An Open Door RPG+ Closed

{ Interacting with Anton & Kaegen, mentions Aurelia & Dmitri }

Hjørdis was here for one reason and one reason only. She had made the mistake of thinking the classroom would be empty as there were no scheduled classes. Without intention, she had walked into the event that Professor Nagal was hosting. She would have to deal with the situation later. For now, it was best to leave and return at a more suitable time. Making a mental note to herself that she would have to check for events next time she went to someone's classroom, she glanced around now that she was here.

The students already there appeared to ignore the cauldrons in the room, something she found a little odd, to be quite honest. As a student, Hjørdis would have been the first one there and the first to stick her hand into the cauldrons to figure out what was in each. She loved potion classes, they were among her favourite. Then again, Uagadou did specialise in alchemy, which she was interested in from a young age. The students here seemed to be more interested in the teacher, than the subject. Interesting...

The Head of Slytherin paused for a moment as heard Professor Nagal's voice. He spoke to the young student asking about the forgetfulness potion. Whilst she did not know what happened and what she wanted to forget, Hjørdis understood the desire, nonetheless. There were things that she would have liked to have forgotten too. Alas, she was also warned about the risks of consuming potions regularly. For a few moments, her mind recalled the number of times she had consumed one. In the past month, she had been trying incredibly hard to use them more moderately and sparsely. She was not about to compromise with the risk of her health just to get a good night's sleep. Though, she did not blame the student at all. Had she not known better, she too would want to drink them all the time.

Her attention went back to the present scene as the familiar voice continued to talk. She caught his eye, simply nodding as he shook his head and denied her offer to help. It was enough to give her the perfect reason to turn around and leave the room just as fast as she entered, "Very well," she started to say. She had not intended to get involved in the event, after all. She was glad the room was relatively quiet, she would be able to leave before it got noisy. At least, that was the intention.

Before she could continue to talk, her gaze fell onto the Ravenclaw boy that had walked into the room. Her eyes instantly narrowed as she observed him. It was not his solemn mood, his silence or the fact he was leaving that caught her attention. It was the sheer amount of worry that was surging through her body. The student's sleeve was soaked in blood, torn and exposing fresh wounds as well as older ones. His face had marks all over it. His whole appearance was worrying. The boy seemed to have an answer. He opened his mouth to give it before closing it and just turning to leave. Hjørdis had no idea who the boy was or how he was walking around with such an appearance but it concerned her. Did Hogwarts not do something about such a student?

Shooting a glance towards Nagal, she noticed his attention on the boy as well. She could not help but raise an eyebrow at the man, who suggested that she introduced herself to that 'strapping' fellow. She would have preferred that he dealt with this sort of nuisence himself, so that she could leave. Alas, she understood the intention behind his statement. Hjørdis simply nodded in return and decided to follow through with it this time. Turning back to the Ravenclaw, she took a step or two to break his path, as she was still rooted quite close to the door.

Another student, a Slytherin, walked into him before he could exit the room too. She could not help but raise an eyebrow at the Slytherin student's words. He suggested the hospital wing, before throwing shade towards the professor that he was about to approach. An interesting tactic. Perhaps a bit foolish but nonetheless, interesting. But he was of no concern to her right now. She let him walk off before blocking the Ravenclaw from leaving. "I suggest you take a seat, Mister...?" Hjørdis trailed off, pausing for a moment to indicate that she wanted him to fill in the blanks and give his name. She stared at him with a blank expression on her face, "and that you give me your arm." Her voice was not loud, but each word was given as a firm order. She was not messing around right now. "Care to explain the blood?" She asked as she glanced at his sleeve.

The forgetfulness potion student looked like she was about to leave. Hjørdis shot a glance at her. She would have to watch her more carefully. Whatever happened, whatever she was trying to forget... It was enough to cause her to go to these resorts. Perhaps it was related to the student that had attacked everyone last year. Perhaps it was something else... It would appear that the Dungeons were no longer as quiet and as isolated as Hjørdis would have hoped. The room seemed to get filled with students much faster, all because of the Potions Professor that stood there. Nonetheless, she ignored the other students for now. The priority was the one that looked like he fit in with the walking dead.

As he was leaving, some strange boy bumped into him, put a hand on his shoulder, directly over a more concealed cut, which began stinging with renewed fervor. He then pointed the way to the hospital wing, before leaving to go farther inside the potions classroom. It was things like this that truly befuddled him. First of all, what was the problem? What was so wrong with Kaegen that he had to go to the hospital wing? Nothing was wrong, there was no need. It was a waste of time. The worst thing that some might consider wrong was the bleeding, but that was going to stop on it’s own. No need to worry. The hospital was boring. Kaegen hated boring.

