Cleaning is for the Birds
Information
This takes place in the Ravenclaw Common Room, however due to lack of visual access for the users involved I am making this thread take place out here and will move the thread into the common room upon completion.
This is detention for the Library Incident that resulted in the rescue and clean-up of the area by House Ravenclaw. As such, Headmaster Lear has determined that a fitting punishment for the students involved in this incident would be to act in service to House Ravenclaw by cleaning up their common room, their bathroom and their dorms.
As such, this thread is closed to non-Ravenclaws with the exception of those that are in detention. Can Ravenclaw students enter this thread? Yes. I will also be providing a few NPC Ravenclaw students for the sake of heckling.
The detention expectation is normally three posts and 1000 words, but I am a sadist and expect more out of you so I am expecting a minimum total of 3000 words and 3 posts. You can post longer, I am certain you will. You will also be expected to complete cleaning the following areas: the boys bathroom, the girls bathroom, the boy's dorm, the girl's dorm and the common room. This detention will be non-moderated, I will simply give you the tools needed to complete the task IC and OC. If you damage more than you fix you will need to repair your damages before this detention ends.
The Ravenclaw door is locked, you cannot leave until this task is completed. When you are done, the door will unlock and you are free to go.
Setting
The west tower of the Scottish tower was a bit cooler than the rest of Hogwarts. The wind howled as it rushed past the outer walls, letting out this high pitched cry. The sounds of the wind sounded like wails, but for the students of House Ravenclaw this was nothing more than white noise. The coo of roosting birds and the creak of the stairs. Large, full length windows lined a portion of the stair that looked out over the grounds. The lake, the Forbidden Forest, the Quidditch pitch and the Herbology gardens. No other house in the school has such stunning views. The students would not have the opportunity to enjoy the vista before them, these students were not here to enjoy the scenery, they were here to make amends for what they had done almost 2 months earlier.
2 months ago an altercation between a group of students result in the destruction of the library as well as the injury of a handful of students. The library was closed for almost 2 weeks as the books were repaired and the bookshelves were placed upright once more. The use of reparo recovered most of the books that were taped together as a temporary measure. House Ravenclaw was instrumental in the library's recovery, this was their opportunity to compensate Ravenclaw for their generosity.
Solomon would lead the way, up the twisting stair. The entrance to the common room is located on the west side of Hogwarts at the top of a spiral staircase. The large, heavy, wooden, painted door without a doorknob or keyhole, but a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle would block their path. Like the other houses, there was a means of ingress. In order to enter the room, a person must answer a riddle asked by the eagle knocker; if they answer incorrectly, they must wait for someone else who gets it right.
So the knocker would ask a riddle.
The answer was "water" Solomon announced. The door has used that one before. The door would open inward revealing the Ravenclaw common area inside. The Ravenclaw common room is one of the airiest rooms at Hogwarts. It is a wide, circular room with arched windows hung with blue and bronze silks and a midnight blue carpet covered in stars, which is reflected onto the domed ceiling. The room is furnished with tables, chairs, and bookcases; and by the door leading up to the dormitories stands a tall statue of Rowena Ravenclaw made of white marble.
[url=blob:https://imgur.com/d75a60c4-9e17-44f4-9ff8-c658b925f4bc]Layout of the Ravenclaw Tower [/url]
Ravenclaw Common Room
It was very much unlike their common area, certainly a place of learning.
The students, they were burdened by the weight of the cleaning supplies they were provided. Rags, spray bottles of cleaner, buckets and gloves. Their greatest asset on this day would be their elbow grease. They would have been told to arrive in common clothes of their choice, they were spending their Saturday cleaning. If they chose to wear their wizard robes or school uniform that would be on them.
Their instructions would be clear: clean the common room -- the book shelves, the candelabra, the sitting area, the floors, everything in the common room needed to be scrubbed, fluffed and organized clean the dorms -- launder the bedding, clean the refuse, flip the mattresses, scrub the floor boards and dust every fixture; the bathrooms -- scrub the toilets, the tubs, the sinks, the floors. All of the windows needed to be wiped down. Every bit of dust, every errantly placed book needed to be put away.
The door would also have clear instructions: do not let these students out until the task is accomplished but allow the Ravenclaws entry as needed.
Yes, this was also an exercise in shaming the youths.
Solomon would leave the party, they would either work but their issues and complete this task or they would spend an egregious amount of time trapped in the Ravenclaw common room.
This takes place in the Ravenclaw Common Room, however due to lack of visual access for the users involved I am making this thread take place out here and will move the thread into the common room upon completion.
This is detention for the Library Incident that resulted in the rescue and clean-up of the area by House Ravenclaw. As such, Headmaster Lear has determined that a fitting punishment for the students involved in this incident would be to act in service to House Ravenclaw by cleaning up their common room, their bathroom and their dorms.
As such, this thread is closed to non-Ravenclaws with the exception of those that are in detention. Can Ravenclaw students enter this thread? Yes. I will also be providing a few NPC Ravenclaw students for the sake of heckling.
The detention expectation is normally three posts and 1000 words, but I am a sadist and expect more out of you so I am expecting a minimum total of 3000 words and 3 posts. You can post longer, I am certain you will. You will also be expected to complete cleaning the following areas: the boys bathroom, the girls bathroom, the boy's dorm, the girl's dorm and the common room. This detention will be non-moderated, I will simply give you the tools needed to complete the task IC and OC. If you damage more than you fix you will need to repair your damages before this detention ends.
The Ravenclaw door is locked, you cannot leave until this task is completed. When you are done, the door will unlock and you are free to go.
Setting
The west tower of the Scottish tower was a bit cooler than the rest of Hogwarts. The wind howled as it rushed past the outer walls, letting out this high pitched cry. The sounds of the wind sounded like wails, but for the students of House Ravenclaw this was nothing more than white noise. The coo of roosting birds and the creak of the stairs. Large, full length windows lined a portion of the stair that looked out over the grounds. The lake, the Forbidden Forest, the Quidditch pitch and the Herbology gardens. No other house in the school has such stunning views. The students would not have the opportunity to enjoy the vista before them, these students were not here to enjoy the scenery, they were here to make amends for what they had done almost 2 months earlier.
2 months ago an altercation between a group of students result in the destruction of the library as well as the injury of a handful of students. The library was closed for almost 2 weeks as the books were repaired and the bookshelves were placed upright once more. The use of reparo recovered most of the books that were taped together as a temporary measure. House Ravenclaw was instrumental in the library's recovery, this was their opportunity to compensate Ravenclaw for their generosity.
Solomon would lead the way, up the twisting stair. The entrance to the common room is located on the west side of Hogwarts at the top of a spiral staircase. The large, heavy, wooden, painted door without a doorknob or keyhole, but a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle would block their path. Like the other houses, there was a means of ingress. In order to enter the room, a person must answer a riddle asked by the eagle knocker; if they answer incorrectly, they must wait for someone else who gets it right.
