Frigid Encounters Main Story

There was stark contrast between cub and fledgling. Physically this was obvious. They were perfect representations of all things light and dark. Beings that displayed the beauty of difference. Mentally- emotionally, obviousness, was a little less so. No one could could clearly see inside the human mind; unless of course they were blessed- or cursed- with the ability of Legilimency. Insight to how the little grey gears worked, could be given through observation of course, but such was a skill that required much refinement, and lots of people watching. To fully understand the length of their contrast, one would have to very carefully observe actions- and reactions- of the odd duo. Subtle glistens of contemplation, flashed in the silver surrounding black pupils. Conflict. The snowy-feathered raven was weighing rights and wrongs. What was the appropriate thing to do in the situation present? The inappropriate thing? It was a tug of war between heart and mind- between emotions and logic. Logic would appear to prevail in the end. Or had it been emotions? It was a hard thing to tell, when dealing with a thinker like Pericles. Like many thinkers, he was the type to put thoughts before his feelings; for the sake of practicality and preserving ones own usefulness.

Xailah was the opposite. If she wanted something, she took it. If she wanted to do something, she did it. If she felt something, she expressed it- subtly. Too much expression was a sign of weakness. Made you vulnerable. Logic, and reasoning were her restraints. Her ball and chain. The key that kept her cage locked. Where there was difference, there was also several similarities- as seen with Pericles and Xailahs quick investigation of the scene in front of them- as seen with their curiosity, which was a strong navigator for both children. At first, both were inclined to leave boy on the floor to the care of Aida, and some other fellow. They walked by the students, to get a better look at their surroundings.

Xailahs drifting demeanor reflected desensitization- whispered of detachment. The spike of alarm due to her friends flight up the stairs, had somewhat melted away. She was alert, but looked calm when finding he was alright. She had seen this scene before, or at least a conglomeration of things that when combined, made a similar image. This act, of what she assumed to be rage- possibly desperation, was not the worst she had witnessed by a long shot. Having watched, and had involvement with the death of a human being, Xailah could safely say that this was hardly the worst. A insensitive thing to think, but it was the truth, all things considered. Though now, she could only imagine the thoughts running through the head of her poor bird. Pericles scanned the overall scene, his eyes shifting from here to there- a small, nearly unnoticeable indicator of dis-ease was found in the swiftness of his glances. He did well with hiding his nervousness from his peers, but not well enough. He asked a question. Xailah gave an answer, noticing that her "maybe" did little to ease the boy. Xailah decided, that in this moment, it was best to show the boy that there wasn't much to worry about. The bad had passed. Presumably. They were only witnessing the aftermath.

With that in mind, Xailah broke from her friends side and confidently meandered to where the owls were crying. "Shhh," she whispered. It wasn't an actual attempt to quiet the birds, more so it was the natural reaction when encountering something loud. She rocked on her tippy toes, adding and removing height; trying to get a better look at all the feathered fiends. She would get a better look- at ones backside. Maybe standing beneath a bird when it was frightened, wasn't the best idea. A drop of white left the beast, and fell with a wet splat onto the tip of her boot. The lioness stepped back in surprise. Her hair reeled back in delayed reaction. She let a sad sigh out through her nose, upon remembering that her boots had been recently polished. The guano did little to faze her. Having bodily fluids dumped on you by a crazed, candy-eating gremlin could do that to a person. Pericles would come to Xailahs aid before she even had the chance to wipe the excrement from her shoe.

He produced a square of grey fabric from his pocket. A soft sound left his throat. He went to wipe the spot, but this only caused Xailah to step back, out of his reach. "Hör auf,*" she huffed, waving the boy and his kerchief away. "You don't have to come to my rescue every time something happens-" She hissed through the avian cries. Her speech was quiet enough to prevent drawing the attention of the others in the owlery. She was being a bit overdramatic. And honestly, she couldn't tell if she was playing or if she actually found him irritating in that moment. Both were certainly probable. Had the other students not been around, she might have allowed him to wipe her boot clean of owl guano. "I am quite capable of taking care of myself." The lioness continued to fuss, before promptly wiping the top of her footwear against a corner on the wall- as if to prove her point- and ushering the raven away.

They were joined by another student- a fellow prefect actually, one of the only two tolerable from Ravenclaw house. Xailah flashed the girl an unintentionally haughty smile. The girl had questions, just like the rest of them. Pericles would answer her, stating that they- he and Xailah- had only just arrived. Xailah nodded along to his claim, following with: "The room seems like it has been like this for a while- an hour, maybe two maximum. The owls would have quieted by now if it had been longer." She spoke, as if trying to cement their alibi. There was also the possibility of the cause of the ruckus still being in the room with the students, but, as the Gryffindor continued to scan around, she found nothing that implied such. Except for the person on the floor... A thought occurred- had the owls been crying for aid? Pericles would say something about needing to get help. If he looked the Gryffindors way, he would see her mouth the word "later".

Xailah would shuffle away from the owls, deciding they had no secrets to tell at the moment. Pericles went to investigate something that his house member was in possession of. His diverting of attention, would be the Gryffinors opportunity to act upon an itch she had been wanting to scratch. Now, during this whole time Xailah had been acting as if the person laying on the floor was not interesting. And- well, he wasn't. She had no interest in helping him. It wasn't that she lacked the empathy to do so- she just lacked the confidence. She didn't think of herself as a healer. She couldn't heal herself, so why try healing them? The funny- albeit sad- thing was, when it came to healing others she seemed to do it well. If she couldn't help the lad with his injuries, then the least she could do was help empty his pockets. Assuming he had something in them. Xailah walked up to the boy, and those standing around him. "Excuse me," She said gently, and lowered herself to kneel at the young mans side. The metamorph stretched out both hands, and patted the battered boy down very gently. Attention drifted between searching, and watching her surroundings. This was a bit of déjà vu for Xailah. Hopefully this boy had something other than dolls, smooshed rum cake, and photographs of blondes in his possession.

"Papyrus Reparo."

