26 Jun 2018, 07:07
You...
ABANDONED TOILETS,
SECOND FLOOR.
SECOND FLOOR.
The hallways were crowded, students moving through the spaces shoulder-to-shoulder, voices raised to be heard over the numerous other conversations taking place. A literal mass of books, bags, robes and endlessly different features. Amid the chaos, a lone figure stalked, his shoes thumping loudly as he kept a quick pace. Silver-blue eyes were narrowed, glaring daggers, seemingly ignoring the students he passed; the masses weren't of interest, they didn't matter right now, only a single individual was dominating Sebastian's mind, and he finally knew where to find her...
"Move," Sebastian snapped, as he pushed past a Ravenclaw, knocking the boy aside as a surprised cry sounded.
"Hey!" The other student shouted, barely keeping his books in arm. "Watch it!"
It had taken Sebastian a few days to track down enough information from people to determine where Erin Ryan spent most of her time, which had turned out to be regulated to several key locations. Each one was secluded, and altered based on the time of day; and combined with the use of a certain map Sebastian owned, which proved very advantageous in locating specific people in Hogwarts, he was able to finally find Erin's movement pattern. Part of him suspected she was aware of his attention, and was making her movements very obvious, but Sebastian didn't care nor mind, as regardless of how easy - or hard - it was to find her, there would be a confrontation.
The Slytherin rounded a corner, several students stumbling out of the way with blinks of surprise, as the boy kept moving. This hall was less crowded, and the access to the stairs was considerably easier, as Sebastian took them two at a time, small legs carrying him up effortlessly in his rage. At the floor he needed, the Slytherin checked left and right, before turning toward the latter; the abandoned toilets were technically meant to be unused, but it was kind of an unofficial official secret among the student body that they were a good place to get up to no good.
As the boy neared the location, he paused. One thing Sebastian had learned from his parents was to approach situations with a controlled, analytical manner. When emotions took over, mistakes began happening, and the boy would be damned if he was going to give Erin the satisfaction of seeing him flustered and reacting like a fool. No, she would see Sebastian as few had seen him, and then one of two things would happen... she would back down, or Sebastian would destroy her socially, academically and authoritatively.
No one will take her seriously by the time I'm done, Sebastian thought to himself, eyes glinting at the thought. I kind of hope she resists...
But, that wasn't as important presently, so much as simply finding her and being alone.
Sebastian let out an exhale, and reached up to put a hand against the old door. And opening it, as he thought back to the series of events that had brought the pair to this situation, he couldn't help but sneer. It had been during the Slytherin celebration, on the lake when sharing a boat, where Erin had tried to manipulate Sebastian into a reaction; and finding the boy unwilling to be goaded, had resorted to performing a foul act that had caused a disruption, and left Sebastian in a predicament that required he jump through hoops to clear his name. And now, having finally proven his innocence, the Pure-blood planned to make sure Erin knew future attempts would not go unpunished, and that he would ensure to bring the full weight of his resources down upon her indigo-shimmering head if it happened again.
With a solid push, Sebastian opened the door to the bathroom. It was just as he recalled from the last time, with the stalls arrayed around a central basin, the tiles dirty and cracked, dust covering much of the surfaces. The basin was a clear centerpiece, designed in such a way that it drew all focus from the remainder of the bathroom itself, right down to the small details - the silver faucets, decorated snake heads, and other flourishes. Still, for Sebastian, it paled in comparison to the attention that fell on the lone individual in the area, someone very familiar...
"You..." Sebastian muttered, his eyes narrowed, as he gave a thin smile. "We have unfinished business."
Without waiting for a response, the boy stepped into the bathroom area and closed the door in his wake, zeroing in on his focus of disdain, the lone girl that stood before him... and with a quick flick of his fingers, locked the same door, barring outside access.
Sebastian Leeds
Sta: 5 | Agi: 8 | Str: 1 | Con: 7 | Arc: 6 | Acc: 8
Sta: 5 | Agi: 8 | Str: 1 | Con: 7 | Arc: 6 | Acc: 8
26 Jun 2018, 14:10
You...
Erin was alone as she often was. She chose to be alone of course, she drove most away and those that sought her out often never did so twice. Erin was a peculiar child, something her roommates could attest to, she rarely spoke but often watched as the girls planned their shopping excursions, vacation period at the end of the school year, or the 'exotic' locales they wished to one day visit. Their interactions hollow and meaningless, they claimed to be excited, some would even cite adoration for each other or a particularly 'handsome' boy from muggle or wizarding media but she felt nothing come off of them. Their words, like their worlds were shallow and meaningless and therefore they were without value to her also.
There were small nuggets of gold in this river of filth of course. For a brief time she had found herself enamored with DeWynter, a fellow Slytherin pure-blood. Not in a romantic sense of course, how could she love a boy with the depth of a puddle. However, he was a rare exception to her, she did not need to make him feel anything because he made her feel for the first time. In fact, he was the progenitor of this, all of this in fact. Before then, there was nothing except the bland concept of existence. She was mundane and average, like the rest, here to learn, create social bonds and excel in a society that she did not know enough about. She would say she 'felt' happy or sad but these words were only concepts to reflect the situation that she is in -- be it good or bad.
She had never felt any true sentiment so she never grasped the fact that she never felt, but the signs were there in her casting or lack thereof. Magic is an act of passion as much as it requires the use of the proper incantation and movement of a wand, at least for her in any case. This could be seen in children, their first incident with magic is often reckless and an expression of self-preservation or extreme emotion. Casting came easier with age, the regulation of emotion her parents would claim. The moment her magic first surfaced was in a moment of cruelty that she was the perpetrator of, however it was not her rage but that of the other child's that fueled her magic. She did not understand it, not then of course but her parents did. They were distant and of course never explained, perhaps her condition was genetic. Magical study was of course limited after that incident so many years ago, limited until she of course entered Hogwarts.
Her magic subsisted from their fervor, trepidation, anger and despondency. She had no special power or skill to take, but rather she was learning to emulate the agitated youths in their emotional turmoil around her. The irony of this was the fact that she was feeding off these preteen's angst, making their useless lives worth something at the very least. Anger was an easy emotion to manipulate, she had a knack for making others angry. She could read them, force them into a corner and coerce them to lash out. She was often successful and from their outburst she would feel, perhaps she was more empathetic than she was credited for as it was only then that she felt, when that roiling rage rolled off of them in waves and set her tiny toes a curl.
Sebastian Leeds was her newest plaything. Dull as a dishtowel and emotionally distant, his blunted affect and role as Slytherin's most recent Prefect drew her to him. As time went on, Erin's tastes were becoming more unsavory. Teasing Hufflepuffs about the smell of barbecue, pointing out an oddity in a pureblood to question their lineage and simply harassing her peers had become humdrum and stale. In a way she was an addict, seeking a greater high in a dangerous game only she was playing.
She tried to set the Prefect off as she had most before, the usual efforts which included digging into a pureblood's family line and seeking what exists in every family: weakness. His outward reaction appeared collected, however books should rarely be defined by their cover. She saw something swirling, creeping and crawling just beneath the surface in that boy to make him worth her effort. She felt something different off of him, perhaps it was only in her own head but let's be frank here she was not wrong.
She screamed, called him a pervert and then attempted to slap him across the fact before she knocked herself into the blackened waters of the Great Lake. Had her hand actually made contact with his cheek? She could hardly remember as she falsified as perceived assault and sought the shoreline.
He felt something then didn't she? Or was this all in her head? Honestly, it hardly mattered, at least to Erin. She was a selfish girl in most regards and that included emotionally.
There were several reasons why she chose places such as isolated regions on the grounds to spend her free-time. The most relevant reason at this moment was because it was easier for her to know if she had been followed. She had been right to play with Leeds, she had never been hunted before and yet she saw his face several times as of late. By the shore, isolated but in sight of a few other students. Various isolated areas on the grounds, all within earshot. Empty classrooms, abandoned halls, places for her to study, relax and think with the assurance of knowing that confrontations in these places would be rare, near impossible if they wanted to assail her and not be caught. Most either confront her within a few hours of first finding her or give up within a day, but Sebastian had not. An utter curiosity.
The abandoned bathrooms were another excellent haunt, she loved the scent of ammonia and hydrogen sulphide. No not really, the place was as depressing as it was dank. It was also a dead end. Did the girl make a mistake in coming here? A place Sebastian could follow with no witnesses. Perhaps it was a gambit by the young girl, Erin was luring a wolf to the jaws of an iron trap. Perhaps she simply made a mistake, confident that he would not follow.
One could only guess.
The first question was -- what was Erin doing in here? She had come here for a reason, maybe it was not with the intentions of luring the Slytherin here after all. She was staring into the grime-covered mirror, mouthing words but making no sound. Her grey eyes were looking at the reflection with a coldness often reserved for an enemy. Time had gotten away from her it would seem, a silent colloquy that had turned melancholy. She was practicing what she had learned, feigning tears.
The door swung open, likely another deviant here to smoke a cigarette or guzzle a bottle of butter beer. Perhaps they were the owner of the toilet vodka she discovered last week. She would wipe away her crocodile tears and carelessly glance at the door.
Leeds was not supposed to find her here, this was only supposed to be a five-minute detour but she had spent twenty-three. Better here than taking a shit.
"You..."
The Prefect's voice trailed off.
"We have unfinished business."
This was certainly inconvenient. She eyed the door behind him, the only point of egress. There was twenty-six feet between herself and the door, only Leeds standing in her way. She started to consider her skill versus the Prefects'. A danger assessment. He had chosen this space to confront her, despite knowing where she was these past few days. That was not a particularly good sign. Her eyes fixed on the door past him she contemplated if she should rush past him. It was not like he could do much of anything to her without becoming a villain in the eyes of the student body.
He wasn't going to try anything, she concluded. Well, even if he did she would probably like it.
"A pervert and a st-alker," she commented. Her voice wavered a bit as he locked the bathroom door. That was unsettling however her face did not betray her logical concern. "What is everyone going to think when they hear me scream?" She was threatening him of course, that was how she maintained control. "I don't have time for your weird fetishes, find some Huffle sub," she griped as she attempted to make him uncomfortable with her choice of words and her alleged indifference or rather lack of concern in this situation.
It was a distraction, or a poor attempt at one at the very least as she approached him. Not to face off with him but rather to reach for the door past him. Her instinct was to get out of the corner, perhaps place the smaller boy in one. She would attempt to reach for the lock if she was left undeterred. If somehow prevented she would laugh and then attempt to scream.
There were small nuggets of gold in this river of filth of course. For a brief time she had found herself enamored with DeWynter, a fellow Slytherin pure-blood. Not in a romantic sense of course, how could she love a boy with the depth of a puddle. However, he was a rare exception to her, she did not need to make him feel anything because he made her feel for the first time. In fact, he was the progenitor of this, all of this in fact. Before then, there was nothing except the bland concept of existence. She was mundane and average, like the rest, here to learn, create social bonds and excel in a society that she did not know enough about. She would say she 'felt' happy or sad but these words were only concepts to reflect the situation that she is in -- be it good or bad.
She had never felt any true sentiment so she never grasped the fact that she never felt, but the signs were there in her casting or lack thereof. Magic is an act of passion as much as it requires the use of the proper incantation and movement of a wand, at least for her in any case. This could be seen in children, their first incident with magic is often reckless and an expression of self-preservation or extreme emotion. Casting came easier with age, the regulation of emotion her parents would claim. The moment her magic first surfaced was in a moment of cruelty that she was the perpetrator of, however it was not her rage but that of the other child's that fueled her magic. She did not understand it, not then of course but her parents did. They were distant and of course never explained, perhaps her condition was genetic. Magical study was of course limited after that incident so many years ago, limited until she of course entered Hogwarts.
Her magic subsisted from their fervor, trepidation, anger and despondency. She had no special power or skill to take, but rather she was learning to emulate the agitated youths in their emotional turmoil around her. The irony of this was the fact that she was feeding off these preteen's angst, making their useless lives worth something at the very least. Anger was an easy emotion to manipulate, she had a knack for making others angry. She could read them, force them into a corner and coerce them to lash out. She was often successful and from their outburst she would feel, perhaps she was more empathetic than she was credited for as it was only then that she felt, when that roiling rage rolled off of them in waves and set her tiny toes a curl.