So the knocker would ask a riddle.
I run without feet.
I fall without getting hurt.
Strong enough to wear stone.
Gentle enough to cleanse your flesh.
Sometimes hard, sometimes wet.
I can be rough and hot and icy cold.
What am I?
The answer was "water" Solomon announced. The door has used that one before. The door would open inward revealing the Ravenclaw common area inside. The Ravenclaw common room is one of the airiest rooms at Hogwarts. It is a wide, circular room with arched windows hung with blue and bronze silks and a midnight blue carpet covered in stars, which is reflected onto the domed ceiling. The room is furnished with tables, chairs, and bookcases; and by the door leading up to the dormitories stands a tall statue of Rowena Ravenclaw made of white marble.
[url=blob:https://imgur.com/d75a60c4-9e17-44f4-9ff8-c658b925f4bc]Layout of the Ravenclaw Tower [/url]
Ravenclaw Common Room
It was very much unlike their common area, certainly a place of learning.
The students, they were burdened by the weight of the cleaning supplies they were provided. Rags, spray bottles of cleaner, buckets and gloves. Their greatest asset on this day would be their elbow grease. They would have been told to arrive in common clothes of their choice, they were spending their Saturday cleaning. If they chose to wear their wizard robes or school uniform that would be on them.
Their instructions would be clear: clean the common room -- the book shelves, the candelabra, the sitting area, the floors, everything in the common room needed to be scrubbed, fluffed and organized clean the dorms -- launder the bedding, clean the refuse, flip the mattresses, scrub the floor boards and dust every fixture; the bathrooms -- scrub the toilets, the tubs, the sinks, the floors. All of the windows needed to be wiped down. Every bit of dust, every errantly placed book needed to be put away.
The door would also have clear instructions: do not let these students out until the task is accomplished but allow the Ravenclaws entry as needed.
Yes, this was also an exercise in shaming the youths.
Solomon would leave the party, they would either work but their issues and complete this task or they would spend an egregious amount of time trapped in the Ravenclaw common room.
There is something about ambition, how it not only propels you but also defines you.
Cleaning is for the Birds
Erin strode behind the headmaster, her back to the trio . It was not that she trusted them that she exposed her back, but rather to taunt them. Seeing the trepidation in an adversary is often the divine life force of one's wrath and the driving force behind one's hunt. Her back signified a lack of fear or concern. It almost begged for them to try something a few feet away from the Headmaster.
In her right hand she was holding a yellow bucket filled with rags, bottles of an all-purpose cleaning spray that smelled like the chemical manifestation of roses. She picked the strongest scented one she could find, it also tended to be the most irritating in her experience. This was not her first detention but she knew the drill, make sure that you look sad. Spray a lot of stuff and make the room smell. Pick the most noticeable things to clean up and then find a corner to chillax while the other detention-goers get the bulk of the work done. She knew the routine, put on a good show, look sad and sorry.
She would look back at, well the others and give them a smirk. Yes, she was egging them on half-hopeful that they would try something so that she could play the victim role in front of the Headmaster. It was of course unlikely that they took the bait, if they had of course there would be tears and some emotional charade. She had seen enough emotional moments between tweens to give it a go and make it look reasonably close to what they displayed.
The Headmaster would answer the riddle, Erin would remember the answer thinking it the passcode. She could just leave these dorks behind and come back at the end of the day and take her portion of the credit she reasoned. Just brilliant.
The Headmaster would prattle on about what he expected of them. Spotless. Clean all the places. He would be back later. Yeah- yeah-. He was not going to spend a perfectly good Saturday watching them clean up after a bunch of nerds. What was the worst this place would have? A few books not in alphabetical order... Some dust in the back of a bookshelf. Whatever, she would polish a few windows in plain sight of the Headmaster before he left and then she would vamoose and return in several hours spraying her bottle of cleaner about before she left and as she returned.
Well, even the most brilliant of plans fail. The Headmaster instructed the knocker to keep them inside for the duration of the day. Erin frowned and looked away from the Headmaster, she did not want anyone to notice her disappointment but if someone glanced in her direction they would see the change in her expression as if she was saying well crap.
She would spritz her rag several times with the obnoxious cleaning solution. It was mostly water, vinegar and essence of rose oil. The scent was strong, not particularly pleasant, more like a poor attempt to make a salad smell like perfume and failing to do so.
Squirt… Squirt... Squirt...
The stench filled the air, yes that was her smell. In a falsely cheerful voice she would chime, "no worries Professor... we will get this place right as rain." Merlin, how dorky did that sound? Whatever as long as he leaves. She started wiping down one of the large, full length windows in the common room in full view of the Headmaster, bucket at her side. She would continue until she saw him leave out of the corner of her eye. Once she was done, mid pane even, she would drop her rag into her bucket.
She looked around, how many Ravenclaws were there here? A couple of them it would seem, a few gawkers mostly pretending to be reading books. She was able to identify this fact because one was holding their book upside down. No, they were waiting for the Headmaster to leave. She wondered if the Headmaster knew, actually of course he did, that was part of this exercise wasn't it? Letting them suffer the consequences of their ill-considered altercation in the library.
Erin would point towards Howard once the door that the Headmaster left through closed. "He was the one that cast the spell that caused those bookshelves to get knocked over." A bit of social 'justice' perhaps.
There was about three of them, they appeared to be third or even fourth years. Not necessarily bigger, but in the wizarding world unlike most other parts of the world size does not really matter. And well, if it does, that is what the engorgo charm is for. [Just tossing in a few NPCs if you wanted to RP something out dealing with them. If so, feel free to control them yourself.]
"Pffft, too much nerd in here," Erin muttered pulling a thread of threat off of Howard potentially. "I am going to clean up the bathrooms," she announced with a dismissive wave of her hand as she lifted the bucket from the floor. With a scoff she would conclude with, "later Ravencunts."
Would Erin be followed by one of the third years, of course she would be. That was the intention. She figured the others would have their hands full contending with the disgruntled Ravenclaws in the common area to follow. Besides, even if they got out of getting their asses handed to them it was not as if they wanted to spend any more quality time with Erin than they had to and at the moment the sentiment went both ways. Erin would enter the boys bath, it was the nearest of the two bathrooms and also likely the filthiest. She would wait on the other side of the door, as the door opened inward she would be hidden by the piece wood. This is where the predator becomes the prey.
