Concerning worlds: Trapped. PV Closed

@Kaegan Deathmote

Reducio

Rolled a d4 to determine House Color!
1: Hufflepuff
2: Ravenclaw
3: Gryffindor
4: Slytherin

Number Rolled: 3
Gryffindor

If there was one thing that Piérre wasn’t, it was suspicious. Sure, I mean, if there was something off about something, then sure, there would be good reason to be unsure about what was off about that thing, but for the most part, Piérre Marchonné, the resident class clown and defier of the Hogwarts’ school/house dress code, was pretty easy to distract and redirect. Especially if there was something a little bit off about something. That was another thing that the boy was: paradoxical.

One moment he would be swathed in colors, never able to silence himself, and another moment he found himself drawn inwards in the midst of thinking, still chipper, but reserved. The boy didn’t have a schedule, didn’t have a way of making sure he did things at a certain time, a certain place. He wandered, and that wandering was what made him often hard to track; that and he would always change his color scheme from green to yellow, back to green, red, a splash of blue, blue again, but then red, blue, yellow, green... a scintillating, random event of what he was wearing (something that Kae probably would have noticed during his one month preparation time).

But in the midst of it, school continued as it continued, quiet at times, raucous at others, and Potions was the class in which Piérre tended to be the most ‘obnoxious’ in. There was a lot of stuff to touch, though he tried to stay out of Mister Barley’s sight. There was a lot to randomly investigate, mixtures to mix, methods to try.

Small explosions to be a part of.

Not saying this happened, of course... yet at the rate of Piérre’s ‘tinkering’, it had a high chance of occurring sooner rather than later.

But oh, there was indeed something curious afoot, and for the past month, Piérre had found small, shiny baubles about the dungeon’s vicinity, small trinkets and oddities which caught his eye at any given moment even when he wasn’t actively looking for them. Odds and ends that others might think junk; small thimbles, coins, phials, things that wouldn’t be noticed outright. Of course, it was a dungeon, and other things were to be found that didn’t quite merit a closer investigation or pickup, but Piérre was starting to appreciate the nature of the clumsy; the fact that in their loss he could gain their little odds and ends and made use of them.

On every occasion, whether after Potions or walking Figaro, Piérre found himself looking for these shiny little baubles, like a starling looking for nest materials or a seagull looking for scraps. His green eyes lit every time he found something shiny and forageable, slipping them into his little side satchel which usually held his books and other school supplies.

A small trash can had appeared by the door of the potions room, and despite himself, Piérre glanced into it every now and again. He was wondering if there was something else which would pop up in there, a new, little, curious bauble which the boy could scoop up and gather to add to his meaningless collection of odds and ends.

And then, one day, something must have happened. Waving goodbye to the last of his classmates, laughing a bit with them and then waving to Mister Barley before leaving, Piérre glanced at the trash can to find it overturned. Perhaps a rat had gotten into the can, knocked it over? Maybe a student had hit it on the way out. Piérre’s grip tightened excitedly on his messenger bag, tipping his head slightly at the mess as green eyes began to sparkle mischievously.

“Oh...” He murmured, stooping down and brushing a few meaningless pieces aside. Glancing up, he saw the bulk of the items. Glancing around quickly, Piérre trotted down the path, catching the nib of a quill which was in startlingly fine condition. Why would someone throw away something like this? It was perfectly functioning and worked perfectly as a spare in case your broke your other quill!

It was dark, the boy had to admit, dark enough that he had to strain his eyes and rely mostly on his luck and intuitive nature of where to find the shiny things in order to follow the trail of them which led... surprisingly far away from the classroom.

But as mentioned, Piérre was a boy of naïfness. Curiosity drove his actions for the most part, with logic struggling to keep pace. The prospect of the things, the possible use of them— not greed but rather intrigue— kept the boy moving forward. Maybe a student had accidentally had some of these things caught on their foot, or an animal had accidentally drug them along for a few paces. Really, the possibilities were endless.

A small hum was in the air, a melody which Piérre had never composed before. His fingers fiddled with the odds and ends, brushing off coins and stowing them away as he wandered. Sometimes, he would have walked down here, narrowly brushing with curfew just so that he could see these odds and ends. This was... almost becoming normal for him.

