blackout open

Interacting with: @Ivy Bellamy @Faye Simmons @Regina Miller Mentioning: @Rita Su @Sienna Lenoir

───────────────────

Date: 7th October 2022 Time: Lunch Outfit: Uniform

Did she believe Regina? No, not really. She did have a brain, and she was intelligent enough to know that even a Duelist wouldn't be this great at helping a fainted person. She was an aspiring Duelist herself, and she didn't know. Sure, they likely learned the basics of helping a fainted person, but Regina had moved with the air of someone who had done it many times before. But she didn't care enough to pry. It didn't matter how Regina had acquired the skill, all that mattered was that she had helped Ivy, who was Adelaide's primary concern at this point.

"If you say so," she responded, leaving the conversation at that and turning her full attention back to Ivy, trying to ignore everyone around her in hopes that the older Gryffindor would wake up soon.

She couldn't scream at anyone right now, even though she wanted to tell everyone to leave. She had to control her anger. She really, really needed to, because right now Ivy needed her. Sure, the girl was still unconscious, but she would wake up any minute now and being greeted by screaming and curse words flying left and right, Adelaide being the primary cause of that, wasn't ever a nice way to come back to the land of the living. She'd let someone else deal with the Gryffindor and any other nosy newcomers that decided they were more interested in the group gathering around a poor unconscious girl than eating their lunch.

Some other girl made her way other to the group, an unfamiliar Hufflepuff, and Adelaide had to try her hardest to control herself and focus on anything else except screaming at the poor girl. Thankfully, she didn't need to, considering the unfamiliar Ravenclaw who seemed cozy with Regina had done it for her. A chuckle left the blonde's month - the first positive thing to leave Adelaide's mouth since she had walked into the Great Hall - at the Ravenclaw's insults towards the Hufflepuff. Now that she was staring at the other Ravenclaw, she did vaguely recognize her from somewhere. It was likely that they had probably seen each other in the common room before, but Adelaide was certain she knew her from elsewhere. She narrowed her eyes slightly, trying to wrack her brain for the girl's name, because she knew she knew it. A slight glimpse around the hall, or at least what she could see through the crowd that had gathered, and then it hit her. Her eyes darted back to the blonde girl, "Hey, aren't you that psycho who threw food at someone during the Welcome Feast? Faye Simmons, is it?"

Okay, probably not the best thing to get distracted by right now. Calling someone a psycho wasn't the nicest thing, and she didn't need another argument to erupt. She turned her attention back to Ivy, who still hadn't woken up. Merlin, Hurry up. Please. Adelaide briefly registered the Gryffindor girl hyperventilating in the corner, but if she thought any of them were going to care when Ivy was already unconscious, then she'd be better off finding another group of people to be the center of attention for. Her lips tilted up into an amused smirk at Regina's remark towards the hyperventilating Gryffindor, but she quickly schooled her face back into neutrality because she definitely didn't find her second cousin amusing. No, Regina was the bane of her existence, and Adelaide was only tolerating her right now because she was helping Ivy.

A hum caught Adelaide's attention, and the blonde's head swung back around towards Ivy, who had finally woken up. Adelaide shot forward to hold the older girl's hair up when Ivy leaned over to one side, but her hands came back down to her side awkwardly when Ivy only gagged. She still had the letter in her hand, so she set it down beside Ivy before cautiously scooting closer to the girl. She didn't know what to say. Now that Ivy was actually awake, words left Adelaide, and all the anger that she had felt dissipated. Her heart broke for the girl she viewed as a sister, and she lay a cautious hand slowly on Ivy's shoulder. "Hey, hey," she spoke softly, trying to pour as much comfort into her voice as she physically could, "how about we get out of here, yeah? Go somewhere more quiet."

All she wanted to do was pull Ivy in for a hug, but she knew it would be too much. Too overwhelming for her. She'd just woken up after fainting, and everything was hitting her like a truck again. "You're going to be okay, it's going to be okay. I'm here." It sounded false even to her own ears, but she truly didn't know what to do. She just needed to get Ivy out of here, away from curious eyes, and away from all the screaming and shouting that had happened here.

There were so many things happening around Samantha. The young girl felt herself getting a bit overwhelmed but she knew she couldn't show anybody that. As prefect, she was expected to help and know what to do. If there was something that Samantha hated, it was not being in control, which was exactly what was happening at that very moment. One of the other girls (June) finally told her the girl's name, Ivy. Okay, at least she knew that now.

When Regina's familiar voice reached her ears, Samantha looked up in relief. Finally, somebody she knew! Somebody who knew what to do. "Regina! I am so glad you are here," she told her friend. The young prefect would never admit it but she had no idea what she had to do when somebody fainted, so she was extremely glad her friend did.