He didn’t say anything, choosing instead to simply stare at the boy as he left. Some people made no sense. On second thought, a lot of people didn’t make any sense. Most didn’t. He turned, about to make another attempt to leave the dungeons when that assistant girl walked over to him. Kae had been tired before, but now he was slightly annoyed. His shoulder had stung because of that other boy, the dungeons were boring and he was tired. More than anything else it was the lack of sleep that was causing the boy to be a lot touchier than he should have been.

His nerves were held together by nothing but some of his more rational fears, desperately clinging on to sanity. When the woman started walking towards him, straight towards him, his pupils started to move, just a little. When she blocked off his path he stopped and stared at her with horribly tired eyes, eyes that were alive, were moving about slowly, shifting pupils warning the boy of what was about to take place, or at least they would have warned him, had he been looking at a mirror, and had he known what it meant in the first place.

To top everything off she called him mister. Mister wasn’t even close to what his name was, he knew that people could call him anything they wanted to, that it didn’t matter as long as he knew his name. But that didn’t stop this from bothering him, just a little. Another straw on the back of the camel. His name had authority passed down from the conqueror of the 14th dark place, it was something special, who he was and why he was.

He stayed standing, kept staring at the living road block in front of him. And then she requested he give her his arm. His arm, was she kidding? That was his, she even admitted it was his. If she wanted his arm she was going to have to be satisfied with a dead one, because that was the only way she was getting it from him. The dangerous black dots started convulsing more, starting getting bigger. If he was going to have to fight his way out of the potions classroom so be it. He could probably handle her, and if not there was always the possibility of causing a distraction with all the volatile potions bottles.

When she asked him to explain the blood, he decided he might as well answer. So, in a voice that sounded more like a rustling whisper than anything one might expect from the mouth of a child, he set off.

”It was a day that happened before today, but not too many days. I had seen a death witch coming towards me from the castle, I was out by the grounds at the time. So I naturally ran towards the forbidden forest.

Here the boy paused to clear his throat, as if unused to speaking for long at all, and already beginning to become hoarse.

”But when I climbed into a tree, something hit me and I fell, over by the Care of Magical Creatures stables. A branch caught my arm as I fell, and when I looked up there was this huge creature staring at me so I escaped. It was probably another death witch, but a big one. It bled for a little bit, but then the other day I used a spell and didn’t quite aim right, so I hit one of the suits of armor. It’s not too bad. Some of the older bruises were from when the name wraith slammed me against the floor of the great hall…

The boy broke off, defiant anger slowly fading as he reminded himself of just how much it hurt. And so he sat down, directly in front of her. Maybe he would follow her suggestion, for now. But he still needed his arm.

Anton’s mood was turning quiet sour, although on the outside, students wouldn’t be able to tell. Perhaps, he figured, Ms. Jensen might be able to see the look of irritation in his eyes, but he let it slip away. As more students came in, he quietly let himself watch. One boy came in and looked like he was rather ill; a girl came in to stick her hands into the mysterious cauldrons; and then a boy who didn’t seem to interact with anything but the books. That was fine. Anton didn’t care what they did as long as they were being safe in his classroom.

The first boy approached, and introduced himself, Anton rose an eyebrow. Dmitri was asking about the cauldrons and then for the smell, although Anton’s face was unchanging. Before he could respond, Aurelia seemed to have a fit and storm off. Temper tantrums. Twelve year olds had them quite often. He’d let her be.

“The use of smell will not aid you in figuring out what is in the mysterious cauldrons, Mr. Jones. I suggest you try to find another way to get the information you’re looking for,” the professor pointed out simply. He studied the second year for a moment before adding, “And if you’re in need of a potion to heal you of your common cold, I suggest you go up to the infirmary. We have a very capable nurse who can make sure you get the correct potion in your system.”

He would, after, excuse himself to mingle with the other students. Of course, if Dmitri had other questions or concerns, Anton would answer them. In the meantime, he’d busy himself with the other people in the classroom.

Ms. Jensen was busy with the boy who didn’t look nearly alive, the Ravenclaw boy he had suggested she took care of earlier. He would stay where he was and observe for a long moment before moving on to the next. He watched as, yet again, another came in to stick their hands into the cauldron, a girl - Eri. He gave a look towards her answers and shook his head, “The items in the cauldron are used in potions. All relatively common. Try again.” It would be the only hint he gave, and that even updated on the board itself.