Sebastian Leeds was her newest plaything. Dull as a dishtowel and emotionally distant, his blunted affect and role as Slytherin's most recent Prefect drew her to him. As time went on, Erin's tastes were becoming more unsavory. Teasing Hufflepuffs about the smell of barbecue, pointing out an oddity in a pureblood to question their lineage and simply harassing her peers had become humdrum and stale. In a way she was an addict, seeking a greater high in a dangerous game only she was playing.
She tried to set the Prefect off as she had most before, the usual efforts which included digging into a pureblood's family line and seeking what exists in every family: weakness. His outward reaction appeared collected, however books should rarely be defined by their cover. She saw something swirling, creeping and crawling just beneath the surface in that boy to make him worth her effort. She felt something different off of him, perhaps it was only in her own head but let's be frank here she was not wrong.
She screamed, called him a pervert and then attempted to slap him across the fact before she knocked herself into the blackened waters of the Great Lake. Had her hand actually made contact with his cheek? She could hardly remember as she falsified as perceived assault and sought the shoreline.
He felt something then didn't she? Or was this all in her head? Honestly, it hardly mattered, at least to Erin. She was a selfish girl in most regards and that included emotionally.
There were several reasons why she chose places such as isolated regions on the grounds to spend her free-time. The most relevant reason at this moment was because it was easier for her to know if she had been followed. She had been right to play with Leeds, she had never been hunted before and yet she saw his face several times as of late. By the shore, isolated but in sight of a few other students. Various isolated areas on the grounds, all within earshot. Empty classrooms, abandoned halls, places for her to study, relax and think with the assurance of knowing that confrontations in these places would be rare, near impossible if they wanted to assail her and not be caught. Most either confront her within a few hours of first finding her or give up within a day, but Sebastian had not. An utter curiosity.
The abandoned bathrooms were another excellent haunt, she loved the scent of ammonia and hydrogen sulphide. No not really, the place was as depressing as it was dank. It was also a dead end. Did the girl make a mistake in coming here? A place Sebastian could follow with no witnesses. Perhaps it was a gambit by the young girl, Erin was luring a wolf to the jaws of an iron trap. Perhaps she simply made a mistake, confident that he would not follow.
One could only guess.
The first question was -- what was Erin doing in here? She had come here for a reason, maybe it was not with the intentions of luring the Slytherin here after all. She was staring into the grime-covered mirror, mouthing words but making no sound. Her grey eyes were looking at the reflection with a coldness often reserved for an enemy. Time had gotten away from her it would seem, a silent colloquy that had turned melancholy. She was practicing what she had learned, feigning tears.
The door swung open, likely another deviant here to smoke a cigarette or guzzle a bottle of butter beer. Perhaps they were the owner of the toilet vodka she discovered last week. She would wipe away her crocodile tears and carelessly glance at the door.
Leeds was not supposed to find her here, this was only supposed to be a five-minute detour but she had spent twenty-three. Better here than taking a shit.
"You..."
The Prefect's voice trailed off.
"We have unfinished business."
This was certainly inconvenient. She eyed the door behind him, the only point of egress. There was twenty-six feet between herself and the door, only Leeds standing in her way. She started to consider her skill versus the Prefects'. A danger assessment. He had chosen this space to confront her, despite knowing where she was these past few days. That was not a particularly good sign. Her eyes fixed on the door past him she contemplated if she should rush past him. It was not like he could do much of anything to her without becoming a villain in the eyes of the student body.
He wasn't going to try anything, she concluded. Well, even if he did she would probably like it.
"A pervert and a st-alker," she commented. Her voice wavered a bit as he locked the bathroom door. That was unsettling however her face did not betray her logical concern. "What is everyone going to think when they hear me scream?" She was threatening him of course, that was how she maintained control. "I don't have time for your weird fetishes, find some Huffle sub," she griped as she attempted to make him uncomfortable with her choice of words and her alleged indifference or rather lack of concern in this situation.
It was a distraction, or a poor attempt at one at the very least as she approached him. Not to face off with him but rather to reach for the door past him. Her instinct was to get out of the corner, perhaps place the smaller boy in one. She would attempt to reach for the lock if she was left undeterred. If somehow prevented she would laugh and then attempt to scream.
Just a trick of the lighting they said...
26 Jun 2018, 17:30
You...
┍━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 🆂🅻🆈🆃🅷🅴🆁🅸🅽 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┑
Erin spoke.
Sebastian didn't care.
The Slytherin Prefect took several steps forward, eyes staring at his source of focus. Purposefully, methodically, he reached up and unbuttoned his coat. Sliding out of the expensive garment, which had been given to him by his mother in one of her fashion crazes, Sebastian folded it before he laid it over the edge of the basin carefully. He now stood in his school uniform, the white shirt and tie, pants and a blazer. The prefect badge was pinned to his chest, on his left side. And the whole time, he kept watching, silver-blue eyes unwavering, keeping Erin in his sights.
"Talk, talk, talk," Sebastian muttered, as he reached down and pulled out the wand in his pocket. A not-so-friendly smile had crossed his lips, little more than a thin line that curved upward at the ends. "All you do is talk... you prod, you jab, you pick at people like a nail on a scab, you try and find the gap in the armor..."
The boy continued to walk slowly toward Erin. He was aware of the layout of the bathroom, the way the stalls were spaced in rows, how wide the central gap was. If the girl ran, from the spot in front of one of the numerous mirrors, it would take her a little while to reach the door. If she ran for the stalls, using them to hide behind, or otherwise try for cover or flanking, Sebastian knew where to go; this place, as rundown and unassuming as it was, had been put to memory, and in no small part because of the central basin.
Silver-blue eyes flicked to the basin, instinctual, as Sebastian noted the same details he had seen several times in the past few days and weeks. Ornate metalwork, coiling patterns painstakingly etched into something that shouldn't be so designed considering the purpose. The small carved scales, the expertly crafted snake heads, with all of it covered in varying degrees of grime and disuse. It was a shame, really, that such a place was left to rot because of an unfortunate incident so long ago...
"You play your games, thinking you're the hunter, pursuing the prey," Sebastian's eyes glinted, the dim surroundings illuminated by the few rays of light that pierced through the rounded glass windows on the far walls. "But really, you scamper in the isolated places, like a rat, trying to find holes to avoid notice or attention, so you can twist your playthings..."
The embarrassment of the boat was dulled now, having lost most of its potency over the passing days, but the need for revenge was simmering hot. Sebastian could still remember how red-faced he had been, in no small part to the hand that had slapped him, before being questioned by the Professors. The entire event had been something of a blur, in truth, prompted suddenly by Erin's unexpected series of actions. But there, amid the other Slytherin, she had had a crowd, an audience, and willing ears to listen to the woeful tale of the big bad boy who tried grabbing her...
But now she had no one around.
"You aren't special, you aren't as smart as you think," Sebastian continued, as he continued walking. He lifted the wand, pointing it at Erin, the end of the light brown tip still and sure. "In fact, were it not simply out of boredom, I wouldn't have even bothered coming here. I watched you, enjoyed seeing the glances over your shoulder, your movements changing, the paranoia... it was amusing. Like you, amusing, nothing more."
With a suddenness, Sebastian pulled back the wand in his arm, and tossed it to Erin. The wooden weapon was aimed for her torso, like someone passing a ball in sport casually. And inclining his head, the Prefect raised his eyebrows, the smile turning into a grin as he held out his hands in a shrug.
"You want a reaction? You want me to show you something?" He asked, voice lowering, as he rolled his eyes. "Why would I, Erin? What could I possibly gain from wasting anymore time on dirt beneath my heel than I already have?"
Sebastian stopped, several meters from Erin. His hands were put into pant pockets, as he continued to smile, shaking his head. No doubt she had expected some grand display of revenge, some aggressive outburst that she could twist to her advantage with her wolf tears; but, Sebastian had accounted for that, he had passed the wand he held to her...
"I don't even need a wand against you, that's how trivial and unimportant you are," Sebastian sighed, looking down to his shoe as he toed a piece of broken tile. "You wouldn't even have it in you, I bet, I've known people like you... cowards, trying to find weak people to leech from, and I'll do what I've done to every single one of them now.
"You. Aren't. Worth. It."
Turning, Sebastian flipped a dismissive hand at Erin, before he started to walk back toward the basin. He did pause, though, to glance over his shoulder, before turning to face her - and hold out a hand expectantly...
"I'll have the wand back, though... so, give it back, like the pathetic, uninteresting, little girl you are. I doubt you've got the nerve to do anything with it, anyway."
Sebastian Leeds
Sta: 5 | Agi: 8 | Str: 1 | Con: 7 | Arc: 6 | Acc: 8
Sta: 5 | Agi: 8 | Str: 1 | Con: 7 | Arc: 6 | Acc: 8
26 Jun 2018, 18:47
You...
She never got to the door as the Slytherin boy approached her, she felt her body tense and a tingle at her core. Was this what anxiety felt like? No, not even close but to her it would feel like a rush of emotion, this dis-ease that was almost apprehension. She breathed it in and it felt good. Her eyes watched Leeds as he moved forward, abandoning his overcoat in this filthy room. She mirrored his footsteps as she carefully circled towards the doorway she would never reach.
Escape was her goal, there was something unsettling about the Slytherin Prefect and she had enough sense to understand the concept of self preservation even if a small part of her was enjoying this game of cat and mouse. In truth she did not care which role she partook in, there was passion felt on both sides, however in the case where she was the mouse she risked being devoured. Then her game would end.
"Talk, talk, talk."
Her eyes narrowed as he pulled his wand, chestnut wood, only a different core. Her breath muted, why she was not entirely certain because it would not conceal her presence. Caution. She was a terrible caster, not that she would willingly admit this fact. Due to her lacking passion, even the Lumos charm was an arduous effort for the pre-teen. Was she scared? Not yet, but she was becoming concerned. She would allow the lip on one side of her face to curl back into a cruel expression as she lowered her hand to where she holstered her wand in a token gesture as she attempted to echo his threat.
"All you do is talk... you prod, you jab, you pick at people like a nail on a scab, you try and find the gap in the armor..."
"Do I?" She asked as her feet continued to meander closer to the door. In a battle of wands, she knew that she would lose but did he know that? Unlikely. It was a continual concern that her limitations would be discovered, that her inadequacies would be made known so she rarely if ever cast a charm where it could be witnessed. "Was it effective on you?" Of course it was, otherwise he would not be here.
Her ability to circle around him was limited as he continued his slow, methodical approach. Pride would not allow her to dash for the door, to display the growing uncertainty and concern within her. This was fun.
"You play your games, thinking you're the hunter, pursuing the prey."
"It is the only game worth playing," she claimed in a low voice. She let out a low laugh, it would sound unkind. "You would be a liar to say that this is not fun," her feet had stopped moving. She was not foolhardy enough to come any closer while Sebastian was armed.
"But really, you scamper in the isolated places, like a rat, trying to find holes to avoid notice or attention, so you can twist your playthings..."
"I really vex you..." it was a statement but the tone sharpened at the end as if it was a question. "If anything, I am honored." That strange, lopsided half-smile remained. "You're boring... you do dull things like kiss some Professor's over-sized ass. I am the first interesting--"
"You aren't special, you aren't as smart as you think."
How cruel. Erin of all people, not special? Dear Mister Leeds you could not be more wrong.
"In fact, were it not simply out of boredom, I wouldn't have even bothered coming here. I watched you, enjoyed seeing the glances over your shoulder, your movements changing, the paranoia... it was amusing. Like you, amusing, nothing more."
"You must be bored a lot," she contended. "Spending all of this time on little old me..." She shook her head. "How can I blame you? You blend in with the masses. Another shade of grey. Droll. Mundane. Apparently bored," she was confident, perhaps more than she was entitled to be regarding her own value. Even if she was quite possibly wrong. "Bored enough to pursue me. To find me." She cocked her head to the side. "Oh please~"
Then he moved. Her body tensed and her eyes sought potential refuge, the though process obvious in her eyes as considered how she would try to avoid his assault. She could not dash towards one of the stalls, that was too tight a corner, even if she avoided his first attack she would not be as lucky the second time around. She would stagger back several feet, further from the door and Sebastian. However, nothing was cast and he foolishly tossed, or handed over his wand.
Dumbfounded she was not going to question fortune. His hubris would be at the expense of his health. She snatched his wand, be it from his hand or from the floor. Pride was not necessary in places where there was no witnesses. And yes, she was a hypocrite.
"You want a reaction? You want me to show you something?"
He continued.