However, not everybody seemed really happy to see the Gryffindor. One of the other girls, the one who had previously snapped at her (Adelaide), told Regina she wasn't needed there. Samantha glared at the girl who had the audacity to talk to her friend like that. "At least she knows what to do, which is more than I can say of you," the brunette rolled her eyes.

It took the prefect a few seconds to notice when Ivy started waking up but as soon as Samantha realized it, all her attention was on the girl. "Take it easy," she told the girl softly. "We don't want you to faint again." Samantha could feel the pain that showed in Ivy's eyes. The idea of losing her sister was heartbreaking and she hoped it would never happen to her.

"We should get her to the hospital wing, so the nurse can check her," the brunette told Adelaide. Even though the girl had snapped at her and been unnecessarily rude to Regina, she clearly cared about Ivy. Samantha's clear blue eyes searched for Regina in the group, hoping to find some support from her friend.

interacting with @samantha salwis @adelaide barlowe

trigger warning: this is very much focused on grief after the death of a loved one and ivy's thoughts that transpire afterwards, which are relatively intense and descriptive; if this is something that triggers you, please consider not reading the following post.

When Alison died last year, Ivy had gone through a months-long period of numbness and disbelief where she'd tried to carry on as if nothing had happened. Her grief had been slow and quiet then, slowly creeping up on her over the months like roots of a tree steadily growing towards the surface. Alison's death had felt like a shaken up can of soda that bubbled open over time, numbness melting away into sadness like ice on a hot day.

She'd felt like she was lying at the bottom of a lake, unable to move or cry for help as everyone else walked along the path, never once looking down at her. Like she was behind a double-sided mirror, watching life move forward without her as she stayed behind, trapped in her memories and banging on the window to no avail. And she had thought that was bad, and that surely nothing could get worse than this.

Now she knew the denial had been her mind's twisted version of mercy. This grief was not behind a mirror, but messily splayed out in the open for everyone to see. This grief could not be wiped away with a dishcloth as spilled soda or a puddle of melted ice could be; it was a sharp, sharp knife twisting cruelly through her heart. This grief was not a cold, calm lake that she lay stiffly at the bottom of. No, this grief had come like the choppy waves at the beach on a stormy day, pinning her down and dragging her deeper underwater every time she tried to stand up. When she tried to take a breath, the heavy sensation in her lungs only burned harder, and the worst part was, this grief could hurt people other than herself. Ivy was like a leaky quill, and her feelings were the ink, staining everyone who tried to help.

Perhaps that was why she jerked away from Adelaide's touch when the blonde tried to put a hand on her shoulder, grey eyes sharp with fear and shock. "Don't touch me!" It came out a hysterical screech, far more raw with emotion than she'd intended. She caught the look in Addie's eyes and tore her gaze away quickly, breath hitching in the back of her throat as uneasiness rolled sharply through her stomach. Ivy hated being pitied, being worried over. Hated it. Didn't they have something better to do?

"Go?" It was with an incredulous tone that Ivy echoed Adelaide's suggestion, a soft huff of hollow laughter escaping her lips. Where would they go? Where on this earth would there be enough quiet, enough space for Ivy to explode the way she wanted to without hurting anybody else?

Her sister was dead. Whether she was sitting on the cold floor of the Great Hall or in whatever 'quiet place' Adelaide had in mind, the facts were still the same, because her Lillian was gone and nothing could bring her back. Ivy would never hear Lillian's voice again, never see her smile again, never get to talk to her about anything, never ever again. One would think that the permanence of death would be easier to deal with the second time, but instead it weighed down on her heavier than ever.

She would turn away at Adelaide's insistence that 'it was going to be ok', bottom lip quivering and tears threatening to spill over again. Because as far as she was concerned, it was not.

Ivy caught the end of the brunette prefect's suggestion, picking up on the words hospital wing and nurse. Irrational panic twisted inside of her and the tears went cold on her cheeks. For a moment she forgot how to breathe. "No!" she choked out instinctively, surprised by the fierceness in her voice. Something about the idea of adults getting involved made her antsy and trapped. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and slowly got up off the ground before speaking again, stumbling a little as she did so. "I don't... I don't need..." Ivy folded her arms across her chest in an attempt to make the shaking less obvious and took another breath, trying not to look as nauseous and dizzy as she felt. Did she need a nurse? Probably, yes. But what if he asked why she'd fainted? Ivy did not think she would be able to recount the events of that morning without bursting into tears and spilling her messy, inky grief everywhere. "No nurse," she finally said, as firmly as she could. She was prepared to turn around and run if they insisted.