From there, he moved to the boy studying the various books he had. While Anton was an alchemist, he knew there were more branches than the metallic ones that most people knew about. In fact, most of his alchemy books were on his own level of study. Approaching Cameron, the potion professor simply said, “These books are not going to give you the answers you’re seeking for the Mystery Cauldrons, but they are a rather nice read if you’re interested in the inner workings of a harder to grasp study,” he pointed out.

The young, redheaded Hufflepuff girl fretted she'd been late to Potions when upon her arrival she discovered the room to already be full of students milling about. She'd never been in this part of the castle before, and while the journey through the dungeons was a bit creepy, this room itself didn't seem all that bad. She eyed the various students milling about, spotting a few familiar faces in the mix, but there was no one present that she particularly felt the need to reach out to. This was her first chance to finally meet the Potions Professor, and it was best she made a good first impression, lest she miserably fail at surviving her First Year.

Ellara scanned the room with a glimmer of curiosity, her gaze flitting from the desks, to the ingredients on the shelves in the back of the room, to the three mysterious cauldrons on the left side of the classroom near the Professor's desk. There was so just so much to take in, and Ellara didn't have one clue where to start. Fortunately, inference told her enough, as she noted a small stack of parchment up next to the three cauldrons, and after watching a girl stick her hand inside of them, she figured the ultimate goal was to guess what they were. It seemedeasy enough.

Though she would never admit it to the Professor, Ellara Butler was not the most inclined to find any joy in the art of "potions." At home, she'd been a pretty atrocious cook, and when it came to the creation of magical elixirs, there was more at risk than adding a bit too much salt or butter to the cookies you haphazardly through into the oven! Still... it was better not to leap to conclusions, and since she'd made a vow to herself to take every opportunity she could possibly take, she opted to approach the three cauldrons while the Professor was busy.

Without hesitation - because if she hesitated, she worried she'd get scared and back out - she plunged her hand into the pewter cauldron, her hand grasped some form of a solid object that was a bit rough on the surface. The next cauldron revealed a light, wispy material, and as she plunged her hand into the final one, she had to pull it out with a gasp, unprepared for the cool liquid that touched her skin. In a moment of confusion, she realized with a start that her hand was still dry as she pulled it out, and then proceeded to touch the mysterious non-liquid again. She took mental note of all of her observations, racking her memory for whatever she'd read out of the textbook, and opted to ponder on the subject for a bit before turning in her answers.

Noticing that Professor Anton was now relatively available, after answering a few of the students' questions, she approached him with a polite smile on her face. "Hi, Professor. Sorry if I'm interrupting anything, but I just wanted to introduce myself as Ellara Butler. I'm really looking forward to your class right now," and how much I'll fail it, "And was wondering if you'd share advice on how to best succeed in your class."

Interactions- professor Anton

Eri was frustrated that she hadn't gotten it right and blew a peice of her hair out of her face. She did guess potion ingriedients and wel Gillyweed may be just a herbology plant, but it still probably wasn't the answer. She frowned and looked at the professor. A grimace found its way on her face for a split second before she quickly hid it. Recently she had been having nightmares and hearing loud painful noises. Sometimes loud enough to cause her to collapse in pain, but she knew it was all from her ptsd. Though she needed to ask him a question. 

"Professor, would it be better if I go to the nurse or to you for this problem of mine? You see I keep hearing a loud persistent scratching noise or a very loud ringing sound in my ears and it won't go away." She asked him hopefully he wouldn't ask why she was having these noises. But she realized how stupid it sounded so she blushed with embarrassment. "Never mind that was a stupid question. I'll just talk to the nurse when I'm finished with the cauldrons. Thank you for the hint." She dismissed herself and quickly walked away to the cauldronds and stuck her hand in each of them again. Though she knew she knew this would bug her until Shen figured out which cauldron held, so she couldn't leave yet.

Once the brunette stuck her hands in the cauldrons again she found her way to a near by desk with an alchemy book. Though she didn't fancy potions, she fancied alchemy it was very intresting to her knowledge seeking mind. Opening the big book her eyes drinking up the pages of knowledge though it was a lot to process.

 Then she closed the book after she decided she needed to figure out what was in each cauldron. That was her main goal at that moment and for now  that was all her brain could think about. So she already knew that one of them couldn't be unicorn hair. She already guessed that so now what. Could the rest be. 

The Ravenclaw girl wiped a strand of hair out of her face and closed her eyes thinking about what those three cauldrons held. For a few moments her eyes stayed close then Shen reopened them and began to ponder what potion ingriedients she knew.

{ Interacting with Kaegen, mentions Anton & other students, briefly }

Hjørdis silently questioned why she turned up today. The instant amount of regret that she felt simply grew every second she remained here. Then again, perhaps just getting a job at Hogwarts was what she actually should regret. Yet looking down at all of the students that turned up in the room, she mentally sighed. Perhaps this was exactly where she ought to be here in first place. The sheer number of children in this room that looked like they desperately needed help was ridiculous. It was a number that was growing and though she would never admit it, it was kind of worrying to see.