"Why would I, Erin? What could I possibly gain from wasting anymore time on dirt beneath my heel than I already have?"
Believing that he had denied her what her heart most desired. "That was a mistake," she warned him. The boy must have had a death wish, giving his greatest defense away as he had.
"I don't even need a wand against you, that's how trivial and unimportant you are."
He claimed. "Are you certain?" She was considerably larger than him, in fact she towered over the young man who stood at four-foot five and weight less than three-quarters what she did. Comparatively she was a Goliath and he had no wand. "Even I would not have been so foolish as to forfeit an advantage," she admitted.
"You wouldn't even have it in you, I bet, I've known people like you... cowards, trying to find weak people to leech from, and I'll do what I've done to every single one of them now.
She would slide his wand into her waistband and allow her wand to remain holstered to her side. "It would seem that you are attempting to goad me into an altercation." Safe and secure.
"You. Aren't. Worth. It."
He clarified as he enunciated each word with care. "Worth what," she stepped forward towards the unarmed midget. "The reaction I am not getting from you," she said sarcastically. "I envy your passion," a rare truth, "but I suppose I am glad... Glad that it does not cloud my judgement like it just did yours.
"I'll have the wand back, though... so, give it back, like the pathetic, uninteresting, little girl you are. I doubt you've got the nerve to do anything with it, anyway."
"Finders keepers... whats the rest of that old saying?" She let out a laugh. How ironic, she thought for once she would end up on the losing end of an incident. She would reach out for Sebastian, attempt to grab him by his shirt collar and force him into a mirror. He could try to fight back, it would be a disappointment if he didn't. "What say you now little snake... little worm?" Would he regret handing her his wand to make a point?
If she failed to grab him or he slipped away she would attempt to grapple the unfortunate Prefect and place him in a headlock on the floor. If he remained against the mirror she would slam him again for good measure. "I don't need a wand either."
Indeed there were witnesses before. She never did get what she wanted out of Sebastian. A reaction until now. It was like Christmas, her birthday and Easter rolled into one. She could finally hurt someone. Hurt him. Nobody the wiser, after all he locked the door. He relinquished his wand. He wanted this or he was exceptionally stupid, perhaps both. Eventually she would grab him, pin him to a wall, the floor or perhaps the noodly armed midget was stronger than he looked [you can determine success, I do not even care if you win in the contest of strength, I can make you regret almost anything I promise]. Either way, someone was going to be on top and if she had any say in the matter, it was going to be Erin. "How loud can you scream?" She would whisper into his ear, be it from a position of dominance or humility if the tiny boy did somehow overpower her.
Escape was her goal, there was something unsettling about the Slytherin Prefect and she had enough sense to understand the concept of self preservation even if a small part of her was enjoying this game of cat and mouse. In truth she did not care which role she partook in, there was passion felt on both sides, however in the case where she was the mouse she risked being devoured. Then her game would end.
"Talk, talk, talk."
Her eyes narrowed as he pulled his wand, chestnut wood, only a different core. Her breath muted, why she was not entirely certain because it would not conceal her presence. Caution. She was a terrible caster, not that she would willingly admit this fact. Due to her lacking passion, even the Lumos charm was an arduous effort for the pre-teen. Was she scared? Not yet, but she was becoming concerned. She would allow the lip on one side of her face to curl back into a cruel expression as she lowered her hand to where she holstered her wand in a token gesture as she attempted to echo his threat.
"All you do is talk... you prod, you jab, you pick at people like a nail on a scab, you try and find the gap in the armor..."
"Do I?" She asked as her feet continued to meander closer to the door. In a battle of wands, she knew that she would lose but did he know that? Unlikely. It was a continual concern that her limitations would be discovered, that her inadequacies would be made known so she rarely if ever cast a charm where it could be witnessed. "Was it effective on you?" Of course it was, otherwise he would not be here.
Her ability to circle around him was limited as he continued his slow, methodical approach. Pride would not allow her to dash for the door, to display the growing uncertainty and concern within her. This was fun.
"You play your games, thinking you're the hunter, pursuing the prey."
"It is the only game worth playing," she claimed in a low voice. She let out a low laugh, it would sound unkind. "You would be a liar to say that this is not fun," her feet had stopped moving. She was not foolhardy enough to come any closer while Sebastian was armed.
"But really, you scamper in the isolated places, like a rat, trying to find holes to avoid notice or attention, so you can twist your playthings..."
"I really vex you..." it was a statement but the tone sharpened at the end as if it was a question. "If anything, I am honored." That strange, lopsided half-smile remained. "You're boring... you do dull things like kiss some Professor's over-sized ass. I am the first interesting--"
"You aren't special, you aren't as smart as you think."
How cruel. Erin of all people, not special? Dear Mister Leeds you could not be more wrong.
"In fact, were it not simply out of boredom, I wouldn't have even bothered coming here. I watched you, enjoyed seeing the glances over your shoulder, your movements changing, the paranoia... it was amusing. Like you, amusing, nothing more."
"You must be bored a lot," she contended. "Spending all of this time on little old me..." She shook her head. "How can I blame you? You blend in with the masses. Another shade of grey. Droll. Mundane. Apparently bored," she was confident, perhaps more than she was entitled to be regarding her own value. Even if she was quite possibly wrong. "Bored enough to pursue me. To find me." She cocked her head to the side. "Oh please~"
Then he moved. Her body tensed and her eyes sought potential refuge, the though process obvious in her eyes as considered how she would try to avoid his assault. She could not dash towards one of the stalls, that was too tight a corner, even if she avoided his first attack she would not be as lucky the second time around. She would stagger back several feet, further from the door and Sebastian. However, nothing was cast and he foolishly tossed, or handed over his wand.
Dumbfounded she was not going to question fortune. His hubris would be at the expense of his health. She snatched his wand, be it from his hand or from the floor. Pride was not necessary in places where there was no witnesses. And yes, she was a hypocrite.
"You want a reaction? You want me to show you something?"
He continued.
"Why would I, Erin? What could I possibly gain from wasting anymore time on dirt beneath my heel than I already have?"
Believing that he had denied her what her heart most desired. "That was a mistake," she warned him. The boy must have had a death wish, giving his greatest defense away as he had.
"I don't even need a wand against you, that's how trivial and unimportant you are."
He claimed. "Are you certain?" She was considerably larger than him, in fact she towered over the young man who stood at four-foot five and weight less than three-quarters what she did. Comparatively she was a Goliath and he had no wand. "Even I would not have been so foolish as to forfeit an advantage," she admitted.
"You wouldn't even have it in you, I bet, I've known people like you... cowards, trying to find weak people to leech from, and I'll do what I've done to every single one of them now.
She would slide his wand into her waistband and allow her wand to remain holstered to her side. "It would seem that you are attempting to goad me into an altercation." Safe and secure.
"You. Aren't. Worth. It."
He clarified as he enunciated each word with care. "Worth what," she stepped forward towards the unarmed midget. "The reaction I am not getting from you," she said sarcastically. "I envy your passion," a rare truth, "but I suppose I am glad... Glad that it does not cloud my judgement like it just did yours.
"I'll have the wand back, though... so, give it back, like the pathetic, uninteresting, little girl you are. I doubt you've got the nerve to do anything with it, anyway."
"Finders keepers... whats the rest of that old saying?" She let out a laugh. How ironic, she thought for once she would end up on the losing end of an incident. She would reach out for Sebastian, attempt to grab him by his shirt collar and force him into a mirror. He could try to fight back, it would be a disappointment if he didn't. "What say you now little snake... little worm?" Would he regret handing her his wand to make a point?
If she failed to grab him or he slipped away she would attempt to grapple the unfortunate Prefect and place him in a headlock on the floor. If he remained against the mirror she would slam him again for good measure. "I don't need a wand either."
Indeed there were witnesses before. She never did get what she wanted out of Sebastian. A reaction until now. It was like Christmas, her birthday and Easter rolled into one. She could finally hurt someone. Hurt him. Nobody the wiser, after all he locked the door. He relinquished his wand. He wanted this or he was exceptionally stupid, perhaps both. Eventually she would grab him, pin him to a wall, the floor or perhaps the noodly armed midget was stronger than he looked [you can determine success, I do not even care if you win in the contest of strength, I can make you regret almost anything I promise]. Either way, someone was going to be on top and if she had any say in the matter, it was going to be Erin. "How loud can you scream?" She would whisper into his ear, be it from a position of dominance or humility if the tiny boy did somehow overpower her.
Just a trick of the lighting they said...
27 Jun 2018, 18:23
You...
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There had been a moment when Sebastian had seen concern in Erin's eyes, when he had aimed the wand at her. It had been in that moment the boy had made the final decision about his plan, and was now suffering the consequences. Erin was taller, heavier and wasn't afraid to use that; in fact, Sebastian could almost swear there was a glee in her eye, at the realization of what she could do.
"Urk."
Sebastian grunted as he was grabbed around the collar, his own hands reaching up to grab Erin's wrists. But given the momentum and weight behind her shove, the smaller boy couldn't do much besides get sent backward, right into a mirror against the wall. With a crash, the mirror broke with the impact, cracking like a spider web to Sebastian's back, as pieces of jagged sharpness scattered across his hair and shoulders. A warm sensation was felt through his hair, blood that dripped down through the black strands, as the boy gritted his teeth and stared up at the taller girl.
"Back off, psycho," Sebastian growled, his voice not as low as he wanted. "You're crazy..."
She's stronger than she looks, Sebastian, even as the pain of the cuts to his scalp began to reach his brain. Ugh. This could have been a bad plan...
A second slam against the mirror happened, causing portions of mirror to break off completely; and they fell to the ground, smashing into glinting particles, scattering around the shoes of the pair. Sebastian had never been in a physical altercation, so this was all new to him. There was no established sense of fight or flight, and he wasn't sure how he wanted to react. It wasn't like the tutors at the manor had been anything but coldly professional, and there had been no friends or siblings to play-fight with, so Sebastian had never learned to defend himself... and right now, he supposed it may have been a good skill to develop, considering the damage to his person could be considerable with an out of control psycho.
Though, admittedly, psycho didn't seem to apply to the situation, as Erin was cold and sinister, not acting outrageous anger.
The pair struggled, mostly in Erin's favor, before Sebastian found himself tossed onto the floor with the girl atop him. With the new position, her weight gave all the advantage she could want, effectively pinning the smaller boy on the dirty tiles that were covered in shattered mirror. Sebastian felt pieces stabbing and jabbing, some larger bits piercing through his blazer and pant material; they weren't deep, but they drew points of blood, scratching the skin and ripping the clothing on his back.
"I-is this what you do?" Sebastian wheezed, the girl making breathing hard. "You try to make others suffer? Try to ruin their reputations, like in the boat? And for what?"
The words were labored, as Sebastian began to look around. He had to find something to use, something to get out from under her, considering the plan had gone sideways. But, being pinned how he was, there wasn't too much the boy was capable of... and so he glared, silver-blue eyes narrowed as he began to struggle with arms and legs. Certainly it would have been an odd sight, were the door opened to allow passersby to enter, but the likelihood wasn't high.
"Get off me," Sebastian said, his voice raised. "Or you'll regret it!"
Sebastian heard his words, knew they were a cliché, but also understood they were his only option and they had to be said. He doubted any sense could be talked into the crazed girl, she seemed pretty determined to make the boy hurt, which was concerning, and Sebastian did not relish the injuries to come. He had misjudged the severity and savagery Erin had within her, and the look in her eyes told him that the mirror were only the start...
Sebastian Leeds
Sta: 5 | Agi: 8 | Str: 1 | Con: 7 | Arc: 6 | Acc: 8
Sta: 5 | Agi: 8 | Str: 1 | Con: 7 | Arc: 6 | Acc: 8
28 Jun 2018, 04:02
You...
Trigger Warning: This post may be considered too graphic for some readers due to instances of violence, threatening activities and should not be read by users that are sensitive to violence.
Reducio
Sebastian was a boy who took pride in how he looked, how he was seen. That was why he was here after all, she had assailed he greatest asset his 'appearance.' To her Sebastian looked like a doll, the sort of doll a mother would give to their daughter to care for. So small, so pale, so delicate. Her dolls never lasted very long. They too were so very delicate. Hopefully Sebastian would be able to endure.
