Closed Venomous vengeance PV Xailah, Clark, Galahad

@Finnegan Conner

It had been a rather slow day, making the night to follow just as uneventful. Which wasn't a bad thing, it was always nice to see a (mostly) empty hospital wing, but boy did it make time drag. Not that Xailah minded. She enjoyed both rapid and trickling states of intermission. Both were exciting in their own way. Savoring the silence the night brought, the young nurse intern worked quietly away at sanitizing some medical instruments. It was mostly just her there in that steeping quiet. A nurse aide was present and nearby, but those who were confined to hospital beds were either sleeping or trying to get some rest.

It was very possible both rest and sleep would become nothing more than a pipe dream for those unfortunate souls within the next few minutes.

Her ears would perk at the the sound of a dense thud; the swing of the infirmary doors, that moved with a notable weight; and, a sluggish shuffle of footfalls to follow. A curious side-eye was shot to the aide, brows crimping lightly. So much for a quiet night. Xailah was on her feet in an instant, setting her cleaning materials aside. "I can take care of this one," she nodded to the supervising nurse, before dipping around the corner out of sight.

She would be slightly stunned at what she would find- mostly because she had expected something large, by the way the doors had been thrown open; it had sounded like someone hit them with a bludger. Instead of something big, the sight of a scrawny younger student would greet her.

By the way the boy half-curled upon himself at the foot of a nearby bed, she immediately thought she was dealing with another case of a child who had eaten something unsavory- considering she only saw his back, from where she stood. The younger members of the student body seemed to have a nasty habit of picking up lordknewwhat off the ground and popping it into their mouths like they were free hors d'oeuvres. If she had a galleon for every time she had to treat some kid, who had eaten the funny ooze found on the dungeon walls on an alleged "dare" (some, unfortunately, just enjoyed the sensation of what was probably some kind of mutated mold, apparently), she would have well over twenty galleons.

That was enough galleons to buy a whole round of drinks at the Three Broomsticks. It was outright ridiculous.

Xailah maintained the expectation of "dare gone wrong" until she saw the lad slump against the bedframe, in an expression she could only describe as defeat. Maybe not a stomachache then. Usually those patients looked more desperate and distressed. She'd watch the boy for a beat before approaching him, making note of his lethargic behavior.

The young man was approached soundlessly and without audible urgency; Xailah would make a point to regard him as if he were a scared baby animal rather than an anguished student. Eventually, a voice would call out to him; a calm one. "Hallo. I am a nurse intern." Now that she was close enough to better observe him, it was blatantly obvious this boy was suffering from an ailment that did not frequent the hospital wing.

"May I help you?" The fellow would feel a hand land on his shoulder; a gentle touch, almost barely there. Another hand (gloved, he would notice, if he tried to touch it) would find his elbow, and try to bring him to his feet. Despite the way it came across, Xailah wasn't asking for permission. The boy was going to be treated regardless of his reply. She had found that it was sometimes best to let patients think they had a say in the matter. Coaxing an animal was a much simpler task than fighting one was.

Her gaze would hone in on the mark his arm sustained: two small puncture wounds, the tender skin around both was visibly swollen and riddled with discoloration. Curiously, her head tilted to one side, unsure what to make of the brands. They looked like some kind of bite if she knew any better. "Do you think you can tell me what happened? It looks like you got into quite a nasty scuffle."

F I N N E G A Nx⳧xC O N N O R

☙ Venomous Vengeance, 15th of September 2023 ❧

He blinked, his eyes unfocused and distant as he stared blankly at the nurse intern standing before him, her soft voice barely registered in his foggy brain. He shook his head weakly, struggling to focus on what she was saying. "What?" he croaked, his voice rough and scratchy.

His gaze flickered towards the nurse intern’s gloved hand resting gently on his shoulder, and then to the other hand gripping his elbow. Like a puppet on strings his limbs mindlessly followed her motion upward, swaying dangerously on his legs the moment he stood upright. The floor tilted underfoot like the deck of a ship at high sea, rising on foamy crests, then falling sharply. Bile rose to his throat and he swallowed hard to keep it all down.

"Snake," he rasped, his tongue thick and heavy like cotton in his mouth. "I got bit by a-" his face contorted into a pained grimace while his good hand searched and found a bit of the girl's robe to hang on to, "a snake." His face had gone deathly pale, his breathing shallow and ragged while he leaned heavily against the nurse. "I can't-"

There were many things he couldn't; couldn't focus, couldn't stand straight, couldn't stop his heart from racing, couldn't make the right words come out of his mouth. By some miracle he had teeter-tottered up against the edge of the nearest bed and, as if on auto-pilot, sat down on it. Through his bleary vision he made out a slender, pale form adorned by golden, feline eyes and long, dark tresses of hair. If only she'd been a little more translucent, she could've passed for a ghost, he thought. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind he thought he had seen her before, but no name or place jumped to mind. At present, he wanted nothing more than to merge with the floor or the bed, then at least he'd feel a bit more solid. "I fought," he managed to croak out on an airy, wheezing exhale. "Clark."

