poor Ami Procoppio... too weak to save her best friend..."
"Too dumb to make her parents proud..."Ami...
"Too insignificant to impress Alexx...... find the windows!
"Too scared to do the right thing. Isn't that right?"Lestrange is taking his vengeance too far...
Somehow, without Ami even batting an eye, zombie-Scott's hands had made their way to her hair, and they yanked. Hard. Frankly, she had almost forgotten how strong her friend was. And even if she'd overcome her fear of the unknown, that certainly didn't mean she'd overcome her fear of people touching her hair. With an ear-shattering shriek, Ami fell to her knees at boggart-Scott's feet, the pain from his words and his actions combined nearly sending her straight into unconsciousness. Even the part-veela's words would have no effect on her now, this was a pain and fear that had sent her into a whole new plane of being. Nothing short of grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her like a bobblehead would pull her out of this now, that much was clear.... you're about to become concomitant damage!
With Ami sobbing from the sheer terror of the whole situation at its feet, the boggart would understand an easy target when it was presented one. "None of your friends like you, Ami," the voice would continue on, disdainful and haughty. "Amadea and Cecily? They can't even stand the sight of you. Why do you think they spend so much time with Adam? Quinn... well, he thinks you're a garbage captain. He and all the rest of your teammates regret ever letting you on a broom... they talk about it, too, behind your back."
"Stop it, stop it, stop it!"
"And Alexx? Oh, yes, Alexx... she hates you. She hates your living guts. You're nothing to her."
The words dripping from boggart-Scott's lips were knives, each statement cutting deeper and deeper into her until there was barely anything left. She could barely form a cohesive train of thought, let alone words in this state, but there was one thing she was absolutely certain of; with Howard and Erin trying to murder Thomas and the mystery boy already enamored with Erin, she could very well die in this room at the hands of this boggart, and none of the other four people here would care.
According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly.
stamina: 7 | evasion: 15 | strength: 21 | wisdom: 6 | arcane power: 3 | accuracy: 25
martial artist | spell spread | animagus
stamina: 7 | evasion: 15 | strength: 21 | wisdom: 6 | arcane power: 3 | accuracy: 25
martial artist | spell spread | animagus
28 Jan 2021, 01:55
The Quaking Cleanse
The room would plunge into darkness as smoke filled the area. The last thing Howard would see was the face of his intended target as he swiped wildly in Thomas’ direction. His claws would dig through flesh but it was merely a grazing blow, not nearly enough to appease his fury. Like a volcanic eruption the image of his mother had triggered his rage in a way he hadn’t felt before. All the the pain and hurt that he had spent years trying to repress came bursting through his chest. The anger would spew like lava as it fueled his actions and consumed his mind. Hot, bloody tears of fury streamed down his cheeks as his twisted aura seeped out through his pours. Sharp fangs would plunge through his gum line as he roared like a wild animal. Gone was his rational thought, his sense of humanity. Howard’s weapons were at the ready and they thirsted for blood and vengeance. The room would descend into a smoky cloud of chaos and madness.
Howard’s mind was consumed, unable to even contemplate the cruelty of Thomas’ trick. A pity that the two had pitted themselves against each other. A bond over shared trauma and relatable emotions could have forged a strong alliance between the pair, but it would not be. There was only anger and Thomas was the chosen one to blame. Like a tornado Howard would crash through the smoke filled room, every obstacle he encountered only fueling his action. He would continue to spin and destroy until every ounce of energy had been dispersed. Whether it be flesh or furniture the Dhampir would strike. Claws tearing at the flesh or smashing through wood and fabric as he searched for his prey.
Madness would not only come for Howard as Ami’s screams of fear and pain filled the room. Erin would do what came naturally and accept the chaos, plunging into it face first as she swung a chair with her incredible strength. Thomas and the nameless boy would be left to face the storm alone.
POP
A blast of chocolate confectionery would erupt in Howard’s face as one of the tainted water soaked bon bons exploded upon impact. “ARGH!!” He bellowed in both pain and fury. The irritable effects would soon swell his eyes shut, but would do nothing to stop him. Only when his name was called would it give him but the briefest pause. The nameless shite called to him. Took the blame for Thomas and challenged the beastly Dhampir to see what he was capable of. He would be the matador and Howard the bull as the red flag was waved. Challenge accepted...
Howard’s mind was consumed, unable to even contemplate the cruelty of Thomas’ trick. A pity that the two had pitted themselves against each other. A bond over shared trauma and relatable emotions could have forged a strong alliance between the pair, but it would not be. There was only anger and Thomas was the chosen one to blame. Like a tornado Howard would crash through the smoke filled room, every obstacle he encountered only fueling his action. He would continue to spin and destroy until every ounce of energy had been dispersed. Whether it be flesh or furniture the Dhampir would strike. Claws tearing at the flesh or smashing through wood and fabric as he searched for his prey.