The paper, that blackened bit of char would grow as the darkness would be replaced with a clean, white piece of parchment. A letter was written in a delicate, fine script of navy ink. It was written by a practiced hand, one with the training of an aristocrat. A crease along the center, the letter was bisected neatly and appeared to be something that would soon be sent had this incident not served to deter him.

Sir VanCleaf;

I have discovered the terrible truth and I plead desperately for your assistance. Myself and my friends have been afflicted by an evil so deadly that the good wizards of Hogwarts cannot protect either of us. We languish from our wounds and while it may be too late for me, I would have them saved from this menace.

I thank you for your previous assistance regarding Miss Umbridge and bringing her murderer to justice. I know that it must have brought you great pains to do so and it is with great reticence that I must call upon you again. We have been forgotten and overlooked, left for dead with a slowly encroaching darkness that threatens to overcome us. I have come to believe that this dark magic can only be defeated by a symbol of true good, of pure intentions and dare I claim a holy power beyond that of religious indoctrination.

I have called upon Phinea Blishwick who promised me that she would muster the support of Aurors such as yourself, I feel fearful and compelled to seek you personally. I am well aware that members of the Ministry have possibly become involved in a terrible conspiracy that might sound mad but i assure you I am in my right mind. My blood has become inflected with a cursed darkness that had life. It creates not just monsters, but nightmares. It seeks my heart which will become as dark as the blackest night. I have made deals with vile creatures to gain time and opportunity to learn more - to learn of their motivations and intentions, of their power and their weakness. I will be damned for my efforts but I am now ready, I will share all that I know with you.

Vladimir Athanatos

Rifling through his pockets, Xailah would find bits and bobs of miniscule interest if she did not know what she was looing for. A leather pouch that was filled with dry fruit and nuts as well as a waterskin. Neither necessities one would consider 'normal' to find on a Hogwarts student. They wanted for little here in Hogwarts, food was plentiful as were snacks, even if Ravenclaws were not known for their tea and cookies.

She would also find an inkwell, the same indigo ink that she would find on the parchment Pericles had just magically repaired. There would be a few coins, several sickles and a galleon. This was not a robbery. Finally, a small, brass key that appeared too large and cumbersome to to be for a lock to a jewelry box but too short to be something that could be used to unlock a door. There was a word etched into the grip: Artisan. It was a well-known, brand name for trunks. The expensive sort that were owned by most of the purebloods, their boast was an "unbreakable lock" although that was disproven years ago. The unlocking charm is indeed ineffective on the trunk but that is because they key is required only to bar within which was spring loaded with the cryphex lock. There have been criminals, albeit they have been rare, that have been able to crack an Artisan trunk.

That was all his pockets had, but had she patted down the rest of him, she would find what was hidden on his person. A wand, a somewhat distressed shaft of wood. It had been cracked, likely during his fall but even before then it had seen better days. No, not cracked. How odd, it had a fissure in it. Then there were the bottles and the syringes and the needles. Yes, several needles, all capped and wrapped in a wax-covered cloth. A trio of empty bottles, all corked as well as two that had contents. One, a sluggishly moving golden liquid and the second a milky white. There were no labels on either, not that it was likely such was required as both had a rather distinctive appearance.

Mentions @Pericles Dralt
And indirectly the rest of the group

Small hands carefully tucked the letter signed to River’s father away in her pocket, before she reached down to pick up the burnt piece of parchment. Though no matter how hard she squinted at it, none of the writing would be of any help to the girl. Pericles seemed to have noticed her unsuccessful attempt and came up next to her. She offered him the parchment, and watched as he repaired the note. She was impressed, though internally scolded herself for not thinking of the solution. Curious to know what the note would say, she peaked over as the words now stood legible on the page. Grey eyes darted across the parchment, quickly reading the contents.

River’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion the further she read. Not much made sense to her in this letter. It spoke of dangers, and evil, something that was no news to the people of Hogwarts. Though which dangers were unspecified. Also names were mentioned, a few of which River could connect anyone to.
She glanced up at Pericles, hoping he’d finished reading, “What do you reckon happened to him?, she looked back at the boy on the floor before continuing. “What’s this curse he speaks of? I hope we’re not putting anyone in danger by staying here...”. Perhaps the mess surrounding them was created in connection to this curse, or perhaps someone didn’t want Vladimir to have the letter sent.

River glanced around at the crates in the room. All of them teared open. There were so many questions swimming around in her mind. Did Vladimir open the crates? If so, where were the things he was looking for? Did someone hurt him or did this happen from another cause? Had someone wanted to keep him from sending the letter, and keep him from asking for this VanCleaf’s assistance? If so, was this other person still around?
Afraid they were not alone, River scanned their surroundings, looking in the darker corners, and any possible spot for someone to hide. “If all this was done by someone other than Vladimir, you don’t think they’d still be around right?”,she asked the rest of the group.

Action: Look for anyone hiding in their vicinity.
Stats: Stamina 7 | Evasion 6 | Strength 4 | Wisdom 10 | ArcPower 6 | Accuracy 7
Race & Abilities: Dhampir (aura on) & Perfectionist

The pit in Nicholas's stomach widened. The sense of foreboding that had tugged at his subconscious now screamed at him, the visage that lay before him warning against being anywhere near the owlery and the boy that lay prone within it. The crates had been torn apart, ripped asunder, their contents cast to the four winds. All except, of course, for a missing piece, that which had left the impression upon the straw. Something had been stolen, and whatever had taken it had bene monstrous. Perhaps, not even human. Nicholas peered over his shoulder, witnessing the scene that was taking place, concerned faces surrounding the blonde boy, querying minds turned toward the piece of paper that they had found upon the injured fourth-year.

They spoke and questioned, and Nicholas remained silent, his mind quickly turning over the facts that had been laid before him. When the redheaded girl, a prefect that Nicholas didn't recognise, mentioned a curse, the younger boy felt his stomach fall deeper into the blackened pit into which it had sunk. He got to his feet, the terrifying realisation that danger truly was present at Hogwarts, and it could affect even him, not just his classmates in their daring attempts at finding excitement, threatened to damage his psyche. This wasn't normal, a boy was injured, the rook was trashed. Why was everyone acting as if it was?