"Psycho?" She repeated. He could not be more wrong, she was exceedingly empathetic. She was feeling everything with such an intensity. It was fucking glorious The pain, the trepidation, the anger, it was nigh near orgasmic. That was why she did this, the pure selfish pleasure of doing so. She let out a cruel laugh. "Do you think I do not understand how you feel? Pathetic." She made a terrible face and with that wicked visage she would look into Sebastian's silvery eyes. "Your pupils dilated. Your heart is beating so fast, I can feel it beneath me," she continued, the viper's grip unrelenting. "But you will lie... misrepresent. Tell me that your what... indifferent still." She shook her head, "I don't even think you know what you feel, but try and tell me." There was a reason mother never let her have a pet like Sebastian. It was not that she would fail to feed it, there were likely plenty of chocolate frogs that be could bob for in the bowl over yonder. It was not that she would neglect the piteous little beast, she would give him so much attention. Mother would be so proud.
She would knock Sebastian onto the ground, a bed of grime and glass. He was hardly fighting back, the process too easy. Glass would crunch under their combined weight, cutting into his pants and back. Erin did not seem to care greatly for his comfort, in fact she was trying to make it hurt. She would straddle him, her weight more than sufficient to pin him down.
"Is this what I do?" She repeated. She was parroting him. "Duh!" Her hands would find a shard of glass on the floor and she would lift it, making sure that it was in his line of sight. Knowledge of pain, the understanding of what might come was often worse than the actual event. Like when father made you cut your own switch from the willow tree. "You already know the answer to that question. Yet here you are wasting thought on what you already know. If you have that sort of free time on your hands, give me what I want." She demanded with a dark venomous bile in his words. She never told him what she was after, not really. However, he was a smart boy, he would figure things out.
Or perhaps he was still fixated on minor details.
"Still going on about the boat ride," she scoffed at him as she lowered the shard of glass she had recovered from the filthy floor dangerously close to his neck. "I did it because I enjoy it," the simplest reason of all. "I enjoy hurting people. I enjoy hurting you." The jagged edge of the makeshift blade would rest threateningly against his soft, pallid neck unless somehow prevented. "And there is a part of you that enjoys it too," she claimed. She was certainly cracked. There was something loose in her head. Pain is not something that is intended to be enjoyed. "Because before me... before you decided to play my game you hardly felt at all." Even bad attention was better than no attention at all.
Get off me or you'll regret it!
"Think about it Prefect. Before this velitation what did you have to do with your day. Read a book. Talk with a pretty girl you're not even interested in but think you should be. You are a model for a statue of impotent rage!" She shifted on top of him, her glass in hand still she would cut into his skin. He might stuggle, if he did she would plant her hand on top of his throat, pressing down on his wind pipe. Hard enough that he would find it difficult to catch any air, but gentle enough that each wheezing, desperate breath would complete. "Have you ever felt ardor and indignation like this before in your entitled and privileged life." She would move that pointed tip that had broken through his skin. She could cut him deeply right now, his life was in peril, something that she was making him abundantly aware of but it would be less painful than he expected considering her previous rough treatment. He would feel the sting and the warm blood that trickled from the surface would she recklessly left with a hint of myrrh in her laugh. She was leaving him a message. Nolī Oblīviscī along his collar. Upon completion, the glass would fall from her hand, clatter on the ground next to his ear. It would seem louder there than it should.
She was the one in the position of control and yet here he was making demands. A boy a fraction of her size without a wand and without the physical strength to do anything against her. "Does the rabbit tell the wolf when it can be eaten." Her finger would attempt to run along the fresh cut she had made on his neck or another wound recently inflicted if she failed to write the Latin script, her finger painted red. She would run it along his cheek and let it rest over his mouth as if she was hushing him. If he tried to bite her, she would not hesitate to slap him across the face.
"It is so easy to play the role of the indignant... the hero... I bet you even think that you are bad. That you could be scary somehow. One in five Slytherins call themselves the next Dark Lord, even if the concept is only in their head. You think you have edge because you think you're better but what do you do... you still run around with those mudbloods and those muggleborns. You stand there like a blind mute in a flock of lemmings, not smart enough... not well-enough equipped to go against the flow, so you what? Just stand there, move with the current sometimes. Get lost others." She would close her eyes and breathe in deeply. She could feel *it* rolling off of him. It stretched and it pulled at the sinews of her heart. It yawned, it reached. Leeds would not understand what he had become. A pet? A distraction? A plaything? Maybe something more... something less. It did not matter really from his perspective more than likely.
Her weight would seem like less on top of Leeds. Was she letting him free?
No, she was not that kind.
He would never forget.
It was a futile effort, Sebastian's struggle as he gripped onto Erin's wrist and she thrust the youth into the large pane of glass. The glass would crack upon impact with the Slytherin's head. Erin was strong but she was far from foolish, she knew exactly what she was doing when she smashed him into the mirror not once but twice. A master in cruelty. The second time the poor boy hit the fractured glass, shards of glass would be displaced. Some hunks of glass would cut into the back of his scalp, some would rain down on his collar. A few smaller bits would wiggle their way inside his shirt, slivers pricking and scratching as they traveled down his likely (and now only previously) unblemished back. Some larger pieces would not fall inside, yet they would be trapped between him and the wall. Between a fleshy target and an unmovable object, Leed's flesh would give way. The glass would slice through his formerly crisp shirt. Splotches of red visible.This thread is being done with the expressed consent of Sebastian Leeds. If at any point this thread becomes too graphic, violent or uncomfortable for the user, Sebastian reserves the right to ask for an edit. Everything done by my character can be prevented, no rolls required.
Sebastian was a boy who took pride in how he looked, how he was seen. That was why he was here after all, she had assailed he greatest asset his 'appearance.' To her Sebastian looked like a doll, the sort of doll a mother would give to their daughter to care for. So small, so pale, so delicate. Her dolls never lasted very long. They too were so very delicate. Hopefully Sebastian would be able to endure.
"Psycho?" She repeated. He could not be more wrong, she was exceedingly empathetic. She was feeling everything with such an intensity. It was fucking glorious The pain, the trepidation, the anger, it was nigh near orgasmic. That was why she did this, the pure selfish pleasure of doing so. She let out a cruel laugh. "Do you think I do not understand how you feel? Pathetic." She made a terrible face and with that wicked visage she would look into Sebastian's silvery eyes. "Your pupils dilated. Your heart is beating so fast, I can feel it beneath me," she continued, the viper's grip unrelenting. "But you will lie... misrepresent. Tell me that your what... indifferent still." She shook her head, "I don't even think you know what you feel, but try and tell me." There was a reason mother never let her have a pet like Sebastian. It was not that she would fail to feed it, there were likely plenty of chocolate frogs that be could bob for in the bowl over yonder. It was not that she would neglect the piteous little beast, she would give him so much attention. Mother would be so proud.
She would knock Sebastian onto the ground, a bed of grime and glass. He was hardly fighting back, the process too easy. Glass would crunch under their combined weight, cutting into his pants and back. Erin did not seem to care greatly for his comfort, in fact she was trying to make it hurt. She would straddle him, her weight more than sufficient to pin him down.
"Is this what I do?" She repeated. She was parroting him. "Duh!" Her hands would find a shard of glass on the floor and she would lift it, making sure that it was in his line of sight. Knowledge of pain, the understanding of what might come was often worse than the actual event. Like when father made you cut your own switch from the willow tree. "You already know the answer to that question. Yet here you are wasting thought on what you already know. If you have that sort of free time on your hands, give me what I want." She demanded with a dark venomous bile in his words. She never told him what she was after, not really. However, he was a smart boy, he would figure things out.
Or perhaps he was still fixated on minor details.
"Still going on about the boat ride," she scoffed at him as she lowered the shard of glass she had recovered from the filthy floor dangerously close to his neck. "I did it because I enjoy it," the simplest reason of all. "I enjoy hurting people. I enjoy hurting you." The jagged edge of the makeshift blade would rest threateningly against his soft, pallid neck unless somehow prevented. "And there is a part of you that enjoys it too," she claimed. She was certainly cracked. There was something loose in her head. Pain is not something that is intended to be enjoyed. "Because before me... before you decided to play my game you hardly felt at all." Even bad attention was better than no attention at all.
Get off me or you'll regret it!
"Think about it Prefect. Before this velitation what did you have to do with your day. Read a book. Talk with a pretty girl you're not even interested in but think you should be. You are a model for a statue of impotent rage!" She shifted on top of him, her glass in hand still she would cut into his skin. He might stuggle, if he did she would plant her hand on top of his throat, pressing down on his wind pipe. Hard enough that he would find it difficult to catch any air, but gentle enough that each wheezing, desperate breath would complete. "Have you ever felt ardor and indignation like this before in your entitled and privileged life." She would move that pointed tip that had broken through his skin. She could cut him deeply right now, his life was in peril, something that she was making him abundantly aware of but it would be less painful than he expected considering her previous rough treatment. He would feel the sting and the warm blood that trickled from the surface would she recklessly left with a hint of myrrh in her laugh. She was leaving him a message. Nolī Oblīviscī along his collar. Upon completion, the glass would fall from her hand, clatter on the ground next to his ear. It would seem louder there than it should.
She was the one in the position of control and yet here he was making demands. A boy a fraction of her size without a wand and without the physical strength to do anything against her. "Does the rabbit tell the wolf when it can be eaten." Her finger would attempt to run along the fresh cut she had made on his neck or another wound recently inflicted if she failed to write the Latin script, her finger painted red. She would run it along his cheek and let it rest over his mouth as if she was hushing him. If he tried to bite her, she would not hesitate to slap him across the face.
"It is so easy to play the role of the indignant... the hero... I bet you even think that you are bad. That you could be scary somehow. One in five Slytherins call themselves the next Dark Lord, even if the concept is only in their head. You think you have edge because you think you're better but what do you do... you still run around with those mudbloods and those muggleborns. You stand there like a blind mute in a flock of lemmings, not smart enough... not well-enough equipped to go against the flow, so you what? Just stand there, move with the current sometimes. Get lost others." She would close her eyes and breathe in deeply. She could feel *it* rolling off of him. It stretched and it pulled at the sinews of her heart. It yawned, it reached. Leeds would not understand what he had become. A pet? A distraction? A plaything? Maybe something more... something less. It did not matter really from his perspective more than likely.
Her weight would seem like less on top of Leeds. Was she letting him free?
No, she was not that kind.
He would never forget.
Just a trick of the lighting they said...
28 Jun 2018, 07:42
You...
Content Warning
This post may be considered too graphic for some readers due to instances of violence, threatening activities and should not be read by users that are sensitive to violence.
Reducio
Erin's words roiled over Sebastian like a storm, as Sebastian groaned, eyes watering, writhing in pain. The cuts along his neck were causing discomfort as he tried to avoid stabbing more glass into his back and shoulders, and he couldn't make out what was being sliced into the flesh simply due to the area flooding with raw, stinging pain. It felt like fire, and he couldn't compare the feeling to anything in the past. So, the girl was right when it came to claims of inflicting hurt, and it revealed a lot about her state of mind and inclinations, which had once been contained behind brooding eyes.
I don't think she'll stop, Sebastian thought to himself, eyes wide. She's enjoying it too much.
While Erin admired her handiwork, ranting about generalities and her beliefs about the boy pinned beneath her, Sebastian began to slowly compose himself. And Sebastian couldn't deny that some of the words spoken rang with truth, as most Slytherin seemed to fancy themselves the next villain in the Wizarding world, rubbing their hands gleefully at all the curses and spells they would learn, all the while drawing attention to themselves. Most were incapable of doing what actually needed to be done, while others went the distance only to fail in the end, or to seek some kind of redemption.
Still, Erin assumed Sebastian was one of those, a boy pretending at playing big bad or the good hero, and in most respects she was wrong; he didn't really have any formal plans of world domination, nor did he really intend to claim some petty title of hero to the people, instead he simply had ideas and the need to gain the knowledge and information to see them happen... whatever they were. After all, they were eleven, so long-term planning for life choices was kind of limited, at least until fourth year.
The Prefect's eyes were glazed over, his breathing slow, his pain-fogged mind calming. He used the methods of his tutoring, how to control that panic and fear that had welled within him, changing it, controlling it, overcoming it. As much as Sebastian despised his father, for treating his son as little more than a stepping stone in his legacy, the boy couldn't deny that Kenneth's harsh treatment and lessons had been effective. Everything was about control, even the perception of it, and being able to fool others into thinking they had it, allowing them to make mistakes.