Madness would not only come for Howard as Ami’s screams of fear and pain filled the room. Erin would do what came naturally and accept the chaos, plunging into it face first as she swung a chair with her incredible strength. Thomas and the nameless boy would be left to face the storm alone.
POP
A blast of chocolate confectionery would erupt in Howard’s face as one of the tainted water soaked bon bons exploded upon impact. “ARGH!!” He bellowed in both pain and fury. The irritable effects would soon swell his eyes shut, but would do nothing to stop him. Only when his name was called would it give him but the briefest pause. The nameless shite called to him. Took the blame for Thomas and challenged the beastly Dhampir to see what he was capable of. He would be the matador and Howard the bull as the red flag was waved. Challenge accepted...
Action: Lunging towards the sound of nameless’s voice. Claws first of course.
10 Feb 2021, 01:55
The Quaking Cleanse
Erin basked in Thomas’ apparent discomfort, in the process extending Ami’s seven minutes in heaven, encouraging an extended search for this overdone appeasement. Thomas opted out of responding verbally, not providing attention for the paltry attempt from the veela to unsettle. Lestrange would not allow for it, averting his blue eyes from the TSA level search of the veela. Thomas would stare idly at the floor, encouraging the pair of girls to get on with it with a sardonically stained comment. “Why don’t you just bring the dog in then?” A roll of the eyes with a scoff, encouraging Ami’s return to her assignment with a short impatient nod.
There was no reaction from the nameless boy, only silently accepting Lestrange’s request to disarm himself. It would appear he only had eyes for a one veela, not an uncommon symptom of the humankind, to bask in the beauty of others. Allow ourselves to be drawn to it, crave it, and appeal to it. A cloud of desires that overwhelms us, inspiring a line of decisions centered around the wants of such a beautiful creature.
Though beauty can be found in many forms, and it is not always visual. Past the surface of Ryan’s seemingly perfect visage a wickedness lurked. Possibly the result of a misguided soul that was not loved from a young age, who one day fell into a pair of hands that would reshape the story of your typical blonde beauty. Those with motives that rarely drifted from inciting chaos. Whether among the masses, or within one individual. They loved to ravage what was nice and pretty until it was gone. Erin Ryan was not beautiful as she appeared to be.
Thomas and Howard knew this to be true, having felt the acute sting of Erin’s hunt for a feeling, a way to simulate the feeling of being alive. One she eventually attained, delicately placed on her sleeve and evident for all to see with seasonal infatuations, usually for a boy named Jack. Her reach for a reciprocating paramour cut down each time, barred down by her cold reality. Misguided, spiteful, lost, and most of all, alone. Or so this is how Thomas saw it from the moment they met in the library. A false organ in a locked box may change Erin Ryan for a day, or a year. But how long before she came spiraling down to her inevitable form?
Though some do not learn this valuable lesson at such a young age, the ever-engaging hormones dictate a teenager’s feelings, often disregarding anything beyond what meets the eye. Ami Procoppio, yet another poor casualty of visual aesthetic, fell victim to Ryan’s charm along with their nameless acquaintance. For the benefit of everyone involved, the two would separate to their respective tasks, allowing for a welcomed silence.
All to be heard was a gentle swash of Erin’s infested rag against the glass surface, a shuffling of files from Ami’s corner, or Howard’s casual approach to one of two surprise guests. The bliss Thomas felt from the disgruntled position of his peers was swiftly interrupted with Erin’s fall and Ami’s letter struggles.[Not elaborating more as this was covered in the last post, just recapping to address the dialogue.]
Ami took exception to an absent insinuation that she was stupid, likely sourcing from her own insecurities about her intelligence. “I don’t think you are.” Thomas was in no position to declare the status of Ami’s intelligence, only seeing a glimpse of her intuition. Her work at the headliner inspired comfort in her ability to handle files, envisioning it was not her first time sorting through and organizing papers. The boy did not think her endless babbles were a reflection of her intelligence either. “Maybe you do.” Thomas implied a developing belief that Ami may have been in her own head, a seed planted by her peers for the aforementioned defects.
The boy turned to address a puddled Ryan, joined by the nameless boy, who appeared happy and willing to join her in this poisonous puddle. Firmly ensnared in Ryan’s web, though her interest in her male counterparts steadily littled with countless acts of betrayal. Swiftly becoming the type of girl that would say they are done with men, er boys...some of them looked like men. Yes, I don’t care what you say, looking at Howard, that’s a grown man. Well, half-man. Erin would be wise to try girls for once, ideally not hags, but a nice girl her own age.