He altered his posture and his positioning, now standing upright, straight and stiff and facing the other students. He had to share what he had found, at least, then they could go and get a teacher. That was the most sensible plan.

The prefect spoke again, and Nicholas finally registered who the boy on the ground was, Vladimir. The name was familiar, and at once it clicked, an upperclassman from Ravenclaw, named Vladimir? The boy's reputation was dreadful, it seemed he was a beacon of chaos, and not someone the young lion had ever wished to associate with, let alone find injured in an out of the way part of the castle.

"I don't think that this was someone..." Nicholas spoke up, his voice soft as he interjected, "The crates, they, well, they've been ripped into. Not with magic, with brute strength."

His eyes shot back to where he had gazed before, "I think we're looking at something, and whatever it was, it got what it came for."

He pointed, simply, at the impression that had been left, the proof that something had been stolen.

His thoughts spoken, he wordlessly turned his attention back to the room, were there signs of forced entry, of escape? From whence did the creature that did this come? He scanned his surroundings, decidedly on edge, his fear emanating off of him in waves. Some Gryffindor he had turned out to be. He was more lamb than cub, afraid of the concept of danger, even when there was no need to even consider the idea that it was imminent. Nicholas almost wanted to laugh at himself, he wouldn't be surprised if someone did, he was pathetic.

"Aren't you all prefects?" He queried the older students, daring not look at them, lest he miss something, "What are we supposed to do?"

The question was more rhetorical than anything, but still, he found himself hoping that one of the authority figures, anybody, could solve this mess.

Action: Looking for signs of forced entry or exit
Stats: STA: 7 | EVA: 6 | STR: 8 | WIS: 6 | ARC: 4 | ACC: 4
Abilities: Foulplay
Interacting with @River Dewlight, @Pericles Dralt and @Xailah Alptraum

@Xailah Alptraum | @River Dewlight | @Nicholas McCowan

Pericles glanced up at the hissed line of German. When their friendship was new, it would have been plenty enough to cause a retreat, for the unsocialized boy to hastily attempt to right whatever blunder he had supposedly caused. Now he knew better. Not only had he gained a grasp of what sarcasm meant, but could recognize when Xailah was performing dramatics, and even sometimes liked to nettle them as much as she liked to provoke his propensity for sheepishness. "If I don't, how can I be sure you'll do the same for me? It is necessary that I keep you in my debt." She said she could take care of herself, and he smiled, something less playful and more fond this time around. "I know," Pericles confirmed quietly. He held out the kerchief, bouncing it in indication that it ought to be taken. Instead he was waved away. It left him looking rather rueful, being denied what he had deduced to be the right course of action. It wasn't just the "gentlemanly" thing to do: she took care in her appearance and what she wore. He could not, in good conscience, allow the metamorph to kneel in bird poop. Just as quickly as they had begun, their dynamic of shenanigans came to a quick end. There were far more alarming matters present than the state of a friend's footwear.

A sigh of relief sounded as the paper pieced itself together, satisfying in spite of his general alarm. Going through another person's post was a dirty, rotten, no-good thing to do. Letters were one of those secret, sacred things that deserved privacy, a particular quirk that may have caused Pericles to avoid reading it, had it not been for the name written at the very top. He sucked a gasp between his teeth, shooting a tense look towards Xailah before breathing: "It is addressed to VanCleaf." In that moment, he was hooked. The duo had met the man to which this was addressed, and their introduction was neither pretty nor pleasant, but rather a day marked in infamy as Pericles' introduction to how horrifying Hogwarts could be. It had also left him with more questions than answers, questions that kept him awake as night, even in the warm safety of his family home. He read in feverish hope of gleaning some sort of answer to them, though his haste was also due to the fact that he should probably be helping the body on the floor rather than rummaging through his correspondences.

Peri preferred his personal space and respected that of others, but in that moment, he lightly leaned arm-to-arm against River so that they may both read. "He asks for his help, to save the school from the curse, as it is caused by a dark magic that 'can only be defeated by holy power beyond religious indoctrination'. What...? A 'darkness that had life seeks my heart, which will become as dark as the blackest night. I have made deals with vile creatures to gain time and opportunity to learn more - to learn of their motivations and intentions, of their power and their weakness. I will be damned for my efforts but I am now ready, I will share all that I know with you'...." Some information had spread through the student base. It was known that the thick golden potion could quarantine a curse, but had not cured it. Had the afflicted become worse over time, or had it plateaued? Vladimir seemed to suggest their demise was at hand, if not for this divine intervention. What could that possibly involve?

"He thanked him for helping bring Umbridge's murderer to justice, though it must have caused 'great pain to do so'.... I suppose, because VanCleaf was Mister Potter's partner. He has called upon Phinea Blishwick, as she evidently promised him the support of aurors, but believes 'members of the Ministry have possibly become involved in a terrible conspiracy'...." Pericles did not recognize the name, but he wasn't about to forget it now. It seemed strange that so bold a letter would be written without concealment. For a moment, he debated a second spell, Revelio. What if there was more to this message...? More questions. Never closure. Pericles experienced an unusual flare of discontent, his unquenched will to understand everything and anything burning behind a disturbed expression, but an entirely different course of action took place. He didn't understand all which Vladimir implied, yet he did feel sure of one thing: whatever the older Ravenclaw believed to be true, he genuinely seemed to seek help. Pericles would roll up the letter with a look of grim certitude. Unless someone stopped him, he intended to approach the nearest owl, and conclude Vladimir's work by sending it off. Merlin, how he hoped he wouldn't come to regret that decision.