Someone would enter the bath, perhaps it was Howard or Thomas, perhaps it was one of the Ravenclaws. They would check the stalls, it was the most logical place to hide. She would stalk them from behind. They would likely be taller than her, she would have to jump as she reached up and attempted to place her forearm like a bar across their neck. It was her right arm, her left arm would come from the side, starting at her wrist and then moving inward towards her elbow in an attempt to not only maintain her grip and her hold but to also force their neck towards the crook of her arm, to compress that rightmost artery. From the left, her other forearm as her hand gripped her right forearm and attempted to slide inward. Tighter.
She had seen it before but she had never choked someone out. It was likely harder than it looked in those pictures. Muggles always did everything the hard way it would seem.
In her right hand she was holding a yellow bucket filled with rags, bottles of an all-purpose cleaning spray that smelled like the chemical manifestation of roses. She picked the strongest scented one she could find, it also tended to be the most irritating in her experience. This was not her first detention but she knew the drill, make sure that you look sad. Spray a lot of stuff and make the room smell. Pick the most noticeable things to clean up and then find a corner to chillax while the other detention-goers get the bulk of the work done. She knew the routine, put on a good show, look sad and sorry.
She would look back at, well the others and give them a smirk. Yes, she was egging them on half-hopeful that they would try something so that she could play the victim role in front of the Headmaster. It was of course unlikely that they took the bait, if they had of course there would be tears and some emotional charade. She had seen enough emotional moments between tweens to give it a go and make it look reasonably close to what they displayed.
The Headmaster would answer the riddle, Erin would remember the answer thinking it the passcode. She could just leave these dorks behind and come back at the end of the day and take her portion of the credit she reasoned. Just brilliant.
The Headmaster would prattle on about what he expected of them. Spotless. Clean all the places. He would be back later. Yeah- yeah-. He was not going to spend a perfectly good Saturday watching them clean up after a bunch of nerds. What was the worst this place would have? A few books not in alphabetical order... Some dust in the back of a bookshelf. Whatever, she would polish a few windows in plain sight of the Headmaster before he left and then she would vamoose and return in several hours spraying her bottle of cleaner about before she left and as she returned.
Well, even the most brilliant of plans fail. The Headmaster instructed the knocker to keep them inside for the duration of the day. Erin frowned and looked away from the Headmaster, she did not want anyone to notice her disappointment but if someone glanced in her direction they would see the change in her expression as if she was saying well crap.
She would spritz her rag several times with the obnoxious cleaning solution. It was mostly water, vinegar and essence of rose oil. The scent was strong, not particularly pleasant, more like a poor attempt to make a salad smell like perfume and failing to do so.
Squirt… Squirt... Squirt...
The stench filled the air, yes that was her smell. In a falsely cheerful voice she would chime, "no worries Professor... we will get this place right as rain." Merlin, how dorky did that sound? Whatever as long as he leaves. She started wiping down one of the large, full length windows in the common room in full view of the Headmaster, bucket at her side. She would continue until she saw him leave out of the corner of her eye. Once she was done, mid pane even, she would drop her rag into her bucket.
She looked around, how many Ravenclaws were there here? A couple of them it would seem, a few gawkers mostly pretending to be reading books. She was able to identify this fact because one was holding their book upside down. No, they were waiting for the Headmaster to leave. She wondered if the Headmaster knew, actually of course he did, that was part of this exercise wasn't it? Letting them suffer the consequences of their ill-considered altercation in the library.
Erin would point towards Howard once the door that the Headmaster left through closed. "He was the one that cast the spell that caused those bookshelves to get knocked over." A bit of social 'justice' perhaps.
There was about three of them, they appeared to be third or even fourth years. Not necessarily bigger, but in the wizarding world unlike most other parts of the world size does not really matter. And well, if it does, that is what the engorgo charm is for. [Just tossing in a few NPCs if you wanted to RP something out dealing with them. If so, feel free to control them yourself.]
"Pffft, too much nerd in here," Erin muttered pulling a thread of threat off of Howard potentially. "I am going to clean up the bathrooms," she announced with a dismissive wave of her hand as she lifted the bucket from the floor. With a scoff she would conclude with, "later Ravencunts."
Would Erin be followed by one of the third years, of course she would be. That was the intention. She figured the others would have their hands full contending with the disgruntled Ravenclaws in the common area to follow. Besides, even if they got out of getting their asses handed to them it was not as if they wanted to spend any more quality time with Erin than they had to and at the moment the sentiment went both ways. Erin would enter the boys bath, it was the nearest of the two bathrooms and also likely the filthiest. She would wait on the other side of the door, as the door opened inward she would be hidden by the piece wood. This is where the predator becomes the prey.
Someone would enter the bath, perhaps it was Howard or Thomas, perhaps it was one of the Ravenclaws. They would check the stalls, it was the most logical place to hide. She would stalk them from behind. They would likely be taller than her, she would have to jump as she reached up and attempted to place her forearm like a bar across their neck. It was her right arm, her left arm would come from the side, starting at her wrist and then moving inward towards her elbow in an attempt to not only maintain her grip and her hold but to also force their neck towards the crook of her arm, to compress that rightmost artery. From the left, her other forearm as her hand gripped her right forearm and attempted to slide inward. Tighter.
She had seen it before but she had never choked someone out. It was likely harder than it looked in those pictures. Muggles always did everything the hard way it would seem.
Just a trick of the lighting they said...
Cleaning is for the Birds
Howard walked behind Erin and the Headmaster, a mop slung over his shoulder as he made his way to pay for his transgressions. He had not seen much of the Slytherin in the two months that had passed, and now the idea of spending the day in detention with her left him particularly irritable. His eyes were locked on Solomon’s armor, watching it shift with his movement as they entered a part of the castle he had never been before. They boy had once found it quite ridiculous, often poking fun at it with his fellow students, but he knew better now. Magic was dangerous and powerful, a fact that had lead them to the Ravenclaw tower today. A simple swish of the wand, a word of two spoken and a library laid in shambles. Most would call Headmaster Lear paranoid...Howard would call him prepared. He daydreamed briefly about an armor set of his own, most likely in black.
They began to climb the stairs as Howard’s reverie was broken. Erin’s eyes caught his own, looking back at him with a stupid looking smirk on her face. The familiar flash of heat would spring up from his belly, the tingle of power sending goosebumps down his arm. A sharp intake of breath through the nose would keep the beast at bay. He knew her games, and would not fall prey, not yet anyways and certainly not in front of the Headmaster. No, Howard would bide his time, they had the whole day after all. His free hand would raise in a fist, a certain finger extended upwards as he mouthed the words to match the gesture.
They all came to a stop in front of solid wood door, an Eagle shaped knocker the only adornment in sight. It called out to them, speaking in riddles. The Headmaster would quickly answer, the door swinging open to allow them entry. Shit, have to answer a damn riddle everytime they want to go inside? Leave it to witches and wizards to fuck up something as simple as a door! Howard silently thanked the gods that the Sorting Hat didn’t put him here as they made their way into the common room. He would cast his eyes to the ground as Lear gave them their directions. It was not out of shame or fear, but to hide the anger within them. Howard did not like being scolded and talked to like some little child, he was thirteen now damnit! Clean everything in sight, got it.