She would go on to claim a spare of pants remained in her bra after referring to Thomas as a pond dweller. “Tissues would have sufficed.” The boy deflected the topic with a typical teenage barb. It was true, the boy cited the elusive sea creatures as a reason for his absence a year ago. In addition the lake was a place of solace, if Thomas was not at the castle, it was likely the place he would be. Thomas only pressed his lips together, refusing to engage the girl on this topic. Instead addressing her unusual place for spare clothes.
The not caretaker suggested a change of clothes, citing the treacherous waters as a reason for Erin to change. But where, exactly?
[The following mentioned in the previous post, now I’ll pick up where I left off from my last post.]
An enraged claw found Lestrange’s left hand, sending the wand rolling along the floor, lost in the cloud of smoke that traveled throughout the room. Some spilled into the crevices of the ceilings peak and the corridor that bordered the entrance. Through the smoke, Thomas could see a pair of agitated red eyes, predatorial mode now activated and hunting Lestrange to his presumed last breath.
The agitated sounds that arrived from the dhampir steadily inclined with each heavy step and harsh swipe in search of Thomas. Who was left with few options but to remain low to the ground, scooting his frame away from the sound of Howard and towards the door. It did not matter, Howard had every physical advantage possible, and without his wand, Thomas was left with few options to defend himself.
Pop. A sound reminiscent of a firecracker interrupted Howard’s aggrieved pursuit for Lestrange, the boy’s rumble with a bothered shout. An interventionist had arrived, though not of the divine sort. The voice that beckoned the dhampir belonged to the nameless boy, subsequently...taking the blame to absolve Thomas from Howard’s ire? Surely a surprise, but a welcomed one. Pop. The boy’s mind caught up to the source of these explosive sounds, the chocolate was of some use after all.
There was no time to revel in his extended consciousness, the dhampir’s frenzied grunts traveled elsewhere, giving Thomas the opportunity to find his footing. His wand, however, would remain lost like the others, though not enclosed but the boy would not easily find it in this sea of smoke. What Thomas would not need to see to gather the fatal impact, was Ami’s hardship. Erin called to her, urging her to the windows, though no movements would arrive from the location he believed she was.
Scott, Scott, Scott. Every third word of an impassioned call, first containing notes of concern that progressively evolved to her own brand of dismay. Ami was left alone with a boggart, an experience Thomas has had once before when he crossed paths with Miss Notresvace in the London alleys. It was not an experience he would wish on anyone, even Ryan and White, who’s squabbles seemed very small when contrasted by what their independent boggart induced horrors.
Thomas first identified the wound on his hand, a claw sized incision along his palm left him with a steady drip of blood. In his pocket, the boy found a cloth material that may have been traditionally used as a handkerchief. The way Thomas carries himself, the boy might as well carry an AED in addition to a first aid kit. He was a walking target, only made worse by an actively stirring tongue to bring others off-kilter. His evolution into a typical snarky snake.
The boy hastily wrapped the fabric around his hand, weaving a knot to keep it tightly in place. Then, he would wander through the smoke that steadily dispersed to find a broken Ami in a fit of sobs below...Ah, Scott Alexander. Of course Thomas mainly knew him from his reputation, additionally their shared space at the Headliner. Thomas could detect from the visual, that to be turned away by her friends was a terrifying thought for the girl. A concept that plagued Thomas in his first two years at the castle, a concept he has since embraced.
Ami would not earn the power of self respect today, not ready for the final challenge that zombie Scott Pilgrim presented for her. Thomas may have stood there a moment too long in witness to what makes Ami tick. But finally, the boy opted to act on her behalf. “That’s quite enough!” He spoke out, reaching to the girl’s shoulders in an attempt to pull her away from this scornful false representation. Though as he reached Mister Alexander’s head snapped towards Lestrange, a sinister grin formed upon his lips--Thomas froze in place.
While the features of Scott remained intact, his lips stretched outward with this smile, revealing a set of razor sharp teeth. His[assuming Hogwarts robes] ensemble initially changed to a black leather cloak and boots, finely polished as if constantly attended to. In addition, a black hood that loosely rested atop his head. A mask appeared in his grasp, hanging idly by his side. Ami and Thomas would not see the front from their perspective, though if they had it would snake eye slits, riddled with symbols they would not understand.
A cloud of mist quickly shifted this image, the robes transformed into ragged clothing, Scott’s back would rise to a discomforting height, his frame widened with long sharp nails growing at the tips of his fingers. Though his face would remain in this demonic smile, eyes honing in on Thomas. “Come give Auntie a kiss.” The impact lessened in the adolescent Gryffindor’s tone, but the reminder was enough to disturb Thomas to the point of retreat. He would grip the fabric at Ami’s shoulders, attempting to pull her to her feet[you decide success]. If she remained floored, he would attempt to drag her away from the boggart, secretly hoping for another’s intervention.