Sebastian remained still, simply listening to Erin, unmoving. With little effort, his eyes closed, plunging his world into darkness, and he could even appear unconscious, were the girl paying attention. Still, even as Sebastian's world was seemingly covered in a blanket of pain, blood and grime covered floor tiles, he couldn't help but think on Erin. She was broken, she needed something from others to make her feel, that was obvious from her words and the relish she showed in her actions. She also saw herself above others, throwing around her insults at Muggle-borns, showing the true extent of her shortsightedness - one did not simply dismiss another due to their birth status, not when some of those mudbloods had proven themselves better and more capable than Pure-bloods in the past. It wasn't about status, it wasn't about influence, for Sebastian it was all about becoming the best and ascending the peak to stand above it all.
And as for Erin? She had underestimated him. Greatly.
Now she'll know.
Sebastian opened his eyes, the silver-blue pupils now deeply focused, changed. Where once pain, panic and resignation to what was happening had been, there was now a very different change - calm, cold, focused, not to dissimilar to when the Prefect had entered the bathroom, before throwing his wand at his opponent, where things had taken a turn. In fact, during Erin's monologue, Sebastian's fingers had worked slowly, carefully, inching closer and closer to his stomach; and from there, it was mere inches to reach out and touch what he sought...
"You wanted to know how loud I screamed?" Sebastian said, the smile reappearing on his face as he leaned forward, ignoring the pain in his neck and shoulders. "I'll show you..."
He lifted his free arm, which now clasped his wand that had been in Erin's waistband. The length of wood was like a comforting presence, a reassurance, a part of the boy that he had assured wouldn't be away from him for long; the seemingly sentient magic that surrounded the weapon understanding, despite the danger it had been in, with Sebastian betting on Erin seeking a trophy - but there had been a real possibility of it being snapped, which the wand didn't appreciate. Sebastian wouldn't have been surprised to hear Erin had keepsakes from all of her past victims, probably hidden somewhere predictable where she could cackle over them in delight each night.
The tip pressed firmly against the girl's chest barely a half-moment later, even as the threat left Sebastian's mouth. And with a detached coldness, one borne of an upbringing void of love and warmth, filled instead with unrealistic expectations and feelings of constant disapproval, the Prefect muttered a single word...
"Flipendo."
Deftly the wand tip moved, precise in the flick and curl, the sweep of movement contained to the small space of Erin's chest. Where some students required large sweeping wand gestures, Sebastian had instead practiced on small, perfected incantations. Some were content with simply performing a charm or succeeding in being able, but Sebastian was a perfectionist, groomed from early childhood to excel where others simply accepted.
A blue flash, and Sebastian literally felt the weight of his oppressor lift from his chest.
Sebastian let out a sigh, as he stood up with a wince and flashes of pain. He could feel the cuts and blood, the damp making his shirt cling to his small, thin form. The back of his head was matted with blood, the wound from the mirror still bleeding, but the real concern was the slashes on his neck, slices in the skin that were leaking crimson down his front. The boy clamped a hand over the spot, sneering as a flash of pain hit him from the touch. Sebastian had endured pain, he was bred for dueling, and had taken his knocks from tutors, but this was a different pain, a more severe pain... and as far as he was concerned, Erin had dished out quite enough of it.
Now it was his turn.
"Aw, poor little girl," Sebastian said, his voice a little coarse, as he kept pressure on his neck. "You still don't have any idea, do you? You're playing a game of cat and mouse, but I'm looking on a chessboard.
"Flipendo."
Sebastian waved his wand a second time, a blue flash following the minute precise movements. He didn't care if it hit Erin, he just wanted to keep her off-balance, to keep her moving, as he began stalking toward her. Now the real game would reveal itself, one that was merely in the midst of being seen through to completion... the Prefect might almost have felt sorry for the girl, if he had cared enough, seeing as Erin thought this was the endgame. It wasn't even close.
"Take out your wand, worm, now it's your turn to feel something," Sebastian ordered, his own raised as he continued his pace, eyes narrowed, teeth gritted. "Let's see why you would rather resort to fists over magic, hm? Let's discover how truly useless you really are... in fact, I'd suggest you stop being a fool, but by this point I suppose it's become habit for you."
The Prefect was now in his element. This was his game, dueling was his pedigree, and he would enact cold, calculated revenge on Erin for what she had done. But unfortunately for her, this was only the beginning, as Sebastian had planned several steps ahead, and by the time he was done, the pathetic puppet would be snipped of it's strings to fall lifeless to the floor.
"Show me... show me the level of your inadequacy, you poor. Broken. Thing."
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Erin's words roiled over Sebastian like a storm, as Sebastian groaned, eyes watering, writhing in pain. The cuts along his neck were causing discomfort as he tried to avoid stabbing more glass into his back and shoulders, and he couldn't make out what was being sliced into the flesh simply due to the area flooding with raw, stinging pain. It felt like fire, and he couldn't compare the feeling to anything in the past. So, the girl was right when it came to claims of inflicting hurt, and it revealed a lot about her state of mind and inclinations, which had once been contained behind brooding eyes.
I don't think she'll stop, Sebastian thought to himself, eyes wide. She's enjoying it too much.
While Erin admired her handiwork, ranting about generalities and her beliefs about the boy pinned beneath her, Sebastian began to slowly compose himself. And Sebastian couldn't deny that some of the words spoken rang with truth, as most Slytherin seemed to fancy themselves the next villain in the Wizarding world, rubbing their hands gleefully at all the curses and spells they would learn, all the while drawing attention to themselves. Most were incapable of doing what actually needed to be done, while others went the distance only to fail in the end, or to seek some kind of redemption.
Still, Erin assumed Sebastian was one of those, a boy pretending at playing big bad or the good hero, and in most respects she was wrong; he didn't really have any formal plans of world domination, nor did he really intend to claim some petty title of hero to the people, instead he simply had ideas and the need to gain the knowledge and information to see them happen... whatever they were. After all, they were eleven, so long-term planning for life choices was kind of limited, at least until fourth year.
The Prefect's eyes were glazed over, his breathing slow, his pain-fogged mind calming. He used the methods of his tutoring, how to control that panic and fear that had welled within him, changing it, controlling it, overcoming it. As much as Sebastian despised his father, for treating his son as little more than a stepping stone in his legacy, the boy couldn't deny that Kenneth's harsh treatment and lessons had been effective. Everything was about control, even the perception of it, and being able to fool others into thinking they had it, allowing them to make mistakes.
Sebastian remained still, simply listening to Erin, unmoving. With little effort, his eyes closed, plunging his world into darkness, and he could even appear unconscious, were the girl paying attention. Still, even as Sebastian's world was seemingly covered in a blanket of pain, blood and grime covered floor tiles, he couldn't help but think on Erin. She was broken, she needed something from others to make her feel, that was obvious from her words and the relish she showed in her actions. She also saw herself above others, throwing around her insults at Muggle-borns, showing the true extent of her shortsightedness - one did not simply dismiss another due to their birth status, not when some of those mudbloods had proven themselves better and more capable than Pure-bloods in the past. It wasn't about status, it wasn't about influence, for Sebastian it was all about becoming the best and ascending the peak to stand above it all.
And as for Erin? She had underestimated him. Greatly.
Now she'll know.
Sebastian opened his eyes, the silver-blue pupils now deeply focused, changed. Where once pain, panic and resignation to what was happening had been, there was now a very different change - calm, cold, focused, not to dissimilar to when the Prefect had entered the bathroom, before throwing his wand at his opponent, where things had taken a turn. In fact, during Erin's monologue, Sebastian's fingers had worked slowly, carefully, inching closer and closer to his stomach; and from there, it was mere inches to reach out and touch what he sought...
"You wanted to know how loud I screamed?" Sebastian said, the smile reappearing on his face as he leaned forward, ignoring the pain in his neck and shoulders. "I'll show you..."
He lifted his free arm, which now clasped his wand that had been in Erin's waistband. The length of wood was like a comforting presence, a reassurance, a part of the boy that he had assured wouldn't be away from him for long; the seemingly sentient magic that surrounded the weapon understanding, despite the danger it had been in, with Sebastian betting on Erin seeking a trophy - but there had been a real possibility of it being snapped, which the wand didn't appreciate. Sebastian wouldn't have been surprised to hear Erin had keepsakes from all of her past victims, probably hidden somewhere predictable where she could cackle over them in delight each night.
The tip pressed firmly against the girl's chest barely a half-moment later, even as the threat left Sebastian's mouth. And with a detached coldness, one borne of an upbringing void of love and warmth, filled instead with unrealistic expectations and feelings of constant disapproval, the Prefect muttered a single word...
"Flipendo."
Deftly the wand tip moved, precise in the flick and curl, the sweep of movement contained to the small space of Erin's chest. Where some students required large sweeping wand gestures, Sebastian had instead practiced on small, perfected incantations. Some were content with simply performing a charm or succeeding in being able, but Sebastian was a perfectionist, groomed from early childhood to excel where others simply accepted.
A blue flash, and Sebastian literally felt the weight of his oppressor lift from his chest.
Sebastian let out a sigh, as he stood up with a wince and flashes of pain. He could feel the cuts and blood, the damp making his shirt cling to his small, thin form. The back of his head was matted with blood, the wound from the mirror still bleeding, but the real concern was the slashes on his neck, slices in the skin that were leaking crimson down his front. The boy clamped a hand over the spot, sneering as a flash of pain hit him from the touch. Sebastian had endured pain, he was bred for dueling, and had taken his knocks from tutors, but this was a different pain, a more severe pain... and as far as he was concerned, Erin had dished out quite enough of it.
Now it was his turn.
"Aw, poor little girl," Sebastian said, his voice a little coarse, as he kept pressure on his neck. "You still don't have any idea, do you? You're playing a game of cat and mouse, but I'm looking on a chessboard.
"Flipendo."
Sebastian waved his wand a second time, a blue flash following the minute precise movements. He didn't care if it hit Erin, he just wanted to keep her off-balance, to keep her moving, as he began stalking toward her. Now the real game would reveal itself, one that was merely in the midst of being seen through to completion... the Prefect might almost have felt sorry for the girl, if he had cared enough, seeing as Erin thought this was the endgame. It wasn't even close.
"Take out your wand, worm, now it's your turn to feel something," Sebastian ordered, his own raised as he continued his pace, eyes narrowed, teeth gritted. "Let's see why you would rather resort to fists over magic, hm? Let's discover how truly useless you really are... in fact, I'd suggest you stop being a fool, but by this point I suppose it's become habit for you."
The Prefect was now in his element. This was his game, dueling was his pedigree, and he would enact cold, calculated revenge on Erin for what she had done. But unfortunately for her, this was only the beginning, as Sebastian had planned several steps ahead, and by the time he was done, the pathetic puppet would be snipped of it's strings to fall lifeless to the floor.
"Show me... show me the level of your inadequacy, you poor. Broken. Thing."
Sebastian Leeds
Sta: 5 | Agi: 8 | Str: 1 | Con: 7 | Arc: 6 | Acc: 8
Sta: 5 | Agi: 8 | Str: 1 | Con: 7 | Arc: 6 | Acc: 8
28 Jun 2018, 13:36
You...
Trigger Warnings Continue.
Reducio
It was less satisfying when they were calm. It was like eating a cheeseburger after it had went through the blender -- there was something wrong with the texture and while the sum of the parts might have been the same, the seasoning and the bread, the toppings and even the heat, a burger was not intended to be eaten with a spoon. However, she had gotten something out of him prior, a bite of ribeye, not quite a filet. She would savor that mouthful and salivate over her next taste.
The words she wrote were in Latin, one of the languages she was mostly fluent in. One a great number of purebloods were fluent in. It was a mostly forgotten, old language however in her experience, like every wizard's she understood the power behind those words. Few consider why words have the power they do, or where their meaning came from but the legacy of magic went back to the first words uttered by an antediluvian man. The first... the oldest... the purest. At least that is what she had come the believe, as had many others. That the genesis of magic and its power came from the earliest people, that the first words were not confabulations but the true names for all that was within the word and the divine command they had over it. But was word the first thing one used to wield dominion over the environment and over one another. No, action came before words. One had to move their lips, wave their hands. Therefore motion was older than words. But there was an older power still, intention and passion. One had to intend to move their lips and wave their hands, grip the fine wooden wand or stir that cauldron.
Intention, passion and thought were the first, the most carnal and true reservoir for magic. Or so her family believed. Or so she believed. However her well was dry and it had been since the day she was born. It would be easy to blame her condition on a fiend, a demon, a spirit, a terrible curse but for her that was never the case. She was simply born wrong. Did her parents share in her affliction? Perhaps, if they had they had chose to never reveal this fact to her but it would explain why she never partook of either as a meal.