“No worries Professor...we will get this place right as rain.”
Howard gritted his teeth as his fists turned to balls at his side. He hated when Erin was manipulative. The boy knew who and what she really was, and if he was going to be stuck with her, he preferred her in her natural form. Shaking the thought from his mind, Howard grabbed the cleaning supplies and got to work, it would not take long before the Headmaster left them to their duties.
They were not left alone however. Looking around he spotted a few Ravenclaws here and there, bunching up to whisper and point at them while they cleaned. Some clearly expressed their disdain as they shot Howard nasty looks. Yes, the Ravenclaws and their precious library. Didn’t they know there was more to life than books and studies. Actions are what matter most. It’s what you do that makes a difference. He returned their look with one of his own.
“He was the one that cast the spell that caused those bookshelves to get knocked over.”
Howard turned on the spot, glaring at Erin as she started her game. Just as he was about to shout some very nasty things at her a flash of blue caught his eye. Two of the Ravenclaw boys were walking in his direction. His hand slid into his pocket, the handle to his wand lay just at his fingertips. As much trouble as he was already in, he didn’t care, Howard would defend himself. A hint of a smile would cross his face as he reveled in the chance to use his power again. He eyed them as they passed, walking to join another.
“Yeah, it was me. What of it?” Howard called out to them, arms raised outwards in the typical ‘come at me bro’ fashion. Just then, Erin called out as well, insulting them before entering the bathroom. She would not escape this situation so easily. There would be a price to pay for her slight against him. Gone were the days where he would tolerate such things. Casting another intimidating glance at the Ravenclaws, he entered the bathroom after her.
Howard shoved the door open, expecting to see Erin, however he was met with nothing but sinks and tiled floors. As he took a step forward a force hit him from behind. Perhaps a pair of legs would swing around his waist as arms pressed against his throat, like an attacking spider monkey. Or maybe those arms would pull his head backwards, causing his back to bend. Either way those arms would squeeze tight, cutting off the blood flow to his brain. Howard would struggle. He was not the strongest of boys, but his height may give him advantage. Stars began to pop in his vision as a feeling of light headedness over took him. In a last ditch effort he would push backwards with all of his strength, hopefully driving his attacker into a wall.
They began to climb the stairs as Howard’s reverie was broken. Erin’s eyes caught his own, looking back at him with a stupid looking smirk on her face. The familiar flash of heat would spring up from his belly, the tingle of power sending goosebumps down his arm. A sharp intake of breath through the nose would keep the beast at bay. He knew her games, and would not fall prey, not yet anyways and certainly not in front of the Headmaster. No, Howard would bide his time, they had the whole day after all. His free hand would raise in a fist, a certain finger extended upwards as he mouthed the words to match the gesture.
They all came to a stop in front of solid wood door, an Eagle shaped knocker the only adornment in sight. It called out to them, speaking in riddles. The Headmaster would quickly answer, the door swinging open to allow them entry. Shit, have to answer a damn riddle everytime they want to go inside? Leave it to witches and wizards to fuck up something as simple as a door! Howard silently thanked the gods that the Sorting Hat didn’t put him here as they made their way into the common room. He would cast his eyes to the ground as Lear gave them their directions. It was not out of shame or fear, but to hide the anger within them. Howard did not like being scolded and talked to like some little child, he was thirteen now damnit! Clean everything in sight, got it.
“No worries Professor...we will get this place right as rain.”
Howard gritted his teeth as his fists turned to balls at his side. He hated when Erin was manipulative. The boy knew who and what she really was, and if he was going to be stuck with her, he preferred her in her natural form. Shaking the thought from his mind, Howard grabbed the cleaning supplies and got to work, it would not take long before the Headmaster left them to their duties.
They were not left alone however. Looking around he spotted a few Ravenclaws here and there, bunching up to whisper and point at them while they cleaned. Some clearly expressed their disdain as they shot Howard nasty looks. Yes, the Ravenclaws and their precious library. Didn’t they know there was more to life than books and studies. Actions are what matter most. It’s what you do that makes a difference. He returned their look with one of his own.
“He was the one that cast the spell that caused those bookshelves to get knocked over.”
Howard turned on the spot, glaring at Erin as she started her game. Just as he was about to shout some very nasty things at her a flash of blue caught his eye. Two of the Ravenclaw boys were walking in his direction. His hand slid into his pocket, the handle to his wand lay just at his fingertips. As much trouble as he was already in, he didn’t care, Howard would defend himself. A hint of a smile would cross his face as he reveled in the chance to use his power again. He eyed them as they passed, walking to join another.
“Yeah, it was me. What of it?” Howard called out to them, arms raised outwards in the typical ‘come at me bro’ fashion. Just then, Erin called out as well, insulting them before entering the bathroom. She would not escape this situation so easily. There would be a price to pay for her slight against him. Gone were the days where he would tolerate such things. Casting another intimidating glance at the Ravenclaws, he entered the bathroom after her.
Howard shoved the door open, expecting to see Erin, however he was met with nothing but sinks and tiled floors. As he took a step forward a force hit him from behind. Perhaps a pair of legs would swing around his waist as arms pressed against his throat, like an attacking spider monkey. Or maybe those arms would pull his head backwards, causing his back to bend. Either way those arms would squeeze tight, cutting off the blood flow to his brain. Howard would struggle. He was not the strongest of boys, but his height may give him advantage. Stars began to pop in his vision as a feeling of light headedness over took him. In a last ditch effort he would push backwards with all of his strength, hopefully driving his attacker into a wall.
Cleaning is for the Birds
It was going to be a long, hilarious day. Howard was already sure of himself, sure that somehow she was going to be the one with a bad day. He mouthed his threats, Erin's only disappointment being that he did not do something incredibly stupid in front of the Headmaster that she could feign tears over.
Once Headmaster Lear left, she started her games. She was sending the Ravenclaw 'bullies' after Howard. She would abscond to the bathroom, if one followed her as she assumed one would she would take them down and enjoy her day, periodically prodding at the Hufflepuff for the 'lawls.'
Erin was not expecting Howard, she was expecting one of the Ravenclaws to try to corner her in the bathroom. Maybe she overestimated them. Or perhaps she underestimated Howard. She did not even realize it was Howard until after she had jumped on his back and the assault commenced. An 'attack spider monkey' was an apt description of the assault. Howard was the same age as her but nearly a foot taller; she would have to take a running leap and latch onto his back. Her legs wrapped around his waist and locked at her ankles and her arms were wrapped around his throat in a vice-like grip. She was squeezing the life and the air out of him or at least she was trying. She had no intention of killing the assumed Ravenclaw, no she was just going to taken him down, get him out of her way and if they were interesting enough have a bit of fun with them to help pass the hours. She was absolutely famished.