There was no reaction from the nameless boy, only silently accepting Lestrange’s request to disarm himself. It would appear he only had eyes for a one veela, not an uncommon symptom of the humankind, to bask in the beauty of others. Allow ourselves to be drawn to it, crave it, and appeal to it. A cloud of desires that overwhelms us, inspiring a line of decisions centered around the wants of such a beautiful creature.
Though beauty can be found in many forms, and it is not always visual. Past the surface of Ryan’s seemingly perfect visage a wickedness lurked. Possibly the result of a misguided soul that was not loved from a young age, who one day fell into a pair of hands that would reshape the story of your typical blonde beauty. Those with motives that rarely drifted from inciting chaos. Whether among the masses, or within one individual. They loved to ravage what was nice and pretty until it was gone. Erin Ryan was not beautiful as she appeared to be.
Thomas and Howard knew this to be true, having felt the acute sting of Erin’s hunt for a feeling, a way to simulate the feeling of being alive. One she eventually attained, delicately placed on her sleeve and evident for all to see with seasonal infatuations, usually for a boy named Jack. Her reach for a reciprocating paramour cut down each time, barred down by her cold reality. Misguided, spiteful, lost, and most of all, alone. Or so this is how Thomas saw it from the moment they met in the library. A false organ in a locked box may change Erin Ryan for a day, or a year. But how long before she came spiraling down to her inevitable form?
Though some do not learn this valuable lesson at such a young age, the ever-engaging hormones dictate a teenager’s feelings, often disregarding anything beyond what meets the eye. Ami Procoppio, yet another poor casualty of visual aesthetic, fell victim to Ryan’s charm along with their nameless acquaintance. For the benefit of everyone involved, the two would separate to their respective tasks, allowing for a welcomed silence.
All to be heard was a gentle swash of Erin’s infested rag against the glass surface, a shuffling of files from Ami’s corner, or Howard’s casual approach to one of two surprise guests. The bliss Thomas felt from the disgruntled position of his peers was swiftly interrupted with Erin’s fall and Ami’s letter struggles.[Not elaborating more as this was covered in the last post, just recapping to address the dialogue.]
Ami took exception to an absent insinuation that she was stupid, likely sourcing from her own insecurities about her intelligence. “I don’t think you are.” Thomas was in no position to declare the status of Ami’s intelligence, only seeing a glimpse of her intuition. Her work at the headliner inspired comfort in her ability to handle files, envisioning it was not her first time sorting through and organizing papers. The boy did not think her endless babbles were a reflection of her intelligence either. “Maybe you do.” Thomas implied a developing belief that Ami may have been in her own head, a seed planted by her peers for the aforementioned defects.
The boy turned to address a puddled Ryan, joined by the nameless boy, who appeared happy and willing to join her in this poisonous puddle. Firmly ensnared in Ryan’s web, though her interest in her male counterparts steadily littled with countless acts of betrayal. Swiftly becoming the type of girl that would say they are done with men, er boys...some of them looked like men. Yes, I don’t care what you say, looking at Howard, that’s a grown man. Well, half-man. Erin would be wise to try girls for once, ideally not hags, but a nice girl her own age.
She would go on to claim a spare of pants remained in her bra after referring to Thomas as a pond dweller. “Tissues would have sufficed.” The boy deflected the topic with a typical teenage barb. It was true, the boy cited the elusive sea creatures as a reason for his absence a year ago. In addition the lake was a place of solace, if Thomas was not at the castle, it was likely the place he would be. Thomas only pressed his lips together, refusing to engage the girl on this topic. Instead addressing her unusual place for spare clothes.
The not caretaker suggested a change of clothes, citing the treacherous waters as a reason for Erin to change. But where, exactly?
[The following mentioned in the previous post, now I’ll pick up where I left off from my last post.]
An enraged claw found Lestrange’s left hand, sending the wand rolling along the floor, lost in the cloud of smoke that traveled throughout the room. Some spilled into the crevices of the ceilings peak and the corridor that bordered the entrance. Through the smoke, Thomas could see a pair of agitated red eyes, predatorial mode now activated and hunting Lestrange to his presumed last breath.
The agitated sounds that arrived from the dhampir steadily inclined with each heavy step and harsh swipe in search of Thomas. Who was left with few options but to remain low to the ground, scooting his frame away from the sound of Howard and towards the door. It did not matter, Howard had every physical advantage possible, and without his wand, Thomas was left with few options to defend himself.
Pop. A sound reminiscent of a firecracker interrupted Howard’s aggrieved pursuit for Lestrange, the boy’s rumble with a bothered shout. An interventionist had arrived, though not of the divine sort. The voice that beckoned the dhampir belonged to the nameless boy, subsequently...taking the blame to absolve Thomas from Howard’s ire? Surely a surprise, but a welcomed one. Pop. The boy’s mind caught up to the source of these explosive sounds, the chocolate was of some use after all.