She had learned to "fake it" of course, fear and regret. People wanted to see you lament your wrongs, otherwise another lashing. She did not care about pain beyond the fact that it was a symptom, a biological signal that her body was in peril. That was an issue of course, fear of pain is a protective mechanism built into humans for the purpose of protecting their form. Giving them reason to evade risk. Something that she should have felt more than she had when Leeds entered this space, locked the door and stripped off his coat. His intention was a confrontation but he had miscalculated and she had the upper hand when she assaulted him. When she decided to make him regret hunting her.
She should have been flattered by all of this attention, in fact if she could be she would be. She would barely notice his creeping hand as she carved that word into his collar. It might prove ironic later. Sebastian's wand would slip free, all thirty-some centimeters. And who says size does not matter?
"You wanted to know how loud I screamed?"
Sebastian replied to the brute's rants.
She did, she really did. She of course knew something was wrong, there was a change in him. Logically she knew, even if emotively the impulse to flee lacked. She did not check for the wand in her wasitband, not overconfident that Leeds would not wiggle it free but rather...
"I'll show you..."
There was a study in 2010 that validated the claim that you can see a man;s intention in their eyes. The pupils dilate approximately one full second before an action is made. Fascinating study really, subjects were given a button and a ten second span to press the button within. The dilation of the eyes correlated with the moment chose to press the button. One second prior, the pupils would dilate and then an action would transpire. It was a whole cascade of chemicals in the brain. Regardless, there was not much she could do in a single second had she decided that she wanted to remain on top.
His wand to her chest, his movement of the narrow length of hardwood was tiny and precise.
"Flipendo."
Blue lights dominated her sight for a moment and that was before she was hurled across the room. Back into the wall, the sinks and the fractured mirror. The small of her back would hit the porcelain basin hard. She would yell out in pain as her back arched, the unmovable object has only halted her lower torso's advance. Her hands would instinctively attempt to grip the lip of the sink, she would try to control her forceful fall but the surface too smooth, too slick even with the layer of filth and grime. Her head would fall back, propelled by the force of the flippendo as well as the rotational nature of velocity being abruptly halted on the small of her back. Her head would crash into what was left of the mirror and she would hit it hard. A searing white would dominate her vision for a moment as the impact left her seeing stars. The back of her head would feel hot and damp, a shard of glass had cut her deeply her scalp.
She would make a noise, it resembled a moan or a groan perhaps. She was disoriented. She would blink, the room was too bright. It was too dark. Wait, she blinked then. Merlin, too bright again! She would slide off the sink, a deep ache felt in her lower back, there would be a massive bruise there when this encounter was done. She would not fall however, she would catch herself on the edge of the sink with her hand. She would grab hold of the stable structure, half-ignoring the glass that found its way into her hand as she tightened her hold and unsteadily returned to her feet.
It was a shame that she did not feel mad. In fact she was very very hungry. She thought the she was getting something out of the doorknob of a boy but the cruel little monster half played dead once she got him onto the floor.
"Aw, poor little girl."
Her taunted.
"You still don't have any idea, do you? You're playing a game of cat and mouse, but I'm looking on a chessboard."
"Damn house elf in bloodied boys clothes," she muttered as she tried to get her bearings.
"Flipendo."
She heard the words, saw the blue flash of light and she tried to move. She tried to get out of its way, but rather it sent her askew, her forearm cracked against the stone wall adjacent to the mirror several feet further from the Slytherin boy. She would feel her arm snap as it made impact, she should not have tried to brace her fall. The side of her face , the same side as her broken arm also smashed into the unforgiving, dirty stone wall leaving a trail of grime on the side of her face, a bruise beneath on her cheekbone and force her jaw to close on her tongue. She could feel her mouth fill with a metallic taste, it was blood of course. She would swallow the bitter but some would escape from the corner of her mouth.
"Harder..." she muttered as she spat blood into the nearby sink. She was acting tough but she was having difficulty trying to stand. She was breathing hard but she was undeterred. She ran her hand through her hair, feeling the sticky wet as she tried to move the hair from her face. The blood like an adhesive as she slicked her hair back. "At least you're willing to play rough," a begrudged statement of respect even if it hardly sounded like one. It did not mean she would offer or that she sought mercy.
"Take out your wand, worm, now it's your turn to feel something,"
There was a spark, a flash of gold in her otherwise dark and cloudy eyes when he said that. "A girl can only hope," she coughed and oddly enough let out a low laugh. She would reach for her holster, across herself with her unbroken arm. her fingers quivered, not from fear but from physical pain. Shame it could not be both. It was only a token gesture, she could hardly cast Lumos. She might be a fine academic, but in the practical sense she simply lacked the passion for casting.
She would swallow a mouthful of blood. Her expression tired but she was unwilling to stand down. She would look at Sebastian's face and try to emulate his smile. She was a mirror, the only mirror left in this space after they had broken the ones that hung here. "What's this?" She was referring to the smile, but her statement was not entirely clear. "Is this happy?" She did not feel anything coming off from him if it was and she tightened her grip around the shaft of the wand. "Or is happiness a lie>" It should not astonish her that it was, the only true sentiments she had ever felt were those that she stole from others. That flash of color in a word of grey was always a shade of melancholy or rage.
"Let's see why you would rather resort to fists over magic, hm? Let's discover how truly useless you really are... in fact, I'd suggest you stop being a fool, but by this point I suppose it's become habit for you."
He noticed that did he?
She could not cast but she could lie. With her non-dominant hand she would raise the wand in response to Sebastian's approach. "Fine," she snapped as she approached Sebastian. A mistake on his part, proximity was her strength not his.
"Show me... show me the level of your inadequacy, you poor. Broken. Thing."
"I cast..." she would wave the wand about in wiggling motion that closely resembled an S. It was the wand motion for a taboo curse. "The curse of gnomish cockpunch!" She should have thought that through better, wand in her left, a broken right she should have kicked. Indeed, Erin cast fist. if she made impact, she would regret it as pain surged up her broken arm and caused her bones to shift. She might even yell louder than Sebastian, even if his children were born with black eyes.
If she missed, she would attempt to sweep his legs. She needed to be faster than Sebastian's casting. She was thankfully agile, quick and strong. However with the flick of his wrist she could be knocked down. It was a fact she had wrestled with since she had come to Hogwarts, just most students were unwilling to raise their wands. Most crawled into a hole and cried.
The words she wrote were in Latin, one of the languages she was mostly fluent in. One a great number of purebloods were fluent in. It was a mostly forgotten, old language however in her experience, like every wizard's she understood the power behind those words. Few consider why words have the power they do, or where their meaning came from but the legacy of magic went back to the first words uttered by an antediluvian man. The first... the oldest... the purest. At least that is what she had come the believe, as had many others. That the genesis of magic and its power came from the earliest people, that the first words were not confabulations but the true names for all that was within the word and the divine command they had over it. But was word the first thing one used to wield dominion over the environment and over one another. No, action came before words. One had to move their lips, wave their hands. Therefore motion was older than words. But there was an older power still, intention and passion. One had to intend to move their lips and wave their hands, grip the fine wooden wand or stir that cauldron.
Intention, passion and thought were the first, the most carnal and true reservoir for magic. Or so her family believed. Or so she believed. However her well was dry and it had been since the day she was born. It would be easy to blame her condition on a fiend, a demon, a spirit, a terrible curse but for her that was never the case. She was simply born wrong. Did her parents share in her affliction? Perhaps, if they had they had chose to never reveal this fact to her but it would explain why she never partook of either as a meal.
She had learned to "fake it" of course, fear and regret. People wanted to see you lament your wrongs, otherwise another lashing. She did not care about pain beyond the fact that it was a symptom, a biological signal that her body was in peril. That was an issue of course, fear of pain is a protective mechanism built into humans for the purpose of protecting their form. Giving them reason to evade risk. Something that she should have felt more than she had when Leeds entered this space, locked the door and stripped off his coat. His intention was a confrontation but he had miscalculated and she had the upper hand when she assaulted him. When she decided to make him regret hunting her.
She should have been flattered by all of this attention, in fact if she could be she would be. She would barely notice his creeping hand as she carved that word into his collar. It might prove ironic later. Sebastian's wand would slip free, all thirty-some centimeters. And who says size does not matter?
"You wanted to know how loud I screamed?"
Sebastian replied to the brute's rants.
She did, she really did. She of course knew something was wrong, there was a change in him. Logically she knew, even if emotively the impulse to flee lacked. She did not check for the wand in her wasitband, not overconfident that Leeds would not wiggle it free but rather...
"I'll show you..."
There was a study in 2010 that validated the claim that you can see a man;s intention in their eyes. The pupils dilate approximately one full second before an action is made. Fascinating study really, subjects were given a button and a ten second span to press the button within. The dilation of the eyes correlated with the moment chose to press the button. One second prior, the pupils would dilate and then an action would transpire. It was a whole cascade of chemicals in the brain. Regardless, there was not much she could do in a single second had she decided that she wanted to remain on top.
His wand to her chest, his movement of the narrow length of hardwood was tiny and precise.
"Flipendo."
Blue lights dominated her sight for a moment and that was before she was hurled across the room. Back into the wall, the sinks and the fractured mirror. The small of her back would hit the porcelain basin hard. She would yell out in pain as her back arched, the unmovable object has only halted her lower torso's advance. Her hands would instinctively attempt to grip the lip of the sink, she would try to control her forceful fall but the surface too smooth, too slick even with the layer of filth and grime. Her head would fall back, propelled by the force of the flippendo as well as the rotational nature of velocity being abruptly halted on the small of her back. Her head would crash into what was left of the mirror and she would hit it hard. A searing white would dominate her vision for a moment as the impact left her seeing stars. The back of her head would feel hot and damp, a shard of glass had cut her deeply her scalp.
She would make a noise, it resembled a moan or a groan perhaps. She was disoriented. She would blink, the room was too bright. It was too dark. Wait, she blinked then. Merlin, too bright again! She would slide off the sink, a deep ache felt in her lower back, there would be a massive bruise there when this encounter was done. She would not fall however, she would catch herself on the edge of the sink with her hand. She would grab hold of the stable structure, half-ignoring the glass that found its way into her hand as she tightened her hold and unsteadily returned to her feet.
It was a shame that she did not feel mad. In fact she was very very hungry. She thought the she was getting something out of the doorknob of a boy but the cruel little monster half played dead once she got him onto the floor.
"Aw, poor little girl."
Her taunted.
"You still don't have any idea, do you? You're playing a game of cat and mouse, but I'm looking on a chessboard."
"Damn house elf in bloodied boys clothes," she muttered as she tried to get her bearings.
"Flipendo."
She heard the words, saw the blue flash of light and she tried to move. She tried to get out of its way, but rather it sent her askew, her forearm cracked against the stone wall adjacent to the mirror several feet further from the Slytherin boy. She would feel her arm snap as it made impact, she should not have tried to brace her fall. The side of her face , the same side as her broken arm also smashed into the unforgiving, dirty stone wall leaving a trail of grime on the side of her face, a bruise beneath on her cheekbone and force her jaw to close on her tongue. She could feel her mouth fill with a metallic taste, it was blood of course. She would swallow the bitter but some would escape from the corner of her mouth.
"Harder..." she muttered as she spat blood into the nearby sink. She was acting tough but she was having difficulty trying to stand. She was breathing hard but she was undeterred. She ran her hand through her hair, feeling the sticky wet as she tried to move the hair from her face. The blood like an adhesive as she slicked her hair back. "At least you're willing to play rough," a begrudged statement of respect even if it hardly sounded like one. It did not mean she would offer or that she sought mercy.
"Take out your wand, worm, now it's your turn to feel something,"
There was a spark, a flash of gold in her otherwise dark and cloudy eyes when he said that. "A girl can only hope," she coughed and oddly enough let out a low laugh. She would reach for her holster, across herself with her unbroken arm. her fingers quivered, not from fear but from physical pain. Shame it could not be both. It was only a token gesture, she could hardly cast Lumos. She might be a fine academic, but in the practical sense she simply lacked the passion for casting.