They must have made quite the impression. Two prefects were reading the victim's mail, the third was rifling through his pockets. Pericles didn't seem to suspect what Xailah was up to, or at least, wouldn't allow himself to believe she was capable of mischief in that moment. Her intentions were infallibly pure. Looking her way while attempting to calm down the nearest bird, hoping that perhaps the excuse to leave the owlery would appeal to it, he called "Xai? Did you find something...?" From a short distance he glanced at the coins, and then at her, expression pointed as if to say Surely those don't count. Nicholas' voice cut through the internal din. The student was seeking direction, and ah- they were prefects. They were supposed to be the responsible ones. Right- enough snooping, more organizing. A clearing of throat preceded a projection of voice. "Please travel to your dormitories together." No one should risk being alone right now. "If you come across administration on your way, let them know what has happened. We will carry this student straight to the nurse." He didn't want to believe that whatever had done this was still nearby; just the question caused an uneasy squirm in his stomach.

Reading the letter aloud and, unless stopped, sending it.
Asking students to go to their dormitories as a group, and
announcing prefects will escort Vlad to the hospital wing.

Interacting with @Pericles Dralt / everyone else

The owlery was a massive place. If you thought about it, this was where all the schools owls were kept, possibly even ones that were resting after a long flight before a return home. It certainly wouldn't be easy to find her own owl in this mess, especially with the many owls that seemed to still be extremely disgruntled. Her eyes scanned what seemed like the entirety of the tower, skipping quickly over any white owls, as Borvo was a lovely brown with delicate black markings. Finally, a loud 'HOOO!" caught her attention, and she saw her little Borvo flapping his wings. He looked unhurt, which was a miracle whenever Borvo was involved, and she sighed in relief.

She was about to call him again, when she remembered the scene at hand. Right... there was a guy knocked out on the ground. Boxes ripped open. Straw strewn about everywhere. A girl she recognized from their frog choir auditions was leaning over the boy, searching his pockets. Another member, nay, the director of the choir, Pericles, was there as well, and was reading over some letter he had magically repaired. Wow... Starlee couldn't wait to learn that spell. Apparently it mentioned something about a curse? Starlee's mind raced. This term seemed to be proving more and more dangerous, and she didn't know what the best choice of action was.

The group continued to converse about the state of things - a boy mentioning that it didn't look like a someone did it, but more of a something. This began to make Starlee even more concerned. What type of thing would come in here and do this? It was then the boy asked what was on Starlee's mind. The prefect badges were clear to see. Starlee still trusted the staff to know what to do, so she nodded at Pericles' suggestion of returning to her dorm.

"Okay... yea... that's probably for the best." she said to Pericles. She agreed that if there was some sort of monster on the loose, it would certainly be best to travel in a group. While adventure tended to call her name, after her brush with death last month, she was keen to just get on out of there. She surveyed the group, unsure of who would also be travelling all the way back down to the depths of the castle. "I- er- is anyone headed down to the dungeons?" she looked around somewhat hopefully. It seemed like she was the only Slytherin there - she didn't recognize anyone besides the two from the Frog Choir. But perhaps there was a Hufflepuff?

Action: Being pretty useless, hoping someone will go with her

For Moderation:
Stamina: 4 - Evasion: 5 - Strength: 6 - Wisdom: 8 - Arcane: 6 - Accuracy: 5
Abilities: Healing Sage

There were, sometimes, solemn hints of... truth maybe, laced into their little jokes and jabs. Very clever, very minute hints, often made unintentionally. Accidental triggers. Easy things to gloss over. Or mayhaps they were purposely ignored, for the sake of keeping the mood light. It was sometimes hard to tell. Pericles response to his rejected assistance- while enough to evoke a haughty (but humored) snort- that quickly died while the raven spoke of his need to keep the cub forever in his debt. The idea bothered her deeply, and she took a step away from him. Weird. What were they supposed to be doing again? Ah. Right. Investigating. Xailah was gentle with her search of the boy that lay on the floor. He had already been beaten into a nearly unrecognizable pulp. No need to worsen his bruises by jostling him around in his unconscious state. The changeling held her breath as she fished from pocket to pocket. The bridge of her nose wrinkled in anticipation of a dreaded discovery.

Something small, and round would be felt. She pinched the object between her thumb and forefinger, running it through her digits with familiarity. This is an easy one- the shape was instantly recognized of that which belonged to a coin. She pulled the trinket from its cloth confines, only to confirm, that it was in fact some loose change. Odd she knew the object so quickly- perhaps less so considering she liked shinies, and coins were just that. The tight creases resting at her nose bridge loosened, as her hand went into a new pocket. And another. She tuned, from time to time, into the background noise to listen to the other students, and what they had to say about this whole mess. She would hear the soft crinkle of paper- a letter- followed by the equally soft sound of Pericles voice. She looked away from the self-appointed task of rummaging through pockets.

The eaglet announced that the letter was addressed to a VanCleaf. Upon hearing this, Xailahs face began to mimic the boys. Sharp inhale. A slight grimace. Anyone who might have glanced their way in that moment, would understand that the two of them did not have good associations with the name VanCleaf. "Finlay...?" The name curled into something of a question, as the cub muttered it- mostly to herself. Or August? Ugh. Which VanCleaf didn't much matter. Both were bad news. What could any0ne possibly want to contact either for? Pericles would continue reading the contents of the newly repaired letter; answering a few questions, while effectively creating more, the longer he read. So someone didn't want the letter getting to August. Considering the exchange the eagle and lioness had with the man, there might have been an understanding as to why. He wasn't exactly the most pleasant person in the world.

Xailah was a little surprised at first, when River asked about The Curse. Didn't- didn't she know? Had she not she heard about what happened to Slytherin last spring? The Gryffindor thought the subject as something that most had a vague idea of. Maybe the ginger thought there were other curses running rampant around the school? Whatever the case was, River would get the answer to her question. "You are only putting yourself in danger..." Xailah started quietly. It would make little sense to someone without a slight understanding of how the curse functioned. She would trail into an explanation. "The Slytherin Curse- thats what its often referred to as. Made its round last February in the sssnakes commons. It isn't your regular run-of-the-mill curse its," she paused, taking a moment to inspect a lump she had found on Vladimirs person, before continuing, "living- parasitic."