She matched the Ravenclaw boy's stare. He looked at her with eyes that looked tired and a little dead. They moved slowly. Her own eyes had a blank cold gaze in return. She simply looked at him, observing the boy's features and 'deathly' traits. From the first glance, it looked very much like he needed a good night's rest but there was more to do it than that.

The boy's words were strange, to say the least. He stood there, refusing to move. He did not sit down nor did he give her his arm to examine. He simply spoke, in a bizarre way. Her eyes narrowed at the boy. He claimed that a death witch came towards him. Whatever he meant was beyond her. She was not even sure if he knew what he meant at this point in time.

Did he even understand her?

Hjørdis silently listened to him as he continued to ramble on. Her eyebrow quirked slightly as she heard the area of his injury. It was near the Care of Magical Creatures stables, apparently. Griffith's stables. The boy spoke of a huge creature and another death witch that appeared there. One of them was potentially the Professor himself and another could have been one of his creatures.

The Head of Slytherin sighed softly. There were far too many people on this campus that worried her. Griffith's ability to care for said magical creatures was not one that she entirely trusted as it were and this child's words did not help the matter. However, at this point in time, she did not even know what to believe. The words that were coming out of the Ravenclaw's mouth made little sense too. She fully believed that he believed these things happened. But whether or not they were a factual account of what actually happened was a different matter entirely.

Looking over to the Potions Professor, Hjørdis was half tempted to tell him to deal with this strange child so that she could leave. She would happily relinquish the responsibility to the older man and just go back to her room, which was nice and quiet. This was his event, he could deal with these strange children. However, she changed her mind as she looked at him. He was swamped by various students. Hjørdis watched the scene for a moment. A handful of students were approaching him, asking him about healing magic.

The Slytherin almost laughed. It was rather funny how so many children flocked to see the potions master to deal with their injuries. It was as though the school did not have a capable nurse or healer around - which she knew to be untrue. The Potions Professor was now the School Nurse too, from the looks of things. Nearly all of the students in the room were in need of some sort of medication. It was bizarre. Either all of the injured and unwell students had appeared for his assistance - or Hogwarts was simply full of way too many unhealthy students. The former was rather amusing but the latter would have been quite worrying.

She had no doubt that he could easily whip up a potion for most of their ailments, if not for all of them. Hjørdis was not paying enough attention to know exactly what each suffered with. But it was still bizarre that they approached him, rather than going up to the hospital wing. Perhaps if she had managed to poison herself in the Slytherin Common Room, she would find herself staggering over to this classroom for his nursing experience as it was a lot closer than the hospital wing... However, these were not near death experiences.

Whilst she was a little amused - and worried - by the whole situation, she noticed that he did not look best pleased with it. Leaving this near death child with the forcibly appointed now school nurse seemed like a bad idea right now. She sighed softly, deciding she would deal with at least one of the children herself. The Ravenclaw looked almost dead, to be fair. The rest of the children, with their so called trauma or colds, could wait a little longer.

She still did not know his name. "What's your name, kid?" She questioned him, point blank as he clearly did not pick up on her earlier hint of 'fill in the blanks' that most people did. Hjørdis normally treated students older than they were. Even first years did not need to be treated like children. She would treat them like teenagers, at the very least and adults for the more mature and responsible ones. However, this child was different. He was quite literally a child that could not handle or look after himself. The blood soaking through his sleeve was evidence of that fact. He did nothing to stem the blood.

She watched him sit down, though she was not sure why he actually gave in. Perhaps he just got tired of standing up. She was not sure how his body was even capable of doing such a thing when his exhaustion was so clear. She was pretty convinced that he would fall over if she so much as poke his cheek lightly or a small breeze of wind hit him.

Hjørdis held out her hands, "Let me examine your arm." She repeated once more, her tone of voice slightly more forceful than it had been earlier. If he was not a child, the Slytherin would have had no problems literally grabbing his arm and threatening to tear it off him, to be quite honest. However, she curbed her desire for violence as she was dealing with students now and her job literally prevented her from doing that.

It was rather odd how life worked out. Less than a week or two ago, she was literally working in an environment that would brush any violence under the rug or shrug it off without a second glance. She had gotten so much done with the mere threat of being violent - or the actual act of it. Hjørdis still had to get used to not threatening or rushing to such a reaction. It was a challenge, to be quite fair but one that she was rather appreciative of.