There was no time to revel in his extended consciousness, the dhampir’s frenzied grunts traveled elsewhere, giving Thomas the opportunity to find his footing. His wand, however, would remain lost like the others, though not enclosed but the boy would not easily find it in this sea of smoke. What Thomas would not need to see to gather the fatal impact, was Ami’s hardship. Erin called to her, urging her to the windows, though no movements would arrive from the location he believed she was.
Scott, Scott, Scott. Every third word of an impassioned call, first containing notes of concern that progressively evolved to her own brand of dismay. Ami was left alone with a boggart, an experience Thomas has had once before when he crossed paths with Miss Notresvace in the London alleys. It was not an experience he would wish on anyone, even Ryan and White, who’s squabbles seemed very small when contrasted by what their independent boggart induced horrors.
Thomas first identified the wound on his hand, a claw sized incision along his palm left him with a steady drip of blood. In his pocket, the boy found a cloth material that may have been traditionally used as a handkerchief. The way Thomas carries himself, the boy might as well carry an AED in addition to a first aid kit. He was a walking target, only made worse by an actively stirring tongue to bring others off-kilter. His evolution into a typical snarky snake.
The boy hastily wrapped the fabric around his hand, weaving a knot to keep it tightly in place. Then, he would wander through the smoke that steadily dispersed to find a broken Ami in a fit of sobs below...Ah, Scott Alexander. Of course Thomas mainly knew him from his reputation, additionally their shared space at the Headliner. Thomas could detect from the visual, that to be turned away by her friends was a terrifying thought for the girl. A concept that plagued Thomas in his first two years at the castle, a concept he has since embraced.
Ami would not earn the power of self respect today, not ready for the final challenge that zombie Scott Pilgrim presented for her. Thomas may have stood there a moment too long in witness to what makes Ami tick. But finally, the boy opted to act on her behalf. “That’s quite enough!” He spoke out, reaching to the girl’s shoulders in an attempt to pull her away from this scornful false representation. Though as he reached Mister Alexander’s head snapped towards Lestrange, a sinister grin formed upon his lips--Thomas froze in place.
Reducio
While the features of Scott remained intact, his lips stretched outward with this smile, revealing a set of razor sharp teeth. His[assuming Hogwarts robes] ensemble initially changed to a black leather cloak and boots, finely polished as if constantly attended to. In addition, a black hood that loosely rested atop his head. A mask appeared in his grasp, hanging idly by his side. Ami and Thomas would not see the front from their perspective, though if they had it would snake eye slits, riddled with symbols they would not understand.
A cloud of mist quickly shifted this image, the robes transformed into ragged clothing, Scott’s back would rise to a discomforting height, his frame widened with long sharp nails growing at the tips of his fingers. Though his face would remain in this demonic smile, eyes honing in on Thomas. “Come give Auntie a kiss.” The impact lessened in the adolescent Gryffindor’s tone, but the reminder was enough to disturb Thomas to the point of retreat. He would grip the fabric at Ami’s shoulders, attempting to pull her to her feet[you decide success]. If she remained floored, he would attempt to drag her away from the boggart, secretly hoping for another’s intervention.
We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be
Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 7 | Wisdom: 8 | ArcPower: 3 | Accuracy: 7
Ability - Evasive Maneuvers 2x
11 Feb 2021, 00:42
The Quaking Cleanse
If it displeased @Thomas Lestrange she would damn well make out with @Ami Procoppio in the middle of detention.
The only reason it did not happen was because Erin did not think of it. Where some girls fantasize about the 'perfect man' or woman, the physical traits often outweigh the psychological. Lust-driven, people usually think with a secondary organ that is not their brain during their tumultuous adolescent years. Yet lust was not something she was capable of, not really. Desire was a foreign notion, one that could be emulated but in both act and word was but a lie. All she had that even resembled human sentiment was as Thomas had concluded -- manufactured because the part Veela was not capable on her own.
It was like saying beauty was not there because of the curlers and the rouge, the gloss and the shadow. In truth, that is what she would have felt had she been given the chance, the capacity to all along. But she had learned something, a truth that she always knew but want betrayed logic -- people were unfathomably cruel. That she was also. She understood their potential but denied such realities in a childish bid for ultimately nothing. For a lie. A lie that came back to Howard all those years ago, the seed. He did not know it, but those years ago he had defeated her with 'love', such a rare and pure sentiment. Just, her death was delayed by a measure of years and would prove to be a pyrrhic victory for @Howard White also.
She wanted that.