And then, there was the holy grail. Tightly wrapped in a bundle of what appeared to be wire, hooked unfortunately among the loops and ties, there was an article of jewelry. Something that the slightly klepto boy loved. I only say slightly because the Britalian usually knew his limits. If someone lost something, then that was something he could keep. If he took it... that was a different story.

But this bracelet, which was more shiny than the rest of the things that he had picked up thus far, was what really drew the boy in the most. It looked almost perfect, even in the dark and dim light. Almost... placed there for him to find.

Crouching down beside it, Piérre tried to observe the best way to break it out. The wire naturally was spread around quite a bit, and so he didn’t notice that there was a large loop which was circling where his feet were. Hands drew close, rethought, and then retracted. What was the best way to extricate the prize from the wiry vines? Eyes narrowed, brow creased. There had to be a way.

No sooner had fingertips brushed the puzzle, slightly tweaking an outlier wire which was a decent spot to manipulate, but there was the sudden feeling that something was shifting... and shifting quickly.

Green eyes glanced about wildly as the shift grew louder, and then Piérre’s eyes were drawn downward, noticing the length of wire around his feet. Quicker than he could blink, Piérre tried to jump, miraculously resulting in his left foot evading the wire...

Just in time for the trap to spring on his right, biting into black pants and suddenly ripping the remaining footing from beneath Piérre.

“I_ WAOU!” Was all he could exclaim as his back hit the ground on his fall, nearly knocking the breath out of him with a huff. No sooner had he been permitted respite on the ground, however, and the wire yanked again, this time managing to easily hoist the hardly hundred pound, skinny, and young second year off the ground so that he was seeing the world upside down. His satchel fell from him, landing upon the dungeon floor and scattering books, school supplies, the trinkets, and quills across the floor. A brilliant red inseam of the boy’s robes, denoting a Lion’s house was visible, and green eyes were a glittering mix of surprise and sudden humor.

He was breathing heavily for a moment, arms dangling towards the ground as his entire body stood opposite to gravity. For a moment, Piérre didn’t know what to do with his left foot, and it wiggled in the air for a moment before wrapping around his right ankle in a small attempt at comfort. “Wh_ wow.” He finally managed, his heart racing at a million miles a second. He felt himself slowly rotating as he dangled, gaining a small, brief, few meter view of the dungeons at a time as he turned from the pivot of his captured foot. “That was... haha... um, well, something.” He couldn’t help but laugh at his silliness. What in the world... how in the world?

For the moment, he was a bit stunned, but just fine, looking about himself, but not calling for help. A small glance at where he had been lifted from revealed that his white yew wand was on the ground and scattered a little out of reach. All Piérre had was his hands... disarmed and slowly spinning in the leg-catching trap.

@Kaegan Deathmote

On his next turnaround, Piérre tried to stretch himself as far as possible, but in vain, for he could not even touch the ground, let alone reach the length of bone white wood. Even if he had managed to magically reach far enough to snag it, it would have not come to fruition, for even as the tips of his fingers reached for it, a large rat scampered out of seemingly nowhere, took the length in its jaws and scampered back just as quickly as it had come. Well... now what? He was upside down, unarmed, and still no further than when he started. He could have tried to wriggle out, but the Boyd dint necessarily trust his ability to flip himself onto his hands and knees in the length of a one foot drop. He would have, more than likely, hit his head, resulting in another concussion perhaps.

As it were, though, the boy didn’t need to wait long, and instead an upside down ghost of some sort, or a wraith, drew close, the same rat which had stolen the Jester’s wand heeling close by. The boy’s breath caught for a moment, expecting the worst as it slunk close. Even in the moment, he was petrified, still hanging limp, watching with widened eyes as if he were anticipating the conclusion to a magician’s trick.

Yet, even in the midst of the startled sensation, the rising insecurity of his situation, the visage of this mysterious dungeon-dweller, there was something recognized. Though most everything was changed just as the second year had changed, there was a startlingly familiar voice. A voice that the boy had not heard in over a year, yet came to a realization nonetheless.