She would swallow a mouthful of blood. Her expression tired but she was unwilling to stand down. She would look at Sebastian's face and try to emulate his smile. She was a mirror, the only mirror left in this space after they had broken the ones that hung here. "What's this?" She was referring to the smile, but her statement was not entirely clear. "Is this happy?" She did not feel anything coming off from him if it was and she tightened her grip around the shaft of the wand. "Or is happiness a lie>" It should not astonish her that it was, the only true sentiments she had ever felt were those that she stole from others. That flash of color in a word of grey was always a shade of melancholy or rage.
"Let's see why you would rather resort to fists over magic, hm? Let's discover how truly useless you really are... in fact, I'd suggest you stop being a fool, but by this point I suppose it's become habit for you."
He noticed that did he?
She could not cast but she could lie. With her non-dominant hand she would raise the wand in response to Sebastian's approach. "Fine," she snapped as she approached Sebastian. A mistake on his part, proximity was her strength not his.
"Show me... show me the level of your inadequacy, you poor. Broken. Thing."
"I cast..." she would wave the wand about in wiggling motion that closely resembled an S. It was the wand motion for a taboo curse. "The curse of gnomish cockpunch!" She should have thought that through better, wand in her left, a broken right she should have kicked. Indeed, Erin cast fist. if she made impact, she would regret it as pain surged up her broken arm and caused her bones to shift. She might even yell louder than Sebastian, even if his children were born with black eyes.
If she missed, she would attempt to sweep his legs. She needed to be faster than Sebastian's casting. She was thankfully agile, quick and strong. However with the flick of his wrist she could be knocked down. It was a fact she had wrestled with since she had come to Hogwarts, just most students were unwilling to raise their wands. Most crawled into a hole and cried.
Just a trick of the lighting they said...
28 Jun 2018, 16:48
You...
Content Warning Continues
Reducio
The more Erin spoke, the more insight she gave into who she was. Emotions were difficult for her, if the mention of happiness and other similar questions prior were taken into account, some of her actions now becoming a lot clearer in the intent. The boat, the prodding, the sudden outburst, and the subsequent actions the girl took. There had been some suspicion, some incorrect, about the thing that Sebastian now faced, but it seemed this confrontation was peeling the layer away from Erin - especially since there didn't seem to be many of them, judging by things so far.
Sebastian circled, ensuring to keep his distance. Now that the boy had what he wanted, Sebastian wouldn't be so foolish as to let Erin get within striking distance, not again. Not unless he wanted her to. Besides, the spells the Prefect had cast were effective, causing Erin some physical damage; the blood from the mouth, the clearly broken arm, all told that she was on her last legs. In comparison, Sebastian wasn't in great shape either, but the cuts on his neck were held firmly, stemming most of the bleeding, and the cuts on his back and shoulders and scalp were less severe... or so he hoped, considering most of his body felt like it was burning hot, the pain throbbing and running up and down his spine.
"Happiness?" Sebastian repeated, the smile unwavering, the mask in place. His eyes didn't show the same emotion, however. "You tell me... you're the one who doesn't seem to know. Or is it feel? I really couldn't care less."
Even as Erin closed the distance, wand in left hand, Sebastian was ready. He suspected what she might try, given the realization about her preference for fighting rather than dueling, not to mention the strength she displayed. If the Prefect cared, he might have felt a little embarrassed by being overpowered by a girl, but he was logical enough to know children had different development stages, and Erin's was clearly earlier - unlike her mental stability. And when she began performing a cast, Sebastian was already reacting.
"Mucus ad Nauseam," Sebastian said, eyes narrowed as he performed the teardrop wand movement, the end of the weapon emitting a green flash of light. He was also not surprised by Erin's shift in tactic to a more physical response, trying for a punch that missed the boy's lower regions - he dodged back. "Don't choke now, Erin. All that blood and-- ack!"
The sudden sweeping kick she did took Sebastian by some surprise, her leg catching his own despite the Prefect moving backward to put space between them. The hit caused Sebastian to stumble as one leg was knocked out from under him, and his one remaining leg giving out, forcing a fall to a knee. The pieces of glass scattered throughout the area found home through the thin pant material, causing the boy to grit his teeth and growl. At some point, someone had to drop, and considering Erin's condition was now worse than his own, Sebastian knew it was only a matter of time...
"You don't seem to learn," The boy muttered, as he released his neck and used the nearby central basin to lift himself up, avoiding damaging his hand on the glass covered ground. His next words were punctuated by a small head spin, likely from the large crimson patch on his shirt front. "A very poor trait for a Slytherin. Shows a lack of -- a lack of adaptability to overcome an opponent."
The wounds on Sebastian's neck were still bleeding, so once he was standing and out of striking distance from the deranged girl, he put his left hand over the wounds again. His hand felt slick, his body tired, his legs like wobbling jelly - with one of the calves now likely bruised, and a knee with shards of glass in it. It annoyed Sebastian that he would likely be picking glass from his body for days to come, but at least the wounds would be mostly superficial, or so he hoped, considering.
Heh. The pair undoubtedly looked a real sight, and Sebastian could only imagine what it would appear as if someone entered the area. But, with the door locked, the likelihood of a student appearing was small, however there was definitely a lot of noise that could draw some kind of attention... or maybe not, it remained to be seen.
"You're used to getting your way," Sebastian muttered, his face passive, his eyes staring and lips a thin line. "But you're not winning this one, Erin. This time, it's you who has to answer for your actions, has -- has to deal with the Professor's questions... and I can't wait until you try to claim I was responsible for this, like the boat."
Please make it that easy for me, Sebastian thought, that smirk returning to the edges of his mouth. Cry your tears, blame me, put the nail in your own coffin... I'm ready this time.
With a grunt, and a pain in his knee - and, truly his entire body at this point - Sebastian waited for Erin to give up, or pass out, or simply die. He didn't care at this point, so long as she understood the position they were in, and that Sebastian wouldn't lay down until it was done; he had had enough, and Erin wouldn't have the satisfaction she had with the boat, not now and not again...
"If you get up... I'm putting you straight back down again. Stay down."
┍━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 🆂🅻🆈🆃🅷🅴🆁🅸🅽 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┑
The more Erin spoke, the more insight she gave into who she was. Emotions were difficult for her, if the mention of happiness and other similar questions prior were taken into account, some of her actions now becoming a lot clearer in the intent. The boat, the prodding, the sudden outburst, and the subsequent actions the girl took. There had been some suspicion, some incorrect, about the thing that Sebastian now faced, but it seemed this confrontation was peeling the layer away from Erin - especially since there didn't seem to be many of them, judging by things so far.
Sebastian circled, ensuring to keep his distance. Now that the boy had what he wanted, Sebastian wouldn't be so foolish as to let Erin get within striking distance, not again. Not unless he wanted her to. Besides, the spells the Prefect had cast were effective, causing Erin some physical damage; the blood from the mouth, the clearly broken arm, all told that she was on her last legs. In comparison, Sebastian wasn't in great shape either, but the cuts on his neck were held firmly, stemming most of the bleeding, and the cuts on his back and shoulders and scalp were less severe... or so he hoped, considering most of his body felt like it was burning hot, the pain throbbing and running up and down his spine.
"Happiness?" Sebastian repeated, the smile unwavering, the mask in place. His eyes didn't show the same emotion, however. "You tell me... you're the one who doesn't seem to know. Or is it feel? I really couldn't care less."
Even as Erin closed the distance, wand in left hand, Sebastian was ready. He suspected what she might try, given the realization about her preference for fighting rather than dueling, not to mention the strength she displayed. If the Prefect cared, he might have felt a little embarrassed by being overpowered by a girl, but he was logical enough to know children had different development stages, and Erin's was clearly earlier - unlike her mental stability. And when she began performing a cast, Sebastian was already reacting.
"Mucus ad Nauseam," Sebastian said, eyes narrowed as he performed the teardrop wand movement, the end of the weapon emitting a green flash of light. He was also not surprised by Erin's shift in tactic to a more physical response, trying for a punch that missed the boy's lower regions - he dodged back. "Don't choke now, Erin. All that blood and-- ack!"
The sudden sweeping kick she did took Sebastian by some surprise, her leg catching his own despite the Prefect moving backward to put space between them. The hit caused Sebastian to stumble as one leg was knocked out from under him, and his one remaining leg giving out, forcing a fall to a knee. The pieces of glass scattered throughout the area found home through the thin pant material, causing the boy to grit his teeth and growl. At some point, someone had to drop, and considering Erin's condition was now worse than his own, Sebastian knew it was only a matter of time...
"You don't seem to learn," The boy muttered, as he released his neck and used the nearby central basin to lift himself up, avoiding damaging his hand on the glass covered ground. His next words were punctuated by a small head spin, likely from the large crimson patch on his shirt front. "A very poor trait for a Slytherin. Shows a lack of -- a lack of adaptability to overcome an opponent."
The wounds on Sebastian's neck were still bleeding, so once he was standing and out of striking distance from the deranged girl, he put his left hand over the wounds again. His hand felt slick, his body tired, his legs like wobbling jelly - with one of the calves now likely bruised, and a knee with shards of glass in it. It annoyed Sebastian that he would likely be picking glass from his body for days to come, but at least the wounds would be mostly superficial, or so he hoped, considering.
Heh. The pair undoubtedly looked a real sight, and Sebastian could only imagine what it would appear as if someone entered the area. But, with the door locked, the likelihood of a student appearing was small, however there was definitely a lot of noise that could draw some kind of attention... or maybe not, it remained to be seen.
"You're used to getting your way," Sebastian muttered, his face passive, his eyes staring and lips a thin line. "But you're not winning this one, Erin. This time, it's you who has to answer for your actions, has -- has to deal with the Professor's questions... and I can't wait until you try to claim I was responsible for this, like the boat."
Please make it that easy for me, Sebastian thought, that smirk returning to the edges of his mouth. Cry your tears, blame me, put the nail in your own coffin... I'm ready this time.
With a grunt, and a pain in his knee - and, truly his entire body at this point - Sebastian waited for Erin to give up, or pass out, or simply die. He didn't care at this point, so long as she understood the position they were in, and that Sebastian wouldn't lay down until it was done; he had had enough, and Erin wouldn't have the satisfaction she had with the boat, not now and not again...
"If you get up... I'm putting you straight back down again. Stay down."
Sebastian Leeds
Sta: 5 | Agi: 8 | Str: 1 | Con: 7 | Arc: 6 | Acc: 8
Sta: 5 | Agi: 8 | Str: 1 | Con: 7 | Arc: 6 | Acc: 8
28 Jun 2018, 22:17
You...
Not as bad, but pretty gross. Content warning...
Reducio
Erin was a beast of instinct, a brute bereft of sentiments of her own. It made her a monster of her own making, society is structured on a moral paradigm that was one part consequentialist and another part emotive. She understood the concept of consequence and emotion but they were tied in an intimate matter where neither could truly hold her hostage. What consequence could this school offer -- the loss of her time as she wasted a few evenings in detention? The threat of a lashing that would never come and even if it did she was capable of enduring and she knew no fear, making it a rather poor deterrent. There was only one thing that she cared about and oddly enough Sebastian was providing her with her heart's content.
"Happiness?"
He repeated. She was truly curious, she had not felt this sensation before. It was a menace, a malice and then something else. Perhaps it was her imagination. but she breathed it in all the same. Was this the ambrosia known as felicity? She breathed it in, whatever it was as the same. Even the pain, that angry sting she felt from the gashes and the deep ache she felt in her bones dulled quickly enough plunging her back into the monotony she knew of as her existence. Even her personal anguish, respite because it gave her something to feel. In the absence of emotions, it was the rod of the disciplinarian that gave shape to her otherwise formless day.
But today, it hurt just a little more than he was ready to endure. Today she felt something and was left to wonder if it was his or if it was her own.
"You tell me... you're the one who doesn't seem to know. Or is it feel? I really couldn't care less."
He was right in both regards. She would not feel anything on her own, that was why she required him. But he never answered her question either. He probably did not know either, they rarely did. "I don't care what it is now that I have it," she spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor. "You don't seem smart enough to know anyways," her hand shot out and she attempted to punch him in the junk but as she did so Sebastian cast another spell. "But I always find a use." Out of the corner of her eye she could see his wand twitch. She was too close to evade it so she was going to bull through it.
"Mucus ad Nauseam,"
He declared and she could feel the effects almost immediately. She felt as if she was punched in the gut rather than Leeds in his lower region. She would miss as she buckled over. She could feel her sinus' fill, blood mixed with phlegm would roll down the back of her throat unsettling her stomach. She would attempt to kick out his legs in a desperate move to get the prefect back on the glass and blood-covered floor.