Enough to make a deal - life without living was not a life at all. It was disappointing to discover that her efforts were for nothing, that such sentiments were rare, ephemeral and most importantly oft a lie. There was no need for a heart, to be allowed to believe a lie. There was no space for hope.
So she simply endeavored, hollow.
There was no hope. No sense of want. Termination looming, she did not suffer from apprehension or fear. It was just a series of actions, reactions, instinct and words kept on her part until she was no longer able.
Chaos. It was the perfect recipe for disaster - a room full of adolescents and a Professor that would rather play one than serve as council. Ami was as useful as a bottomless bucket in a sinking ship in this matter, another victim to Thomas' carelessness. She tried to get Ami to run, to get away. The choking fog cloaked her vision and made the nightmares that plagued her waking moment considerably worse. Respite and freedom promised by an open window, but Ami would not heed Erin. Nobody ever did.
She would hear the 'new guy', deathwitch, trying to get Howard's attention. Nameless was not an immediate threat until he tried to play matador to an enraged dhampir. Howard did not require much to beckon his wrath, it was what defined the sullen dark creature. The monstrosity that revealed himself differed deeply from the facade White used to don. The lie that was stipped away, revealing the dreadful menace before them today.
Thomas had earned his fate and Kit in whatever form he had chose had earned his as well. "Not a chance deathwitch," Erin announced. Howard might be lunging at the deathwitch but Erin was also. The girl did not have claws, not even the sort one manicures and files. She did, however, have a strong knee. She would also attempt to strike down the voice with a knee to the pelvis.
A cheap shot for sure, but Erin never claimed to be a fancy bitch.
The only reason it did not happen was because Erin did not think of it. Where some girls fantasize about the 'perfect man' or woman, the physical traits often outweigh the psychological. Lust-driven, people usually think with a secondary organ that is not their brain during their tumultuous adolescent years. Yet lust was not something she was capable of, not really. Desire was a foreign notion, one that could be emulated but in both act and word was but a lie. All she had that even resembled human sentiment was as Thomas had concluded -- manufactured because the part Veela was not capable on her own.
It was like saying beauty was not there because of the curlers and the rouge, the gloss and the shadow. In truth, that is what she would have felt had she been given the chance, the capacity to all along. But she had learned something, a truth that she always knew but want betrayed logic -- people were unfathomably cruel. That she was also. She understood their potential but denied such realities in a childish bid for ultimately nothing. For a lie. A lie that came back to Howard all those years ago, the seed. He did not know it, but those years ago he had defeated her with 'love', such a rare and pure sentiment. Just, her death was delayed by a measure of years and would prove to be a pyrrhic victory for @Howard White also.
She wanted that.
Enough to make a deal - life without living was not a life at all. It was disappointing to discover that her efforts were for nothing, that such sentiments were rare, ephemeral and most importantly oft a lie. There was no need for a heart, to be allowed to believe a lie. There was no space for hope.
So she simply endeavored, hollow.
There was no hope. No sense of want. Termination looming, she did not suffer from apprehension or fear. It was just a series of actions, reactions, instinct and words kept on her part until she was no longer able.
Chaos. It was the perfect recipe for disaster - a room full of adolescents and a Professor that would rather play one than serve as council. Ami was as useful as a bottomless bucket in a sinking ship in this matter, another victim to Thomas' carelessness. She tried to get Ami to run, to get away. The choking fog cloaked her vision and made the nightmares that plagued her waking moment considerably worse. Respite and freedom promised by an open window, but Ami would not heed Erin. Nobody ever did.
She would hear the 'new guy', deathwitch, trying to get Howard's attention. Nameless was not an immediate threat until he tried to play matador to an enraged dhampir. Howard did not require much to beckon his wrath, it was what defined the sullen dark creature. The monstrosity that revealed himself differed deeply from the facade White used to don. The lie that was stipped away, revealing the dreadful menace before them today.
Thomas had earned his fate and Kit in whatever form he had chose had earned his as well. "Not a chance deathwitch," Erin announced. Howard might be lunging at the deathwitch but Erin was also. The girl did not have claws, not even the sort one manicures and files. She did, however, have a strong knee. She would also attempt to strike down the voice with a knee to the pelvis.
A cheap shot for sure, but Erin never claimed to be a fancy bitch.
Action: Knee to the ****. Target: Kit.
Just a trick of the lighting they said...
14 Feb 2021, 06:06
The Quaking Cleanse
The imposter student didn't have time to register if the back of his head was wet with water or blood. He wasn't even able to understand the reason behind the cry of 'Scott', nor Thomas' and Erin's sudden focus on Ami. He had his own hands full, for he had called to summon Howard's attention and boy, had he gotten it.