A metallic clank vibrated across the tile of the owlery, as something heavy slid from a pocket to the floor. A key. "There is a potion that keeps the infection at bay, but does not cure it. Our boy Vladimir has been cursed for a very long time." This could be seen through his appearance. The freshly cursed Slytherins only had dark veins that spidered across their skin. Vladimir- when viewed beneath certain lights- was almost completely black. He wasn't the only one though. His friend- what was her name? Mary- Marion? She was black as coal too in some places. Xailahs skin prickled, as she thought of the Masquerade, and what an eerie green light had revealed there. "When he mentions in his letter, that he will 'become as dark as the blackest night' he means-" She dampened her lips. She fell quiet again, thinking of a way to reveal further information without making it obvious that she knew far more than she needed. "He means he will become a ssshadow- a vessel to pass on the curse."

She would then murmur something else. At first listen, it would sound completely unrelated to anything that had been discussed. If one could listen past its obscure nature, they would understand that it was an indirect explanation of how the curse worked. Or, at least, Xailahs understanding of how it worked. "Do you know of the Jewel Wasp? Fascinating creature. It hunts roaches, and turns them into carriers for their larvae. The wasps venom turns their prey into... zombies essentially. The infected roaches no longer have control once the venom takes over their brain- their only purpose is to bring forth the next generation of wasps. Then the cycle repeats." Maybe it was a little too much for anyone listening. Xailah couldn't much help it. She liked her bugs. She looked over her shoulder, to shoot River an apologetic look.

The metamorphs pocket-frisking would come to a quick end. Her lips curled into dissatisfied pout. Vladimir had boring pockets. All Xailah had found, were: a few coins, nasty little dried fruits- or at least what she thought were dried fruits, she wouldn't be putting any in her mouth to find out- ink, and a key. The key was admittedly the only interesting thing. She liked keys. They opened things. She couldn't believe these were the only things Vladimir has been carrying with him. There had to be something else on his person. There had to. Not quite satisfied with her findings, she would look beyond the fabric cubbies on his clothes. Light fingers prodded at a the cloth that covered his battered frame; poked at the odd bumps that were visible through his woolen jacket. There they were. One by one, she pulled each newly discovered object from its hiding spot.

By this point, Xailah was elbow deep in Vladimirs jacket. She jumped a little when Pericles called to her. Her eyes widened a moment, as she scanned the items strewn about. Had she found something? Indeed. And not dolls this time. She let out a breath she had been holding, and chirred for a moment, before answering the boy. "Clues, Watson. Lots of tiny clues." Yes, she had found clues. The lack of specifics wouldn't be very helpful to the young man. She'd rather him come look, than have to explain the curios. But she would list off what she had found, just to humor him. "A galleon and some sssickles, a waterskin, ink, a key, and dried fruit," she shook the bag of nuts and dehydrated food bits, "Hungry?" It was far too late to cover what she had done. So, the list would continue.

"There is also a wand- Vladimirs I think- several bottles, needles, something milky, and something gold. A gold potion." She took both liquid filled bottles into her hands, and watched their contents slosh from side to side. Something clicked as she eyed them. "Wait- No. Not a Golden Potion." She would then do something incredibly strange. Cupping the vial of liquid gold in her hands, she would place it back where she had found it inside the battered birds jacket. "I did not find a Golden Potion." She repeated, as if trying to convince someone. Xailah did not like Vladimir. Not one bit. She had her reasons- but she didn't want to outright kill him or worsen his state. She understood that the Thick Golden Potion was just a Band-Aid potion. It was just a cover- something to postpone the spread of the black venom, and prolong the suffering of the afflicted. Gave them the hope that they would see a cure, before their time was up. The potion helped little- perhaps hardly at all given Vladimirs extreme condition. But a little help was all that was needed sometimes. Sometimes it wasn't. Maybe what she thought was an act of mercy, was only actually cruel.

River would comment something, that Xailah had been concerned about before she even made it to the top of the owlery to analyze the scene. A boy would chip in- a young Gryffindor cub- and share his findings: crates ripped apart, not by the use of magic. He suspected a something, and not a someone. He had a completely valid reason to. Course, a something, wouldn't explain the burnt letter. "Well, if its a something, then we have a much bigger problem on our hands. Best keep a Lumos at the ready." Lumos? How ridiculous. How was Lumos supposed to help? Xailah knew a thing. A very disturbing thing, that was only just setting in. She had heard through the grapevine (Flash Holmwood being the grapevine) that there was a sad instance of an owl turning into a shadow, via contact with contaminated blood. There were owls here. And Vladimirs blood was very contaminated. Assuming he had any blood left at all. Maybe the red, was all liquid night now.

The same boy- the Gryffindor- would seek guidance from the prefects present. Naturally, Pericles stepped in to give direction. He was the responsible prefect, it was better that he be the one to give instruction. A girl would pipe up. This one Xailah recognized from Frog Choir. She seemed like a sweet little thing. The snakelet would ask if anyone was headed to the dungeons. A quick glance at the surrounding group might have given the girl her answer. There weren't any other Slytherins around. Or Hufflepuffs. If no one offered to escort the girl, Xailah would give her the option to follow the prefects. "You can follow us, she gestured to the other two prefects, "down to the hospital wing- or at least until we find someone from your house to walk with you. If we haven't found anyone by then, I can take you to the dungeons."

But before anyone started leaving or trying to move bodies to the infirmary, Xailah needed to do a thing. A very bad thing. A very bad, very dumb, and very dangerous thing. Needles were among the several items she had found hidden on Vladimirs person. When she saw the objects she couldn't help but play with the idea of extracting some of the boys blood. The opportunity was just too perfect. While yes, her intentions were often very pure, they weren't always carried out in the... best of ways. What she was about to do, would be a prime example. She only ever wanted to be useful to someone. Here, she thought, she could be useful with aiding in the search for a cure. Childish thoughts. But that was what Xailah was- a child. Picking up one of the syringes, she would wipe the needle end on a clean sleeve; and inspect it, to make sure the wax wrapping wasn't hiding any liquids. A small hand would wrap around Vladimirs sleeveless arm, and reposition it. The cold metal of the needle pricked the young mans skin. A glance was sent to Pericles. She noticed his letter was missing (assuming it was sent with success). "I hope you remember everything in that letter, Pericles. We may have to look back on it later."