The two of them would likely end up killing each other. She was fearless because she did not know how to fear, Sebastian would unlikely recognize the sentiment if he even felt it. She sought rage and reflected it. It was the easiest for her to emulate because it was the easiest for her to draw from others. At times she even believed that she felt it, if she concentrated hard enough.
"Don't choke now, Erin. All that blood and-- ack!"
She could feel it climb the back of her throat, a hot, burning sense and a bitter taste that would mingle with the metal in her mouth. She would swallow hard as her leg kicked the back of his knee and knocked him to the ground.
"hup, buumg, bleeegh .... mmmbuueeeeeghhh *caugh caugh cuagh*"
That inglorious sound was Erin vomiting, potentially all over Sebastian. It would be amazing how much barf a young girl could hold and ultimately dispel.
Perhaps he avoided the worst of it. Hopefully for his sake he did, it would appear that she had spaghetti and meatballs for lunch. Evidence of this was somewhat obvious.
"You don't seem to learn."
Sebastian announced.
"Learn what," she coughed. Another of blood laced spaghetti vomit would fall from her mouth as she braced herself with the sink. It felt as if she was a tube of toothpaste being rolled up from the other end. Her gastric contents spilling from her mouth as she made retching noises.
"Hugh... Huih... Heiya!"
Worst first date ever.
"A very poor trait for a Slytherin. Shows a lack of -- a lack of adaptability to overcome an opponent."
He taunted the Slytherin deviant.
"Merlin, it just keeps coming!" A horrible gurgle erupted from her throat. "Hieve!" There was a terrible plopping noise as another burst of vomit evacuated from her tiny (not comparatively obviously) body.
"You're used to getting your way."
She would eye him, her fluid losses seemed to continue to climb.
"But you're not winning this one, Erin. This time, it's you who has to answer for your actions, has -- has to deal with the Professor's questions... and I can't wait until you try to claim I was responsible for this, like the boat."
She could not help but laugh at his hubris. "I am getting everything I ever wanted... *Cuf* Urgh Hublah!" what was being expelled had turned to bile, there was hardly a clean space in this abandoned bathroom at this point. Perhaps she was mad. Well, that was obvious at this point. However, he was not much better than her mentally. "Do you think you will be seen as a victim?" She was reminding him of an important fact that he had obviously forgotten despite his 'cool' demeanor. "A curse --Huragh!" A mouthful of dark blood mostly. "A broken-- a-rm," she thought at least it was. She was right, it was not supposed to bend that way. "Obvious... deep injuries." She would reach down and pick up a vomit-covered shard of glass. As she did so she would retch and fall to her knees. The room was swimming around her. She was not feeling very well. "L-ooks like you are trying to kill me..." she commented, a threat hinted in her words. She had not cast a single spell, her wand was as cold as a grave. Between the two of them, she was the most injured.
She knew how to cry.
She was smart enough as to remind the professors that he had cast spells on her. She might not be able to *prove* the flippendo but the curse of the boogies was pretty obvious. Prove a few points, the evidence can be used to substantiate other claims. She fought back in self-defense. The brute almost killed her. She could tie this to the boat incident, he followed... or better yet lured her here. As physically damaged as she is now, thank Merlin worse did not happen. Thank Merlin for that at least.
Worst case, they 'victim blame' her, at least that would be her claim if they poke any holes in her story. There were a few, she was only twelve after all.
"If you get up... I'm putting you straight back down again. Stay down."
Sebastian commanded. The boy had a better chance herding cats than he would getting Erin to listen to him. She was stubborn, arrogant and incredibly determined. "Not a chance, pervert." She had nothing left to vomit, but stomach acid and bile would still crawl up her throat making her cough. "At least that is the story I am going to tell again, but this time with injuries." She would bring her bloodied hand to the collar of her own shirt. With a hard tug she would rip the first three buttons off her own blouse. "A broken arm, the victim of an obvious curse," she continued. "You're a sick boy luring me here, you did not think I would fight back did you?" This was the story she was going with.
She thought back to the Prefect Towers. How she felt. How she made the dull as dishwater girl feel. She felt sad, embarrassed, guilty but also angry. Sad about the state of things. Embarrassed that she was in the situation she was, of course she felt the way she did because she was a burden. In Erin's version of things, embarrassed that she was 'tricked' as she was. That she almost... That he nearly... Guilty, in Serena's case that she might have allowed this to happen. That she made things worse for her friends. In Erin's case, she could play it off as self-blame. Victims often blame themselves following their assaults. They were dressed too provocatively. They gave off an unintentional signal. Maybe they knew that the drink they brought over tasted a bit too salty. In Erin's case, she was his partner in the boat ride, maybe he took that as a sign of interest. Such a tiny boy... it was likely hard for him to find a girlfriend. After she recoiled from that incident she should never have accepted his stated, private apology. She never should have agreed to meet him here to talk things out. She should have known that this was going to happen. Perhaps in a way she was asking for it. Angry. Serena was angry at Erin for rubbing her face in the near tragedy. Erin could be mad at Sebastian for what he did... what he almost did.
Yeah... that was the story she was going to tell the Professors when they came. Her face twitched as she forced her mouth to find the expression she saw and felt in Serena. Her eyes would dull, a deep sadness. A cold chill would run down the back of her spine as she reminded herself of what fear was conceivably supposed to feel like. She was dehydrated but she would still find the resources to make tears. Large, wet tears. She would start sobbing between dry heaves.
Yet her words would not reflect her expression. "They will never believe you."
"Happiness?"
He repeated. She was truly curious, she had not felt this sensation before. It was a menace, a malice and then something else. Perhaps it was her imagination. but she breathed it in all the same. Was this the ambrosia known as felicity? She breathed it in, whatever it was as the same. Even the pain, that angry sting she felt from the gashes and the deep ache she felt in her bones dulled quickly enough plunging her back into the monotony she knew of as her existence. Even her personal anguish, respite because it gave her something to feel. In the absence of emotions, it was the rod of the disciplinarian that gave shape to her otherwise formless day.
But today, it hurt just a little more than he was ready to endure. Today she felt something and was left to wonder if it was his or if it was her own.
"You tell me... you're the one who doesn't seem to know. Or is it feel? I really couldn't care less."
He was right in both regards. She would not feel anything on her own, that was why she required him. But he never answered her question either. He probably did not know either, they rarely did. "I don't care what it is now that I have it," she spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor. "You don't seem smart enough to know anyways," her hand shot out and she attempted to punch him in the junk but as she did so Sebastian cast another spell. "But I always find a use." Out of the corner of her eye she could see his wand twitch. She was too close to evade it so she was going to bull through it.
"Mucus ad Nauseam,"
He declared and she could feel the effects almost immediately. She felt as if she was punched in the gut rather than Leeds in his lower region. She would miss as she buckled over. She could feel her sinus' fill, blood mixed with phlegm would roll down the back of her throat unsettling her stomach. She would attempt to kick out his legs in a desperate move to get the prefect back on the glass and blood-covered floor.
The two of them would likely end up killing each other. She was fearless because she did not know how to fear, Sebastian would unlikely recognize the sentiment if he even felt it. She sought rage and reflected it. It was the easiest for her to emulate because it was the easiest for her to draw from others. At times she even believed that she felt it, if she concentrated hard enough.
"Don't choke now, Erin. All that blood and-- ack!"
She could feel it climb the back of her throat, a hot, burning sense and a bitter taste that would mingle with the metal in her mouth. She would swallow hard as her leg kicked the back of his knee and knocked him to the ground.
"hup, buumg, bleeegh .... mmmbuueeeeeghhh *caugh caugh cuagh*"
That inglorious sound was Erin vomiting, potentially all over Sebastian. It would be amazing how much barf a young girl could hold and ultimately dispel.
Perhaps he avoided the worst of it. Hopefully for his sake he did, it would appear that she had spaghetti and meatballs for lunch. Evidence of this was somewhat obvious.
"You don't seem to learn."
Sebastian announced.
"Learn what," she coughed. Another of blood laced spaghetti vomit would fall from her mouth as she braced herself with the sink. It felt as if she was a tube of toothpaste being rolled up from the other end. Her gastric contents spilling from her mouth as she made retching noises.
"Hugh... Huih... Heiya!"
Worst first date ever.
"A very poor trait for a Slytherin. Shows a lack of -- a lack of adaptability to overcome an opponent."
He taunted the Slytherin deviant.
"Merlin, it just keeps coming!" A horrible gurgle erupted from her throat. "Hieve!" There was a terrible plopping noise as another burst of vomit evacuated from her tiny (not comparatively obviously) body.
"You're used to getting your way."
She would eye him, her fluid losses seemed to continue to climb.
"But you're not winning this one, Erin. This time, it's you who has to answer for your actions, has -- has to deal with the Professor's questions... and I can't wait until you try to claim I was responsible for this, like the boat."
She could not help but laugh at his hubris. "I am getting everything I ever wanted... *Cuf* Urgh Hublah!" what was being expelled had turned to bile, there was hardly a clean space in this abandoned bathroom at this point. Perhaps she was mad. Well, that was obvious at this point. However, he was not much better than her mentally. "Do you think you will be seen as a victim?" She was reminding him of an important fact that he had obviously forgotten despite his 'cool' demeanor. "A curse --Huragh!" A mouthful of dark blood mostly. "A broken-- a-rm," she thought at least it was. She was right, it was not supposed to bend that way. "Obvious... deep injuries." She would reach down and pick up a vomit-covered shard of glass. As she did so she would retch and fall to her knees. The room was swimming around her. She was not feeling very well. "L-ooks like you are trying to kill me..." she commented, a threat hinted in her words. She had not cast a single spell, her wand was as cold as a grave. Between the two of them, she was the most injured.
She knew how to cry.
She was smart enough as to remind the professors that he had cast spells on her. She might not be able to *prove* the flippendo but the curse of the boogies was pretty obvious. Prove a few points, the evidence can be used to substantiate other claims. She fought back in self-defense. The brute almost killed her. She could tie this to the boat incident, he followed... or better yet lured her here. As physically damaged as she is now, thank Merlin worse did not happen. Thank Merlin for that at least.
Worst case, they 'victim blame' her, at least that would be her claim if they poke any holes in her story. There were a few, she was only twelve after all.
"If you get up... I'm putting you straight back down again. Stay down."
Sebastian commanded. The boy had a better chance herding cats than he would getting Erin to listen to him. She was stubborn, arrogant and incredibly determined. "Not a chance, pervert." She had nothing left to vomit, but stomach acid and bile would still crawl up her throat making her cough. "At least that is the story I am going to tell again, but this time with injuries." She would bring her bloodied hand to the collar of her own shirt. With a hard tug she would rip the first three buttons off her own blouse. "A broken arm, the victim of an obvious curse," she continued. "You're a sick boy luring me here, you did not think I would fight back did you?" This was the story she was going with.
She thought back to the Prefect Towers. How she felt. How she made the dull as dishwater girl feel. She felt sad, embarrassed, guilty but also angry. Sad about the state of things. Embarrassed that she was in the situation she was, of course she felt the way she did because she was a burden. In Erin's version of things, embarrassed that she was 'tricked' as she was. That she almost... That he nearly... Guilty, in Serena's case that she might have allowed this to happen. That she made things worse for her friends. In Erin's case, she could play it off as self-blame. Victims often blame themselves following their assaults. They were dressed too provocatively. They gave off an unintentional signal. Maybe they knew that the drink they brought over tasted a bit too salty. In Erin's case, she was his partner in the boat ride, maybe he took that as a sign of interest. Such a tiny boy... it was likely hard for him to find a girlfriend. After she recoiled from that incident she should never have accepted his stated, private apology. She never should have agreed to meet him here to talk things out. She should have known that this was going to happen. Perhaps in a way she was asking for it. Angry. Serena was angry at Erin for rubbing her face in the near tragedy. Erin could be mad at Sebastian for what he did... what he almost did.
Yeah... that was the story she was going to tell the Professors when they came. Her face twitched as she forced her mouth to find the expression she saw and felt in Serena. Her eyes would dull, a deep sadness. A cold chill would run down the back of her spine as she reminded herself of what fear was conceivably supposed to feel like. She was dehydrated but she would still find the resources to make tears. Large, wet tears. She would start sobbing between dry heaves.
Yet her words would not reflect her expression. "They will never believe you."
Just a trick of the lighting they said...