As he still wasn't quite sure what was contained in the strange chocolate-like confections he was throwing, the tan-skinned youth's brow furrowed in confusion when an explosion of one seemed to cause Howard's eyes to swell shut. The situation was getting more and more out of hand by the second and he wasn't even able to follow why or how.
Nevertheless, when the dhampir seemed to pause for a fraction of a moment, the dark-eyed young man pushed himself up off the ground and back on his feet to face his opponent without the aid of any more mysterious explosions. He thought he was ready to take on the fourth year - only to realize Howard was not the only person in the room to view him as an enemy until it was too late.
Erin's knee came up and the black-haired pretender went down, crying out in sudden, unexpected, and intense pain. He doubled up on the floor, eyes shut tight. His dark locks strangely seemed to lengthen and grow as they began to trail into the shallow puddle that still drenched the stone ground.
The nameless boy groaned softly in his agony as he remained curled in on himself, absently awaiting whatever harm was to befall him by Howard's fury.
@Thomas Lestrange, @Erin Ryan, @Ami Procoppio, & @Howard White
When you think you're alone - that no one cares and you don't matter, please remember: You matter to me.
22 Feb 2021, 02:14
The Quaking Cleanse
What the hell was going on here? Howard's scream of rage directed towards Kit only added to the sense of confusion of what was happening around her, and the intensity of the entire situation. Was someone dying? Was someone going to attack her? Screaming seemed to be a reasonable enough response to this, right? So she screamed once more, a banshee wail that sputtered out into a ragged groan of anguish. She didn't know what to focus on anymore- between zombie!Scott, the tussle on the other side of the room, and all of the smoke in the room, she was completely and utterly overwhelmed by it all.
Had Thomas known that there was a boggart in this room? When he had sent Howard over to the drawer, had he already known that this room full of edgy teenagers would be faced with this monstrosity? Because if so, that was seriously messed up.
"Scott?" she whimpered quietly, staring at zombie!Scott with wide eyes. "Wh- what? I thought we've been over this, I'm gay..."
With Thomas' presence in front of the boggart, it seemed that Scott was unsure of what to say next. His chartreuse gaze had swiveled from Ami to the Slytherin prefect, and uttered a sentence that apparently rocked Thomas to his core- or, at least, enough to try and haul the giant of a Hufflepuff away from Auntie Scotty. But while Lestrange seemed strangely shaken to his core, Ami was shaken out of her stupor. Auntie? Did Lestrange have some serious family issues? She felt a wave of sympathy wash over her, despite the cold, cold fear that had its hand wrapped firmly around her throat.
Because she was a vegan and therefore superior to Thomas, with his meat-filled diet, she knew that there was no universe in which he could possibly pull her to her feet via his own strength. But she had been shaken from her trance, and now Auntie Scotty was looking significantly less scary than from moments before. In fact, hearing those words coming out of her best friend's mouth... it was honestly borderline comical. Thomas seemed less endeared by the comedy of it all, seemingly wanting to get as far away from the boggart as possible- and for good reason. Whatever the heck was in front of them, Ami wanted no part in it.
She rubbed at her tear-stained face and she stumbled to her feet, staggering slightly as her sweaty palms resisted the temptation to grab Thomas and throw him towards Auntie Scotty. Still drained from the brutal emotional beating she'd just suffered, her knees were remarkably weak and her arms felt incredibly heavy.
They needed to do something, anything- this clearly wasn't the real, actual Scott.
This was an enemy.
And if there was anything that Ami was excellent at, it was at dispatching enemies.
"Use your f****** wand, Timmy!" she yelled, elbowing the Slytherin prefect roughly. He had taken their wands, and Ami had willingly relinquished hers, which left her with her favored and preferred weapons- her fists. "Don't just stand there, do something."
Taking a shaky breath, she launched herself at the boggart, aiming to tackle it and pin it to the ground.
Similarly to Erin's previously shouted warning, Ami would not acknowledge nor even hear Thomas. Considering how easily she got distracted by things on a regular basis, she was strangely honed in on the horror in front of her. Only when the prefect touched her shoulders did she realize that maybe someone was prepared to help her, even if it was the very person who had put her in this situation in the first place.That’s quite enough!
Had Thomas known that there was a boggart in this room? When he had sent Howard over to the drawer, had he already known that this room full of edgy teenagers would be faced with this monstrosity? Because if so, that was seriously messed up.
Okay, maybe not as messed up as that.Come give Auntie a kiss.
"Scott?" she whimpered quietly, staring at zombie!Scott with wide eyes. "Wh- what? I thought we've been over this, I'm gay..."