He was told not to make loud noise. A hand which fluttered towards him, and then back away again. Piérre spun once more, trying to snag a wall or touch the ground to stop his momentum. He wanted to see his old friend. He was told that it was a threat. What kind of threat? Even if Piérre had wanted to make noise, he doubted that he could. His heart was doing somersaults, in the best of ways. So this is where he had been hiding! It seemed that perhaps the time here had been a bit unkind, but it seemed that Kaegan had flourished; adapted.

In response, Piérre shook his head ‘yes’ in response to the alleged threat. “Of course, your Highness.” He whispered as quietly as he could manage: not hastily, but promptly. His eyes kept flicking to the rat periodically, admiring the little friend. Good thing that Piérre had not chosen to bring along Figaro to his classes. That would have resulted in more confusion with the little Bengal wanting to chase the little critter around.

There was the sound of rustling papers, wrought form a leather book, and the Jester’s attention was retrieved as he listened to the words of Kaegan with ever-increasing curiosity. Let’s just say that being kidnapped had not been something that Piérre thought he would get crossed off his bucket list so early. Didn’t mean he was opposed to it. He heard his name return, the small title he had addressed himself playfully as when he had first met the Master of the Silent Castle. Somehow, hearing it again, hearing it embellished, made it more real, almost realer than when Piérre had first fabricated it. It sounded... like his.

Kaegan followed Piérre’s spinning motion, the boy still trying to touch the ground to stop his spinning. Captive. Had Kaegan been planning this out? This was certainly a twist of fortune, but not unwelcome. Giving up completely on trying to stop his momentum, Piérre resigned himself to making eye contact with the emancipated boy, still in the Jester’s mind an odd reflection of himself. The eyes had changed outwardly, duller, almost sheenless, and yet there was an element of something else; the purpose of this encounter.

Captive...?

The boy nodded, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to, perhaps the blood in his head clouding his decision making. A promise, just like the one he had avowed on Hallow’s Eve that long year ago. “Yes.” The smallest twitch of a smile, a brightening of face which negated the fear for long enough to let himself relax. “I agree.” He kept his voice low at Kaegan’s desires, his hands now finally found themselves clasped behind his back at the elbows, still pulled by gravity in a sort of awkward twisting of his shoulders which stretched them comfortably. He was... startlingly at ease.

And that feeling would extend to Kaegan and his pet as well.

Calming Presence has been Activated; Kaegan and Voice are chosen Allies

@Kaegen Deathmote

This was all very strange, but evidently his careless and composed reactions had induced a bit of gracious return from the boy who has trapped him so cunningly. Piérre watched the rat hastily scamper up the rope and chew at it, barely giving the boy enough time to catch himself on his tumble down.
He landed shoulder first, rolling once before gaining his footing and bringing himself to his knees to look up at Kaegen.

Green eyes continued to glitter curiously, half-wondering what these words were. A 2-C? Was that explained in the little book that the lad had seen while he had been spinning? Was it something to be avoided?

Kaegen spoke again, requesting help. Piérre did remember that moment, a year ago--how time seemed to pass so quickly-- when he had told Kaegen of traversing the realms as if there was a door to be opened and walked through. Stages of being, personality, mentality, physicality. It was true that Piérre could walk through each, he felt he was many people at any given moment, the same as his wardrobe. The pale Dhampir's voice was hoarse, and the boy was certain that he had not heard that wracking cough last year. Thing jad changed indeed... perhaps not all entirely for the better.

At the somewhat jumbled threats at the end, Piérre couldn't help but lrt a small smile spread. It was a little entertaining to the Jester. These were all terrifying threats, yes, but something about them seemed a bit... offended. It was elusively funny, though for the moment the Harlequin couldn't divine exactly why.

Instead, he nodded, beaming. “Quite a roundabout way to ask, but yes.” Piérre rose to his feet, brushing himself off. He wanted so badly to hug the boy, but a quiet voice silently bit him wait. Not yet, not right now. Soon.

Thr Jester swept one foot behind the other, bending his leading knee in a strange, flourishing bow not terribly unlike the one he had given to the Master of the Silent Castle when they had first met. One year later, but every court needed their Fool.

“In what way should we begin?”