"It is addressed to VanCleaf."

@Pericles Dralt announced. He was familiar with the auror, involved in the Potter case. Suspicious twin brother. A story of duplicity that they never quite sorted out, but years ago he was the auror that was responsible for the capture of Harry Potter for the death of Dolores Umbridge. The link, the one between Vladimir and the auror being the fact that he witnessed a crime. We, his friends did, he was more an accessory to it all. They saw Potter do the deed, his wand was never recovered but @Xailah Alptraum of all people was believed to be in possession of the seemingly innocuous length of wood. Of course there were others with similar measurements found by others, either replicas or diversions. Tokens. Coincidences. Well, the former school nurse Fin, Finley. Finn, Finnley, whatever the kids used to call him, seemed to think it was real. Did that implicate himself or was he just 'holding it for a friend'? They had every right to feel apprehensive about something that was likely partially forgotten by now, but it only took a name to bring back that wealth of memories.

Peri leaned arm-to-arm against River so that they may both read. "He asks for his help, to save the school from the curse, as it is caused by a dark magic that 'can only be defeated by holy power beyond religious indoctrination'. What...? A 'darkness that had life seeks my heart, which will become as dark as the blackest night. I have made deals with vile creatures to gain time and opportunity to learn more - to learn of their motivations and intentions, of their power and their weakness. I will be damned for my efforts but I am now ready, I will share all that I know with you'...."

This was all stuff they already knew, well in part. The language seemed out of place, there were religious undertones to the words, rather than dark magic or curses, the work of an evil wizard and being damned. He also spoke of finality, yes of death. His own it would seem.

"He thanked him for helping bring Umbridge's murderer to justice, though it must have caused 'great pain to do so'.... I suppose, because VanCleaf was Mister Potter's partner. He has called upon Phinea Blishwick, as she evidently promised him the support of aurors, but believes 'members of the Ministry have possibly become involved in a terrible conspiracy'...." A name Pericles might not recognize but others might. This was a woman who worked for the Ministry, she was VanCleaf's partner and she had come in the company of VanCleaf years ago in search of the mask and glove. An investigation that did not appear fruitful in the end. She had not been seen again but for whatever reason she was the one Athanatos felt compelled to reach out to. Obviously he also must have had second thoughts or she never replied, which might be relevant but not the present point. Old names. Ministry aurors. He was not going to a teacher or to an upper classman, he was reaching out to the Ministry. Revelio might have said something more but it was quite possible that was all that the boy had to say. Those words were dangerous enough.

Merlin would fly away at Pericles behest - target one August VanCleaf. The letter would reach his hands for what good it might or might not do.

@River Dewlight had the grand fortune of avoiding much of the drama and heartbreak this school has had to offer over the last several years. She would read the contents of the letter which were echoed by @Pericles Dralt. That there was something terrible here at Hogwarts, hidden in the depths of the castle dungeon or the dark forest. Yet she betrayed herself if she never sought answers for their suffering.

“What do you reckon happened to him? River would ask Pericles. As she looked towards the felled teen, he remained unmoving.

“What’s this curse he speaks of? I hope we’re not putting anyone in danger by staying here...”.

River would inquire. It was a distinct possibility, someone else might be in here. A witness at best, a perpetrator or an opportunist at worst. Who or whatever did this, one thing was obvious - they wanted something, they were willing to hurt the Ravenclaw to get it unless someone had a conspiracy theory where he did this to himself and they had the power to do so. Vladimir had shown physical prowess at last year's Blossom Ball. He seemed to lack fear, perhaps it was cockiness or bravado but whichever it was it cost him some time in the infirmary as well as an unsent letter and a lost item.

"You are only putting yourself in danger..." Xailah warned River. "The Slytherin Curse- thats what its often referred to as. Made its round last February in the sssnakes commons. It isn't your regular run-of-the-mill curse its," most curses can be broken or contained but there were darker ones, ones that there was no know curse for. Bad blood, following someone for generations. Curses that addled someone from the inside. She would notice several lumps on Vladimir's arms, knots really. "living- parasitic."

She had it right, this was something different. Not like the generational curses that follow come families, leading to premature deaths or a transformation into a terrifying beast. No, this was something else, both a curse and an organism, a biological marvel and terror by any standard.

"There is a potion that keeps the infection at bay, but does not cure it. Our boy Vladimir has been cursed for a very long time... When he mentions in his letter, that he will 'become as dark as the blackest night' he means- He means he will become a ssshadow- a vessel to pass on the curse." She was close, not quite right but she was on the right track. She had seen things, evidence of how far the darkness had spread.

"Do you know of the Jewel Wasp? Fascinating creature. It hunts roaches, and turns them into carriers for their larvae. The wasps venom turns their prey into... zombies essentially. The infected roaches no longer have control once the venom takes over their brain- their only purpose is to bring forth the next generation of wasps. Then the cycle repeats." Closer actually, it was about reproduction. In a way, many of them would be mothers. Were mothers.

It was a wonder - did Vladimir rip open these crates himself with his bare hands only to then be overcome by an unknown force or was he taken out and then something was stolen. If so, what was taken and of course why.

Was this other person still around?

“If all this was done by someone other than Vladimir, you don’t think they’d still be around right?”

Words of caution. She would scan her surroundings. Perhaps whoever did this was still here.

River observes (specifically seeking if there is someone hiding)
Roll: 2

She would take a look around. There were overturned crates and discarded piles of straw. Writing spaces and windows but from the looks of things she would find nobody hidden.

"Xai? Did you find something...?"