Stamina 10 ✶ Evasion 10 ✶ Strength 2 ✶ Wisdom 3 ✶ Arcane Power 5 ✶ Accuracy 10

Continued from here.

Clark had a surge of temper in his violate blood and he felt like he needed to absolutely destroy anyone in his way, even if said 'anyone' was people that he had pummeled before. He creeped out of the classroom in where he was previously. He had sent a boy to the hospital and this boy would die. No one lives to tell the tale of Clark starting the actions he is accused of.

The part goblin drew his left hand from the pocket(s) in his shorts. The left hand rested on the stone wall as he walked down the corridors and allowed scraping noise to be heard while his hand dragged on the wall.

His gloomy face rested, anger struck him. And at last, he made it to the hospital wing. Unlike what he were previously doing in the corridors, he stopped alltogether to end the noise and only creeped forward some. He was now hiding besides another bed in an attempt to avoid capture.

But what could he do to truly mark and signify that Clark was dominant and to ensure that Finnegan would shut the hell up and never speak of what horrendous crimes Clark had done.

And he heard his name. Faint and weak as the sound was, his name was said. This was beginning to truly piss the goblin off. He racked his brain trying to figure out what the hell he could do to silence the boy. And a smile snuck across his face. There was a girl next to him. "Petrificus Totalus." He whispered, a look of grimace plastered across his cruel face. The spell was aimed towards the girl. Perhaps Clark would finally shut him up. He would end Finnegan's reign if his name were ever uttered again.

Stamina: 7 | Evasion: 10 | Strength: 0 | Wisdom: 7 | Arcane Power: 6 | Accuracy: 8
@Finnegan Conner @Xailah Alptraum

Rolls

Reducio

Spell: Full Body Bind Curse (WDC: 14)
Target: Xailah
Clark Wis: 7 | Acc: 8
Xai Eva: 17

Wisdom (Clark Wis v WDC)
1d20: 11+7 = 18 (Success)

Accuracy (Clark)
1d20: 4+8 = 12

Evasion (Xailah)
1d20: 16+17 = 33 (Dodged)

Clark failed to hit Xailah.

@Finnegan Conner and @Clark Baird

Such a pitiful little thing, was all she could think, as the young man groped madly at her robe sleeve. Xailah permitted the cub to hook his little talons onto the slick fabric for security, as she brought him to his feet. Her concern, however, was fleeting in the face of revelation. Confusion struck her, followed by contemplation. Had she heard that right- "A snake?" She repeated (more to herself, than the boy) with muted disbelief. A snake bite would explain the swelling and pinholes... the presence of which, provided implication that the snake had also been venomous. But how had the boy come by a venomous snake in Scotland? They weren't exactly slithering all over the place- even in Hogwarts, where deadly critters casually ran amuck.

There were massive pieces missing from this puzzle. The boy seemed to be making an effort to share them, but he kept falling short- his words too broken- his breaths too spread out. The longer he struggled to jam a coherent sentence together, the more drained he looked. Explanations could wait. This boy needed medical attention immediately. Xailah would try to guide him to the bed he had sought earlier for support. As she aided in escorting him, she couldn't help but notice how he remained locked onto her sleeve. The fellow was strong. "You have-" she shifted at the sudden pull of his weight, quickly changing her footing to accommodate for it, "-quite the grip." She strained, pressing her outer thigh against the nearby bedframe to stabilize herself and the boy. "Careful, careful," she muttered softly.

Her hold on him was tight, but not ungentle- though she did keep him at a good arm's length in case his stomach decided to evacuate its contents. Although the cub possessed a telltale nauseous sway, he managed to keep the contents of his supper down. Much to everyone's relief. No one wanted to deal with ejecta, on top of treating a snake bite. Like the world's heaviest feather, he fell to the plush white mattress awaiting him. Xailah bent to his height, wiggling her sleeve out from between his fingers. Clearing her throat, she'd try to raise her voice loud enough for the cub to better hear her without disturbing the other Hospital Wing occupants. "I will be honest with you, you are a very unusual patient in here. We don't get snake bite cases." The lioness admitted.

Little mind was paid to the door. Xailah took note of it opening, but barely spared a glance over her shoulder to see the squat silhouette standing in its frame. "I will be with you in a moment." She assured the visitor, her attention immediately shifting back to the main issue at hand.

Her mistake would be failing to acknowledge the guest fully.

"I'll go get you something for the pain, you just sit tight. Can you do that for me?" Ever diligent, Xailah sought to right whatever horrible wrong had been done to this poor boy. While she had never dealt with a bite from a venomous snake before, she was keen to find resolve. She began to stand, rising from the bent position she had assumed to appear marginally less threatening than usual. She'd pause, however, when the snake bite patient muttered a name: Clark.

"Octavius's boy?" That was the only Clark she knew of with a lengthy track record for being a miscreant among many other horrid things. To say he circulated rumors, was an understatement; he fueled the blooming cesspool of gossip as if it was his birthright to do so. The metamorph shook her head, her brows pulling themselves tight. She'd have to ask further when the injured boy was no longer in a venom-addled state. "Lay down and try to relax, the worst has passed. We'll have you fixed up in two shakes of a mooncalf's tail." Those were some famous last words.