Howard would wheel backwards, crashing into the tiled wall of the bathroom. Erin's spine would hit the wall hard, she would let out whispering huff of pain as she made impact. She should have yelled out just then to alert someone else to intervene but she thought that she had a Ravenclaw in her grasp. It would have been harder to convince her would-be 'heroes' that they were the assailant and the result might have proved poor for her had she the Slytherin reasoned. Her grip loosened around Howard's neck for perhaps a moment, enough for a rush of blood to reach Howard's brain for an instant before she tried to tighten her grip once again. As Howard pressed his back against the wall, it was getting hard for the Slytherin to breathe also. Blood might have been getting to her brain, but it was hard to get air into her lungs and her recently healed fractured ribs ached as pressure was exerted. It was hard for her to keep her grip. "The hell they feeding you dorks," she hissed still not recognizing Howard from behind.
A sudden twist of Howard's waist while she was pressed against the wall would be all Howard White would need to rip the Erin from his back. If she was ripped off of his back, she would not relinquish her grip easily or gently, her nails might rip into his collar from left to right as she is flung off. She would slide on the tile floor for several feet once parted from her climbing tree; a floor she should have cleaned before she got into a fight. She would scurry to her feet, using the urinal to her back as leverage to stand. A shower was already in order and this was just the start of the day.
It would be then that she would realize that her opponent was Howard.
"Dammit," she muttered out loud. The last time they got into a 'tiff' yeah let's call it a 'tiff' she did not fare as well as she would have liked. She might have gotten a few bruises, a couple of cuts, but this last incent in the Library was something extraordinary. He did not just fight back, he did not seem to consider the fact that he could kill and that he had the strength and power to do so. It was a terrifying combination, had she been capable of being afraid she would have been right now. Despite the lack of trepidation naturally arising, she was cognizant of the risk Howard represented. Howard was, as 'weak' as he might have been, still bigger than her and a better caster. As for strength, she was a bit of an anomaly there but it did no good when someone could mutter a bit of Latin and cause an entire library to collapse on her face. That and the fact that Howard likely outweighed her by likely a good forty or more pounds. [Erin is almost 100 pounds.]
"Fucking dorks those Ravenclaws," her mouth cocked to the side. She had expected them to beat the Huffleprick senseless, that she would get the left-overs but it seemed like the Ravenclaws really were bookworms.
At this rate, nothing was going to get cleaned unless Thomas and Ariella did it all. Erin did not seem to care. Was it because she was feeding or was it because she was surviving. At the moment it was the later. Howard was a veritable buffet, but it was like trying to eat a bear while it was still alive. He would gore her before she got a chance to sink her metaphorical teeth into him. She had every intention of molding Howard into something for her ends, but this... this... berserker was a greater risk than boon. She needed to have the advantage if she was to encounter him and this was far from advantageous. She needed to scare him off somehow.
The threat of violence was not going to deter him, wrath seemed to ooze from his pores. In fact, it was possible that he was invigorated by this violence. By the freedom and the power that it offered. An appeal to his sensibilities? No, she had damaged those along with the mores that would have prevented this altercation in the first place. What did he have left?
She would use the same tactic she used on Leeds. It was one of the most basic things a girl had in their playbook.
"Get your own room or I will scream 'pervert'" she threatened. Yeah, they were 'only' thirteen, that one worked when she was twelve.
==========
If Howard failed to knock Erin off. If he only try to crash Erin directly into the wall several times, after that first shock of impact and the resultant momentary loss of grip she would only tighten her hold on Howard. With each bash against the wall Erin would let out a noise, muffled to not much more than a whisper as she endeavored to avoid raising suspicion or attention to this room. "Chill... out... big guy," Erin would breathlessly mutter into his ear. Her legs would tighten around his waist, anchoring her onto his back as she continued to squeeze until Howard's knees buckled beneath him.
Howard would go down hard, Erin would land on top of him. She would go to work right away, craning the arms of her prone opponent behind his back. She would remove her belt, it was a thin strip of leather, strong enough to hold even this guy down she reasoned. Her intent, to restrain him, looping her belt around his wrists and his own belt as quickly as she could.
Without exerting the pressure she had been on his neck, her opponent would only be unconscious for a few seconds. He needed to be restrained before he woke, otherwise it was likely that she would be the one on the floor. She would also pat down his pockets and attempt to retrieve his wand. In the wizarding world it was like checking for a gun. It was only after all of this that she would turn him over and realize it was Howard.
He might have even woke at the moment she realized it was him. She would state out loud, "neat... Howard is always a great time." She was speaking of course to herself. If he was awake, she would step away from the cobra and let him find a means by which to stand up. If he remained unconscious still, Erin would check for a pulse on his neck. She wanted to be certain. Then she would straddle his legs, her back to his face and tie his shoelaces together. She was not taking any chances with Howard.
Regardless on when Howard roused, be it after moments, several minutes or even a few hours Erin would be nearby. The only difference being what she was doing at the time. Be it attempting to restrain him further or cleaning the bathroom as she was supposed to. If she had time and Howard remained unconscious or at least she believed he had, she would lock the bathroom door and start cleaning. She had her plaything for the day, but she had to work before she could play.
If Howard threatened that he would call for help, Erin had a simple answer. "I will gag you then, and I assure you that there is not a thing in this space that you want in your mouth," she would warn.
Once Headmaster Lear left, she started her games. She was sending the Ravenclaw 'bullies' after Howard. She would abscond to the bathroom, if one followed her as she assumed one would she would take them down and enjoy her day, periodically prodding at the Hufflepuff for the 'lawls.'
Erin was not expecting Howard, she was expecting one of the Ravenclaws to try to corner her in the bathroom. Maybe she overestimated them. Or perhaps she underestimated Howard. She did not even realize it was Howard until after she had jumped on his back and the assault commenced. An 'attack spider monkey' was an apt description of the assault. Howard was the same age as her but nearly a foot taller; she would have to take a running leap and latch onto his back. Her legs wrapped around his waist and locked at her ankles and her arms were wrapped around his throat in a vice-like grip. She was squeezing the life and the air out of him or at least she was trying. She had no intention of killing the assumed Ravenclaw, no she was just going to taken him down, get him out of her way and if they were interesting enough have a bit of fun with them to help pass the hours. She was absolutely famished.