Pericles would ask, having shared all he knew from the letter he had to wonder what was found by the badly battered young man who was obviously assaulted and in bad shape. Reading his mail and seeing what he had on his person was certainly the first priorities.

Vladimir apparently had boring pockets. All Xailah had found was: a reasonable sum of money for a teen to be carrying on their person, a delicious and portable dinner, ink, and a key. Of course that was only his pockets, there were things he had hidden. Compartments sewn in for a purpose beyond that of everyday items, her arm thrust elbow deep in the confines where she would find something hidden Peri's inquiry would give her something to talk about.

"Clues, Watson. Lots of tiny clues."

But what did they mean?

"A galleon and some sssickles, a waterskin, ink, a key, and dried fruit," she shook the bag and indeed it was a bag of cashews, almond, bits of dried cranberry and raisin. "Hungry?" Grats, you stole an injured man's dinner.

"There is also a wand- Vladimirs I think- several bottles, needles, something milky, and something gold. A gold potion." Yes, the infamous golden potion, what was rumored to be staving off death for the young man. "Wait- No. Not a Golden Potion." That would go back to where she never found it. "I did not find a Golden Potion."

"I don't think that this was someone..." the Griffindor @Nicholas McCowan interjected. "The crates, they, well, they've been ripped into. Not with magic, with brute strength."

The wood was broken, splintered but not from being bashed in. Nicholas was correct, the wooden walls or lids were ripped off and discarded carelessly and in haste. The bent, strained nailed still stubbornly gripping either the box or the broken bits of wood.

"I think we're looking at something, and whatever it was, it got what it came for."

Index extended he would point at one such vessel packed with straw whose innards were left exposed. There was something hidden here, something that was not only found but stolen. Whatever it was, it was large. About the size of two-palms, rectangular with rounded edges. The depth, well it was deeper than a fist.

Nicholas attempts to observe.
Roll: 9

He would look about himself. Forced entry - there was the door and an open window. A door that is never really locked and a window that was always open so that the owls can come and go as they pleased and needed. It would not be difficult for one to earn ingress into the Owlery.

"Well, if its a something, then we have a much bigger problem on our hands. Best keep a Lumos at the ready."

Odd how such a simple, basic spell could protect them from something capable of-- this? No, probably not this. Still, something bad, real bad.

"Aren't you all prefects?"

Yes, he was in the company of Prefects, kids like him with a taste of extra responsibility or authority. Not necessarily the greatest among them, they were for whatever reason children that caught their Head of House's eye. They were for whatever reason trusted and in some instances they were privy to a bit more of the strange happenings here in Hogwarts.

"What are we supposed to do?"

Some guidance would be nice. Were they supposed to solve this mystery? Help the guy that was beaten down by something Nicholas would not want to run into in a fully-lit alley. Break the curse. Find the stolen good. Deny the call of adventure, the actual heroes still needed to arrive.

"Please travel to your dormitories together." Peri would instruct. "If you come across administration on your way, let them know what has happened. We will carry this student straight to the nurse." By administration he likely meant an adult although considering the skill and professionalism of some, they might find greater value in some over others.

Pericles Keen Eye
25% chance -
Roll: 24 Success

Was there anything more that he could see. That was to be noticed that was somehow overlooked. Well, not much. But there was one thing he might have glanced upon as he let the owl loose. The straw on the window ledge mingled with splinters. That might explain why they did not cross anyone rushing down the stairs.

"Okay... yea... that's probably for the best." @Starlee Kennedy said to Pericles. The only problem was that she was the odd-man out. They were not from her house and she was certainly at the furthest point possible from her actual dorm and the safety a locked door promised. "I- er- is anyone headed down to the dungeons?" No, there was not really anyone headed down there and if they were, she should question their purpose and intentions. She was not thinking that far ahead.

"You can follow us," Xailah offered, "down to the hospital wing- or at least until we find someone from your house to walk with you. If we haven't found anyone by then, I can take you to the dungeons." How sweet and social. But first, before she helped anyone she needed to stab the unconscious man with a semi-clean needle.

Did she even know what she was doing? Probably not. There was a very particular process for doing this. There were risks. Well, that was a Vlad problem, not hers. Taking had a very linear sense of benefit for those with gains.

Picking up one of the syringes, she would wipe the needle end on a clean sleeve. Sterility be damned.

Make sure the wax wrapping wasn't hiding any liquids. It was empty.

A small hand would wrap around Vladimirs sleeveless arm, and reposition it. She seemed to forget about the tourniquet about the upper portion, something that should not stay on for long but was left on. It did make phlebotomy a bit easier.

Drawing blood was not as simple as jab a cold needle in the skin and expect blood to come back out. Maybe she looked, looked for a vein. If so, she would have some difficulty. A darkness beneath his skin. Winding, twisting, blackened veins normally hidden beneath the sleeve of his jacket. Only, there was an issue, little marks along his skin. Knots, yes that was the right word. Another term for this would be 'track marks'. Did Vladimir have a problem? No, not that sort of one at the very least.

His skin was thicker than one would have expected. His veins damaged but not by just the curse but repeated phlebotomy efforts.

Xailah attempts phletomy
Roll: 17

The vein felt solid, like trying to put a spoon through a tree branch. Effort, hard effort to feel a *pop*. Yes, entry into the vein. The needle threaded, well that would require a steady hand. The needle, had she not realized before was quite large, it looked like something one might use for yarn, only in this cast the straw-like implement was being used to procure something else.

What came would be sluggish and dark, like ink that crept into the clear glass syringe.

"I hope you remember everything in that letter, Pericles. We may have to look back on it later."