Xailah instantly froze as a beam of light flew past her and ricocheted into a table supporting a few glass beakers. The glass tools wobbled but remained relatively unharmed. Drawing to her full height and turning to the source of the attack, she met the perpetrator head-on; a knifelike shine assailing her gold hues. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust on the short figure crouched, like a little hobgoblin, in the shadow of a neighboring bed; but once she saw him, she had a hunch of who it was (because who else would have been conveniently seeking the hospital wing at this hour?). "Mr. Baird, I presume?" The Gryffindor asked, a dangerous reptilian purr finding its way into her throat. "What a coincidence, we were just talking about you."

The boy's spell had been off. Not off enough to hide who his initial target had been, though. His spell so obviously had Xailah's name on it, and the reason? She did not know, or care to know, at that moment in time. Instead of reprimanding the badger, she'd challenge him directly. "Would you like to try that again?" She invited, her arms spread out at her sides in an otherwise unsuspecting gesture. "If you are going to make an attempt on my wellbeing, at least do yourself a favor and make the hit." Really, she sounded more disappointed than upset, at that.

She would have left things there, but it didn't take a genius to figure out Clark most likely came to the infirmary to finish what he had started. As an intern, Xailah was obligated to keep the patients safe as well as she knew how. If the injured boy's strained, patchwork words and Clark's brash display revealed anything, it was that the latter was a threat. And unfortunately for him, the intern he had so expertly singled out knew a thing or two about dealing with threats.

She was quick to the draw, and even faster to the trigger; her hand found her wand in an instant. The second she felt the sliver of chestnut in palm; an incantation formed on the tip of her tongue. "Pullus!" She commanded, an obedient light launching itself from the tip of the conduit. Spiraling through the air, her spell would strike true and collide with Clark's small body- Clark's small, feathery body. The success of the incantation was revealed through a downpour of feathers: where the Baird boy once stood, now clucked a chicken. Xailah's lips pulled back into a cattish grin, pleased with her handiwork. "Mr. Baird, I'm afraid you have just cooked your goose," she hummed, looking down at the little mass of feathers, "or should I say, chicken."

Reducio

Spell: Human to Chicken- Pullus (WDC 16).
Target: Clark.
Xailah Wis: 16 | Acc: 16
Clark Eva: 10

Wisdom (Xailah Wis v WDC)
1d20: 18+16 = 34 (Success)

Accuracy (Xailah)
1d20: 19+16 = 35

Evasion (Clark)
1d20: 13+10 = 23 (Failed)

Clark has doodled his last doo.

F I N N E G A Nx⳧xC O N N O R

☙ Venomous Vengeance, 15th of September 2023 ❧

Mouth dry, tongue thick like cotton, veins pulsing, a suffocating noose tightening around his throat... He staggered forward, clutched at her arm, found the bed, gasped for air. His lips moved, but whatever he tried to say was swallowed up by whimpers. She said something back, he could see her mouth moving, but the soft words spoken were like a raindrops in a downpour: inseparable and indistinct.

Now it was just her face and the ceiling. Her pale face, the white ceiling, her moving face, the unmoving stone overhead. More honeyed words in a language he failed to grasp, more cooing and pushing him around. He ground his teeth and blinked at her through bleary eyes, unable to formulate a cohesive thought. There was just his arm and the stake being driven through it every passing second.

There was another voice then, distant but all too familiar. Clark had stalked after him like a starved predator and there was no escape, nothing he could do to defend himself. A bang and a flash sounded, then glass breaking. He curled up instinctively, terrified and frozen in place like cornered prey. Another spell would come, another flash of light that would hit its mark and put an end to his misery.

Instead there was just a voice, the nurse's voice, drifting carefree through the air like she was on an afternoon stroll. Burning eyes, previously forced shut, snapped back open. He peered anxiously past the barrier of his swollen, discolored arm and the bed linen hastily thrown aside and found a small, blurry outline standing near the doors, wand in hand. Blinding light made him squint and grit his teeth, but when the light subsided, the figure of Clark had disappeared.

Even in a far less addled state, his mind would have struggled to make sense of what he saw. Feathers sat where skin had been and that angry, menacing little face was now replaced by a beak and two very wide, very surprised looking eyes. Finnegan regarded the transfiguration in stunned silence while biting poison pumped through his veins. Wincing, he buried his face in the soft pillow and bit down hard on the inside of his cheeks. He prayed the nurse hadn't forgotten about him, that she wouldn't waste another second chasing the clucking chicken out of the hospital wing. Hurry up! He thought incessantly, please just hurry up...

OOC note:

Reducio

Apologies for the short and passive post. There just isn't anything Finn could realistically do in this scenario except watch!

Stamina 10 ✶ Evasion 10 ✶ Strength 2 ✶ Wisdom 3 ✶ Arcane Power 5 ✶ Accuracy 10

Continued from here.