Howard would wheel backwards, crashing into the tiled wall of the bathroom. Erin's spine would hit the wall hard, she would let out whispering huff of pain as she made impact. She should have yelled out just then to alert someone else to intervene but she thought that she had a Ravenclaw in her grasp. It would have been harder to convince her would-be 'heroes' that they were the assailant and the result might have proved poor for her had she the Slytherin reasoned. Her grip loosened around Howard's neck for perhaps a moment, enough for a rush of blood to reach Howard's brain for an instant before she tried to tighten her grip once again. As Howard pressed his back against the wall, it was getting hard for the Slytherin to breathe also. Blood might have been getting to her brain, but it was hard to get air into her lungs and her recently healed fractured ribs ached as pressure was exerted. It was hard for her to keep her grip. "The hell they feeding you dorks," she hissed still not recognizing Howard from behind.
A sudden twist of Howard's waist while she was pressed against the wall would be all Howard White would need to rip the Erin from his back. If she was ripped off of his back, she would not relinquish her grip easily or gently, her nails might rip into his collar from left to right as she is flung off. She would slide on the tile floor for several feet once parted from her climbing tree; a floor she should have cleaned before she got into a fight. She would scurry to her feet, using the urinal to her back as leverage to stand. A shower was already in order and this was just the start of the day.
It would be then that she would realize that her opponent was Howard.
"Dammit," she muttered out loud. The last time they got into a 'tiff' yeah let's call it a 'tiff' she did not fare as well as she would have liked. She might have gotten a few bruises, a couple of cuts, but this last incent in the Library was something extraordinary. He did not just fight back, he did not seem to consider the fact that he could kill and that he had the strength and power to do so. It was a terrifying combination, had she been capable of being afraid she would have been right now. Despite the lack of trepidation naturally arising, she was cognizant of the risk Howard represented. Howard was, as 'weak' as he might have been, still bigger than her and a better caster. As for strength, she was a bit of an anomaly there but it did no good when someone could mutter a bit of Latin and cause an entire library to collapse on her face. That and the fact that Howard likely outweighed her by likely a good forty or more pounds. [Erin is almost 100 pounds.]
"Fucking dorks those Ravenclaws," her mouth cocked to the side. She had expected them to beat the Huffleprick senseless, that she would get the left-overs but it seemed like the Ravenclaws really were bookworms.
At this rate, nothing was going to get cleaned unless Thomas and Ariella did it all. Erin did not seem to care. Was it because she was feeding or was it because she was surviving. At the moment it was the later. Howard was a veritable buffet, but it was like trying to eat a bear while it was still alive. He would gore her before she got a chance to sink her metaphorical teeth into him. She had every intention of molding Howard into something for her ends, but this... this... berserker was a greater risk than boon. She needed to have the advantage if she was to encounter him and this was far from advantageous. She needed to scare him off somehow.
The threat of violence was not going to deter him, wrath seemed to ooze from his pores. In fact, it was possible that he was invigorated by this violence. By the freedom and the power that it offered. An appeal to his sensibilities? No, she had damaged those along with the mores that would have prevented this altercation in the first place. What did he have left?
She would use the same tactic she used on Leeds. It was one of the most basic things a girl had in their playbook.
"Get your own room or I will scream 'pervert'" she threatened. Yeah, they were 'only' thirteen, that one worked when she was twelve.
==========
If Howard failed to knock Erin off. If he only try to crash Erin directly into the wall several times, after that first shock of impact and the resultant momentary loss of grip she would only tighten her hold on Howard. With each bash against the wall Erin would let out a noise, muffled to not much more than a whisper as she endeavored to avoid raising suspicion or attention to this room. "Chill... out... big guy," Erin would breathlessly mutter into his ear. Her legs would tighten around his waist, anchoring her onto his back as she continued to squeeze until Howard's knees buckled beneath him.
Howard would go down hard, Erin would land on top of him. She would go to work right away, craning the arms of her prone opponent behind his back. She would remove her belt, it was a thin strip of leather, strong enough to hold even this guy down she reasoned. Her intent, to restrain him, looping her belt around his wrists and his own belt as quickly as she could.
Without exerting the pressure she had been on his neck, her opponent would only be unconscious for a few seconds. He needed to be restrained before he woke, otherwise it was likely that she would be the one on the floor. She would also pat down his pockets and attempt to retrieve his wand. In the wizarding world it was like checking for a gun. It was only after all of this that she would turn him over and realize it was Howard.
He might have even woke at the moment she realized it was him. She would state out loud, "neat... Howard is always a great time." She was speaking of course to herself. If he was awake, she would step away from the cobra and let him find a means by which to stand up. If he remained unconscious still, Erin would check for a pulse on his neck. She wanted to be certain. Then she would straddle his legs, her back to his face and tie his shoelaces together. She was not taking any chances with Howard.
Regardless on when Howard roused, be it after moments, several minutes or even a few hours Erin would be nearby. The only difference being what she was doing at the time. Be it attempting to restrain him further or cleaning the bathroom as she was supposed to. If she had time and Howard remained unconscious or at least she believed he had, she would lock the bathroom door and start cleaning. She had her plaything for the day, but she had to work before she could play.
If Howard threatened that he would call for help, Erin had a simple answer. "I will gag you then, and I assure you that there is not a thing in this space that you want in your mouth," she would warn.
Just a trick of the lighting they said...
Cleaning is for the Birds
I appear missing - Queens of the Stone Age
The quartet followed the headmaster up the steps with a collective sense of dread for the challenging day ahead of them. A test of preserving a state of peace amongst each other after failing to do so twice in two interactions. The presence of the school headmaster reminded Thomas of his former club hockey coach minus the metallic set of armor. A deadpan expression with a direct tone. The type of man that would have high expectations for his learners, and rare praise for their achievements. At first glance during the sorting ceremony, Thomas viewed him as some type of medieval general that would sit back on his steed behind his soldiers during battle. After watching him helplessly fling his body over Ariella during the library incident, he gained respect to see him far differently. As the man that would stand in front of his soldiers to lead the attack, willing to sacrifice himself to preserve his troops.
That damn bird (whether a raven or eagle) was enough to signal to Thomas they were approaching the Ravenclaw common room. Other than Ariella he has not encountered Ravenclaw students, though he held a resentment for the victors of the House Cup for the previous month. Thomas does not care about his academic scores or how other students’ may view him as a troubled boy with a negative future. He did care about losing, this competitive fire would motivate him to complete a handful of tasks that would not align with his perceived character.
Thomas carry two buckets, one with warm water, the other assorted cleaning supplies. After the professor led them past the painting, he set them on a table near the bookshelves. A handful of Ravenclaw students spread throughout the tables, some at the bookshelves, other near the windows carrying light conversation about the significance of their spirit animal and its relation to their patronous charm. Like a bunch of yuppies fresh out of Harvard.
As the headmaster took his leave Thomas did not utter a word. As much as desired, he knew declaring his innocence would not do him any good---what’s done is done. Many of the Ravenclaws’ would glare at the four. It appeared the lingering annoyance from their task to repair the library wouldn’t fade for quite some time.