With Thomas' presence in front of the boggart, it seemed that Scott was unsure of what to say next. His chartreuse gaze had swiveled from Ami to the Slytherin prefect, and uttered a sentence that apparently rocked Thomas to his core- or, at least, enough to try and haul the giant of a Hufflepuff away from Auntie Scotty. But while Lestrange seemed strangely shaken to his core, Ami was shaken out of her stupor. Auntie? Did Lestrange have some serious family issues? She felt a wave of sympathy wash over her, despite the cold, cold fear that had its hand wrapped firmly around her throat.
Because she was a vegan and therefore superior to Thomas, with his meat-filled diet, she knew that there was no universe in which he could possibly pull her to her feet via his own strength. But she had been shaken from her trance, and now Auntie Scotty was looking significantly less scary than from moments before. In fact, hearing those words coming out of her best friend's mouth... it was honestly borderline comical. Thomas seemed less endeared by the comedy of it all, seemingly wanting to get as far away from the boggart as possible- and for good reason. Whatever the heck was in front of them, Ami wanted no part in it.
She rubbed at her tear-stained face and she stumbled to her feet, staggering slightly as her sweaty palms resisted the temptation to grab Thomas and throw him towards Auntie Scotty. Still drained from the brutal emotional beating she'd just suffered, her knees were remarkably weak and her arms felt incredibly heavy.
They needed to do something, anything- this clearly wasn't the real, actual Scott.
This was an enemy.
And if there was anything that Ami was excellent at, it was at dispatching enemies.
"Use your f****** wand, Timmy!" she yelled, elbowing the Slytherin prefect roughly. He had taken their wands, and Ami had willingly relinquished hers, which left her with her favored and preferred weapons- her fists. "Don't just stand there, do something."
Taking a shaky breath, she launched herself at the boggart, aiming to tackle it and pin it to the ground.
According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly.
stamina: 7 | evasion: 15 | strength: 21 | wisdom: 6 | arcane power: 3 | accuracy: 25
martial artist | spell spread | animagus
stamina: 7 | evasion: 15 | strength: 21 | wisdom: 6 | arcane power: 3 | accuracy: 25
martial artist | spell spread | animagus
27 Feb 2021, 04:09
The Quaking Cleanse
Howard’s anger was like a pot of water left to simmer as it bubbled and swirled just beneath the lip. The emotion was always there, just waiting for the touch of heat that would send it into a rolling boil. He did his best to keep it under control. Not because he wanted to, but because he was expected to. His anger was his sword and shield that protected him both from the world and himself. It was so much easier to feel rage than it was to process the fear and the pain. To let it consume him was freedom from it all. Howard was a boy of two worlds and two natures, never feeling like he had a proper place in either of them. It was the very reason the Boggart had transformed into his mother as she represented both what he had lost and the rejection he felt. In that moment the pain swallowed him but his trusty weaponry wouldn’t let him down.
Thomas would feel his wrath first, the well timed smoke screen the only reason his left with just a scratch. However, his anger wasn’t a picky beast. As the nameless boy launched combustible chocolates and challenged the Howard directly it would prove enough to spare Thomas any additional injury. Although the tainted sweets would swell his eyes the Dhampir would draw on his other senses to hone in on his new target. His fingers would flex into claws as he rushed towards the stranger, but another presence would beat him to it. Howard’s sensitive nose would pick up Erin’s scent as the other boy grunted in pain before crumbing to the floor. Part of his mind wanted throw a fist bump her way for he knew her strength and the severity of her blows, but his rage was greedy. He would attempt to push past her and stand over the the crumpled mass of the nameless boy.
With his vision obscured Howard wouldn’t see the the changes to the other boys body, but he could potentially sense its location. With a swing of his leg he would attempt to repeatedly kick the other. “Wanna see what I’m capable of?!” KICK “Ya thinks that’s fuckin’ funny!” KICK “Who’s laughin’ now!” KICK
Thomas would feel his wrath first, the well timed smoke screen the only reason his left with just a scratch. However, his anger wasn’t a picky beast. As the nameless boy launched combustible chocolates and challenged the Howard directly it would prove enough to spare Thomas any additional injury. Although the tainted sweets would swell his eyes the Dhampir would draw on his other senses to hone in on his new target. His fingers would flex into claws as he rushed towards the stranger, but another presence would beat him to it. Howard’s sensitive nose would pick up Erin’s scent as the other boy grunted in pain before crumbing to the floor. Part of his mind wanted throw a fist bump her way for he knew her strength and the severity of her blows, but his rage was greedy. He would attempt to push past her and stand over the the crumpled mass of the nameless boy.
With his vision obscured Howard wouldn’t see the the changes to the other boys body, but he could potentially sense its location. With a swing of his leg he would attempt to repeatedly kick the other. “Wanna see what I’m capable of?!” KICK “Ya thinks that’s fuckin’ funny!” KICK “Who’s laughin’ now!” KICK
Attempting to stomp out the nameless one. Feel free to have all of these miss or to be crushed if you’d like!