She was not a violent person by nature. Her old job simply forced her to act in that way at times, even when she did not have any desire to do so. After years of behaving in such a way, a habit was formed. It sort of became a natural reaction to things but it was not one that she wanted to keep. She would not have taken her new role - which involved the supervision of young children - if she wanted to stick to that habit.

She had to swallow her pride and attempt to be a little nicer, "I'll clean up the mess and stop the bleeding... And if it still hurts, I can stop the pain." She explained, hoping that would help him understand why she was actually demanding he listened to her. It was for his own good, whether or not he chose to believe it.

He was tired, and didn’t really care. Anger faded and determination at a fairly low ebb. The boy knew, somewhere in the back of his mind that he wouldn’t be able to keep going on like this for much longer, that there was something very wrong with him. But he didn’t own up to it, not even a little. It felt like a weak feeling to him. The kind of feeling that made him feel like prey. He didn’t like feeling like pray, not at all. It was a feeling that he would do anything to avoid. In this case, all that required of him was to ignore his body’s increasingly louder calls for help. The shouts that had started out small but gradually rose to a roar. He’d want to punch something and tear it to shreds, then take a nap almost the minute after. Control had always been rather easy for the boy, but he had never before had to test it.

His mind felt dull and heavy as he sat there on the ground. He was about to pass out, but trying desperately not to, even as the blood kept dripping on the floor, starting to make a puddle that collected in a divet of the potion room’s stone floor. It took him a good few seconds to be aware of the sluggishness of his mind and get the customary boost of fear of his own helplessness while sleeping. It was enough to get him moving, enough to snap his mind out of it’s stupor long enough to comprehend what the woman was saying.

Or at least try to comprehend. She asked what his name was and gave him a name all in the same breath. So she wanted to call him kid? So why on earth would she ask him what his name was, was this a test? It must be, but he wasn’t prepared, he didn’t know what to do. This had happened all the time back in the fens, and even back then he hadn’t had a defense. They were too unpredictable, you could never tell when the next test was going to come and what the test was going to entail. The first thought that sprang into his head was that he was going to die. He was going to fail and die. The second thought was that he probably wouldn’t die, but there would be punishment, at least.

A few seconds after when she asked him what his name was, the ravenclaw’s eyes widened, the sleepy haze dissipated. His pupils flashed out towards the edges of his eyes and then receded, contenting themselves to occasional pulsations as he scooted backwards along the floor. It was going to hurt, he knew it was going to hurt. He knew that there was no point in trying to avoid what was coming and he knew that moving backwards wasn’t going to do anything but he had to do something. He couldn’t just sit there and let the pain start without even the most futile of attempts to prevent it.

When he saw the girl extending her arm, he knew what was going to happen. Twisting his body reflexively to the side, he curled up in a defensive ball with both arms locked in place over his face, clearly attempting to shield himself. He wasn’t going to be able to fight his way out, and running wasn’t an option, he was in a room underground, after all. That left the sole alternative of taking her harsh blows and hoping she didn’t have anything worse than her hand within grabbing range.

He heard her ask to examine his arm, and easily surmised what that meant. He was going to hold up his arm, she was going to grab it, twist and then snap. She was going to laugh at him, rejoice in his misery and utter ineptitude to pass even the simplest of tests. This test was literally just a trick question about his name and he had gotten it wrong, how did he expect to make it anywhere in this school? This was another test, anyway. He would fail if he disobeyed, and he would fail if he obeyed. He knew this kind of test. There was no right answer.

Besides, he had been wrong about her hitting him. She hadn’t, she had just offered another challenge he couldn’t hope to overcome. He slowly uncurled, moved his arms, sat back up and stared at her and her outstretched hand. He had been so sure she had been about to hit him. He had felt phantom pain spark across his back and cheeks, but nothing tangible had followed. What she said next sounded nice, almost. It sounded like she was just going to try and fix him, but that couldn’t be right, not after two consecutive tests he had failed.

He finally held up the arm. It was a smooth motion, it was strange, and something about it would seem off. But it was more of a feeling than something obvious. As smooth as the motion was, the arm was trembling, one of the fingers twitched slightly. If the arm was felt, it would be easy for whoever was feeling it to discern the bones that the skin seemed only thinly stretched over. It was a slender arm, thin muscles feeling like metallic cord. His fingers mirrored the arm with slim build and whitish grey skin that didn’t look at all healthy.

If the arm was approached by anything, it would jerk away sharply, before reluctantly moving back, and finally accepting whatever it was that was trying to touch him.

”kid works fine.”

His voice had gotten even quieter than it was before. It would be almost unintelligible to anyone who hadn’t been paying attention.