"He was the one that cast the spell that caused those bookshelves to get knocked over."
Erin wasted no time to stir the pot and quickly remove herself from the situation, drawing a handful of older Ravenclaws near them. Unfortunately for Howard, her statement was not false. Thomas watched on as Erin entered the bathroom, seemingly unaware that Howard followed behind. Perhaps Howard had the agenda of finishing what he began in the library that day, and what he couldn’t do in the hospital for reasons beyond Thomas’ understanding. A temptation to join them developed within, but it would risk his position as Erin’s “ally”. While assisting her to defeat Howard may prove to be a large step in gaining trust, the act would corrupt the boy beyond rectification. Not that he was any friend of Howard’s, but they had a like-minded goal to end Erin. The difference was Howard seemed willing to murder the girl, Thomas opted for a defeat that would not result in being expelled.
It was only a matter of time before he was put in a position to choose a side. This fact motivated the boy to complete the task at hand quickly, even if it meant he was to do all the work. Though it was difficult to ignore the curiosity of what was going on in that bathroom other than human excrement. He took the furniture polish and a rag, hurried steps to one of the bookshelves.
Only a few moments passed, a Ravenclaw student approached the boy from behind gracefully enough to bypass the senses of Thomas. “Careful not to knock it over!” A startling shout from the elder student, several inches taller than Thomas. The student’s left hand gripped the wood to Thomas’ right to block an exit in that direction, using the free hand to reach above and pull a book from a row, dropping it on the head of the Slytherin boy. The spine of the book made harsh contact with his head before dropping idly to the floor. “Pick that up.” The temper that has come to define him flashed quickly, he spit in the direction of the book below, but most of the saliva contacted the top of the opposing boy’s shoe. With a quick motion the Ravenclaw grasped Thomas’ neck with a moderate grip, shoving him into the bookcase harshly. There was a booming crash from the back-end wood contacting the wall, a few books dropped from their shelves onto the floor around the boys. “Big mistake, Slytherin.”
The other boy was surely older, stronger, taller, and more competent with magic. Thomas was no match for him, but that wouldn’t stop the fiery Slytherin from making an effort. While he was currently pinned against the shelf, he brought his knees up to his chest, pressuring his back against the bookshelf, kicking his feet out to contact the boy’s groin. The Ravenclaw stumbled backwards having lost his grip, Thomas fell harshly to the ground. The stoked adrenaline helped him ignore the pain for the moment, he quickly regained his feet. Thomas reached back into the shelf behind without taking his sight off the boy, gripping the spine of another book, hurling it at the boy. He was no pitcher, as the book flew over his target’s head across the room near a table of Ravenclaw students. They looked at him as if he had just questioned the existence of god at Christian youth group gathering.
The Ravenclaw smirked, taking a few steps back while he slowly drew his wand, pointing it at Thomas. Drawing his, Thomas exclaimed “I was trying to fucking clean!” He scanned his limited options of spells carefully, desperately hoping for a positive intervention.
We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be
Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 7 | Wisdom: 8 | ArcPower: 3 | Accuracy: 7
Ability - Evasive Maneuvers 2x
Cleaning is for the Birds
The boy was in the common room, just passing through, when he saw a slytherin kick an older ravenclaw. What was that about, anyway? A fight usually meant something serious, but how the heck was he supposed to determine what was going on? He could, of course, simply ignore the fight and keep walking, but this was the Raven common room, and that was a Slytherin. How the heck did a Slytherin get inside? Was this a raid?
The boy was skinny, and far too pale to be considered healthy, skin bearing a remarkable resemblance to a sickly white wonton wrapper. His hair was extremely messy, black as black could be with a few twigs and leaves ensnared here and there. His eyes were tired, the boy was clearly not sleeping enough. Huge dark shadows hung under his eyes, with the top border being marked with drooping eyelids that threatened to close at any second.
He wore a blue cape splotched with black, and a grey scarf over frayed and patched robes that were clearly a few sized too large. A unusually long umbrella was fastened to his back, completing his bizarre look. He had almost walked past when he stopped to turn and look at the Slytherin.
"Am I supposed to kill you? Is that what we're doing?"
If he was right and that was what was going on, it would come as no surprise. The boy was probably sent by the professors to prove his mettle in honorable combat with the ravenclaws or something like that. Or maybe he was a death witch trying to drag down as many other students as possible before his potion or spell or whatever wore off and the School discovered who he truly was. There were a lot of possibilities, if he was being honest with himself. Which was why it was probably best to just ask if they were supposed to fight. He got ready, just in case.
If the boy attacked, or moved forward, Kaegen would simply jump backwards, staying clear of the effective range of the Slytherin's arms and legs and lunges. He didn't want to let the other boy strike the first blow. That was a strategic advantage he wanted to keep for himself, and besides, the Ravenclaw was suited for ranged combat a lot more than for close quarters. Not many wizards carried around a slingshot.
"If this is just a house fight thing, then consider me excluded. I don't fight for ravenclaw. But otherwise, I have some time before I need to record again, and you don't look like you would take much time."
His voice was quiet, sounding a bit like a weak, loud whisper. Like there wasn't enough power behind the voice to project more than the loud whisper he was currently maintaining. The power of his voice was not something Kae liked to brag about, with good reason. If he tried to scream or yell, it would most likely just sound like one long rasping voice crack. Calling for help wasn't his thing anyway, but it still bothered him how loud the other students could be.
Kaegen could feel fear creeping down his spine, the long, slender finger on his left hand twitching slightly. He honestly didn't know how powerful this boy was, but he was hoping to either bluff his way out of this, or, if the Slytherin did turn out to be a death witch, he hoped to be able to kill it fast. With any luck it was below a 5. And just a second ago while the boy had been fighting with the older ravenclaw, he had only used his kick. That might mean that there weren't any stronger weapons at the Slytherin's disposal, but he wasn't going to count on it.
A few of the Ravenclaws noticed Kae come in, and moved out of the way, a fair sized portion of the crowd conveniently excusing themselves. It wasn't exactly surprising, they had heard some of the things the Ex-prefect had done. Rumors spread fast, after all. And he was already in his second year. Most people just didn't want to be around the volatile boy, and those that did often just liked to prove a point. That they weren't scared of the skinny little boy who couldn't even speak menacingly.
The boy was skinny, and far too pale to be considered healthy, skin bearing a remarkable resemblance to a sickly white wonton wrapper. His hair was extremely messy, black as black could be with a few twigs and leaves ensnared here and there. His eyes were tired, the boy was clearly not sleeping enough. Huge dark shadows hung under his eyes, with the top border being marked with drooping eyelids that threatened to close at any second.