@Xailah Alptraum | @River Dewlight | @Starlee Kennedy | @Nicholas McCowan

The letter was shared aloud with an utter lack of resignation. Although Pericles presumed Xailah would understand its contents better than those present, it was a piece to the larger puzzle which the rest could- if so inclined- eventually connect. Approaching an unfamiliar owl with pitying eyes and a soft "Shhh", the lad managed to coax it onto a forearm. He stroked its nape feathers to calm it while listening to Xailah's findings. "Hungry?" she had asked. "No, thank you," he returned with a tongue-in-cheek crinkle of the nose. The key was an item of interest, but that was another path to another mystery: something that would need to be searched for. Peri elected to focus on the immediate mysteries for the moment, prying "You mentioned a milky substance. Do you recognize it? Is it a potion, or component?" Hopefully, Vladimir wasn't just literally carrying around a tiny jar of milk. Investigating on the move, multitasking between easing the owl, questioning the discovery, and doing his best to radiate reassurance towards Starlee. He had chimed in with Xailah, insisting "She's right. We'll walk with you, there's no reason to go it alone."

Finding the bird settled enough to willingly whisk away Vladimir's letter, he carried it carefully to a window ledge, hesitating there to slide a sorrowful smile back at Xailah's comment. "If I do forget," he mused, "at least we have others here who can help us remember." Sharing was deliberate, not merely meant for his fellow prefects on the scene. Young staff had collectively agreed in the recent meeting that there ought to be greater transparency with the students. Everyone in the owlery that night had as much a right to know as him. Granted, one could question whether or not he had a right to read someone else's mail or not in the first place, but that is neither here nor there.... Loosing the mail carrier into the night, Pericles paused upon spotting the debris littered along the ledge. A quizzical frown quirked into place. Nicholas had explained that those boxes were destroyed by a searching creature or being. Had they been broken with such immense force that bits of wood had flown this far, or were they dragged along? Nervously brushing his wand with one hand, the other braced against the window, brow furrowed in concentration as he leaned out and scanned the night.

After a pause, Pericles peered over a shoulder, drawing breath to remark only to freeze when he spotted a syringe gleaming in the low light. The youngest Dralt was the bearer of a particular trait, something which lay between the positive connotation of "loyalty" and its inverse: "bias". The regard he paid his friends lay in a gray space between the two. While he wouldn't outright encourage most delinquencies, there were many things he would turn a blind eye to. Whether picking pockets, going where they oughtn't, breaking their own rules, there were instances in which that keen sense of observation he so often utilized seemed to altogether disappear. In those moments he would look away, following some note of interest off into the distance. This time however, it seemed an exception had been breached. He had just claimed that the prefects would do the right thing and haul the unconscious boy off to the hospital for help. Seeing his friend literally stealing someone's blood wasn't as easy to overlook as rifling through coat pockets. "Xailah...." His voice was hushed, low yet tense, wrought with disbelief and teetering on the edge of shock. He stared as if watching her handle battery acid. An anxious glance flickered to and from River.
"What are you doing?"

(Active) Leaning out the window to survey the night.
(Passive) Low-key freaking out over Xai's impromptu phlebotomy.

Mature Psychological Themes

Aida had stood motionless, transfixed– unusual even for this strange young mage. Minutes upon minutes passed but she simply stared at the face of the crumpled Vladimir before her. How many people would really understand this behavior? Perhaps no one, not even Alexander, for only one or two people could have even begun to grasp why Aida’s personality had been changing for the last year. Certainly those present would not know that Aida was currently in the grips of a schizophrenic episode: one of several that had been overtaking her since the trauma of the Forbidden Forest and the subsequent fracturing of her reality.

Ever since she was adopted, instead of a slow progression into maturity Aida began crashing into adulthood like a man falling down a rocky slope. Like so many aspects of her rushed and premature responsibilities, Aida’s development of schizophrenia, too, was years before its time. The once quick-thinking and responsive youth now stood about unable to decide, hearing selective bits of conversation such as the contents of the letter, but not when Henry had addressed her nor when Pericles ordered the students back to their dorms. Instead, certain voices no one else could hear had been taking her attention.

Though Aida’s focus was chaotic, her mind was still sharp beneath the layers of internal conflict. Her violet-blue eyes watched Xailah put back the golden potion and say the startling untruth that she had not found it. This kind of lie tasted of poison to Aida, who already had to deal with enough piecing together of reality. Though she had respected Xailah before from their previous interactions, Aida was not about to cooperate with falsifying reality. Instead, her face flushed hot red with anger. Aida was no stranger to other peoples’ deceptions, and on a daily basis she tried to bury her discomfort with Alexander’s deceptions in the name of their friendship. This kind of inconsistency within herself was the real source of her anger, much more than Xailah’s behavior alone. For today at least, Aida’s loyalty to Alexander ran deeper than even her deep-seated hatred of lies… but Xailah was not Alexander.

Aida did not know much about field medicine beyond how to care for ranch animals in the Scottish backwater. She certainly was no ace at medicinal potions. Yet, Aida’s usually clearheaded and cautious behavior would now be trampled by her seething rage.

Spitefully, Aida bent down to take the golden potion back out of Vladimir’s pocket. Since the house elf incident, she strongly distrusted the local hospital, packed as it was with house elves. Even more, Aida had the suspicion that at least some portion of Hogwarts’s authority figures were a part of the greater conspiracy… witting or not. Aida did not want Vladimir to go back to the hospital like this. She had been watching him, and she knew that he knew not to eat the food. He was very careful. If he was rushed to the hospital now he might not have a protective system in place for himself. He could have his memories stolen and then Aida’s key to keeping her sacred promise would be shattered. Furthermore, his reality could come apart even more, and he was clearly suffering already. He had clearly been trying to cling to reality, and in that way, he was Aida's ally.

Without a thought but only on rash instinct, Aida attempted to open the golden potion and pour some drops of it into Vlad’s mouth.

If Aida had ever overheard the golden potion’s incantation during her weeks of stalking Vladimir, she would utter it now. If Aida did not know the incantation, she bit her lip ignorantly and hoped that it would work. She wanted Vladimir to come back intact… as much as he still could.

Action: Attempt to administer the golden potion. If Aida had seen Vlad or someone else administer the potion differently than described above, she follows that procedure instead.
Attempted interaction: @Vladimir Athanatos
Mentioning: @Pericles Dralt @Henry Llewellyn @Xailah Alptraum @Alexander Varellion