He wore a blue cape splotched with black, and a grey scarf over frayed and patched robes that were clearly a few sized too large. A unusually long umbrella was fastened to his back, completing his bizarre look. He had almost walked past when he stopped to turn and look at the Slytherin.
"Am I supposed to kill you? Is that what we're doing?"
If he was right and that was what was going on, it would come as no surprise. The boy was probably sent by the professors to prove his mettle in honorable combat with the ravenclaws or something like that. Or maybe he was a death witch trying to drag down as many other students as possible before his potion or spell or whatever wore off and the School discovered who he truly was. There were a lot of possibilities, if he was being honest with himself. Which was why it was probably best to just ask if they were supposed to fight. He got ready, just in case.
If the boy attacked, or moved forward, Kaegen would simply jump backwards, staying clear of the effective range of the Slytherin's arms and legs and lunges. He didn't want to let the other boy strike the first blow. That was a strategic advantage he wanted to keep for himself, and besides, the Ravenclaw was suited for ranged combat a lot more than for close quarters. Not many wizards carried around a slingshot.
"If this is just a house fight thing, then consider me excluded. I don't fight for ravenclaw. But otherwise, I have some time before I need to record again, and you don't look like you would take much time."
His voice was quiet, sounding a bit like a weak, loud whisper. Like there wasn't enough power behind the voice to project more than the loud whisper he was currently maintaining. The power of his voice was not something Kae liked to brag about, with good reason. If he tried to scream or yell, it would most likely just sound like one long rasping voice crack. Calling for help wasn't his thing anyway, but it still bothered him how loud the other students could be.
Kaegen could feel fear creeping down his spine, the long, slender finger on his left hand twitching slightly. He honestly didn't know how powerful this boy was, but he was hoping to either bluff his way out of this, or, if the Slytherin did turn out to be a death witch, he hoped to be able to kill it fast. With any luck it was below a 5. And just a second ago while the boy had been fighting with the older ravenclaw, he had only used his kick. That might mean that there weren't any stronger weapons at the Slytherin's disposal, but he wasn't going to count on it.
A few of the Ravenclaws noticed Kae come in, and moved out of the way, a fair sized portion of the crowd conveniently excusing themselves. It wasn't exactly surprising, they had heard some of the things the Ex-prefect had done. Rumors spread fast, after all. And he was already in his second year. Most people just didn't want to be around the volatile boy, and those that did often just liked to prove a point. That they weren't scared of the skinny little boy who couldn't even speak menacingly.
Shade-Beacon, Master of the Castle of Avarice
Cleaning is for the Birds
Howard and Erin crashed violently into the bathroom wall, the impact causing her grip on his neck to falter for just a moment. He gasped, taking in the guttural gulp of air one might take when breaching the waters surface after being submerged for too long. His hand quickly shot up to grasp her forearm, but his reaction was too slow. Her arm would press against his throat once more, the unusual strength for a girl her size prevailing over that of his own. Howard’s face would turn a deep red as he continued to push backwards, slamming her repeatedly into the wall, his nails digging into the flesh of her forearm as he attempted to claw his way to freedom. After the second or third bash, his movements would slow as his knees began to wobble, the thrashing of his hands would turn more into a petting motion, his grunts of exertion would turn to a low moan. He blinked once as his vision blurred, little flashes of white popped in his eyes. The second blink would bring black.
“Chill...out...big guy.”
Howard’s hands slumped to his side as his body fell forward like a tree crashing in the forest. He would not feel the impact of his face hitting the floor, but Erin might hear a satisfying crunch as his nose broke upon contact. While his body suffered physical trauma, his mind was floating through the most comfortable of darknesses. Here, there was no anxiety, no stress, no burning rage to grapple with. It was quiet, all the boy could hear was low buzzing sound and the rhythmic beat of his heart. Thump thump...thump thump. Had he been conscious, Howard may have smiled for the first time in ages.
However, this brief moment of peace would not last as the oxygen rich blood began to return to his brain. His consciousness stirred. That moment when you first wake and the line between your dreams and reality blur. The warm comfortable air of unconsciousness turned ice cold, a mysterious fog rolled around him. His body was being tampered with. Someone or something, restrained his arms, pilfered through his pockets. As he was rolled over, it would return to him. He was staring straight into the dementors dead and rotten face, it’s hood pulled back as it fed on him. The familiar flashes on images tore through his mind, his fists lashed out, the wet smack that followed each blow, the incredible feeling of power filled him as his rage burst forth.
Howard’s eyes shot open as he fully woke. Blinking repeatedly, his vision returned to him. He would see no dementor, just the stale white color of the bathroom ceiling. Exhaling brought a terrible pain through his nose as a sliver of air squeaked through the broken bones and swollen cartilage, a small blood bubble formed in his nostril. “Arghh.” His hands went to naturally cup the wound, but they would be met with resistance. Pulling hard he realized that his hand were tied behind his back. Attempting to sit up, his ankles seemed locked together. Looking down, the laces to his boots were tied together. Rolling around on his back like a flipped turtle, he eventually caught site of Erin. Her back was turned, as she latched the door closed.
“God damn you!” His voice was course, and muffled like someone talking with their nose pinched. As silly as his voice may sound, there was no mistaking his feelings with the look in his eyes. Erin had seen it before, the uncontrollable rage burst through him. “Untie me!” He screamed as he violently tore at his restraints, his arms and legs thrashing around like someone suffering a terrible seizure. “Arrrrrrh.” Another guttural noise escaped his lips as he gave one final pull, but they would not give. Howard was left lying on the floor, seething in anger as his chest heaved.
“I will gag you then, and I sure you that there is not a thing in this place that you want in your mouth.”
Howard let his head fall back against the floor. It took every ounce of his control not to shout further. He stopped his squirming and laid still as he fought back the rage and attempted rational thought. Howard would need his words when he found a way out of his restraints, little did he know that Erin had swiped his wand. “What do you want?” Another of her games had begun.
“Chill...out...big guy.”
Howard’s hands slumped to his side as his body fell forward like a tree crashing in the forest. He would not feel the impact of his face hitting the floor, but Erin might hear a satisfying crunch as his nose broke upon contact. While his body suffered physical trauma, his mind was floating through the most comfortable of darknesses. Here, there was no anxiety, no stress, no burning rage to grapple with. It was quiet, all the boy could hear was low buzzing sound and the rhythmic beat of his heart. Thump thump...thump thump. Had he been conscious, Howard may have smiled for the first time in ages.
However, this brief moment of peace would not last as the oxygen rich blood began to return to his brain. His consciousness stirred. That moment when you first wake and the line between your dreams and reality blur. The warm comfortable air of unconsciousness turned ice cold, a mysterious fog rolled around him. His body was being tampered with. Someone or something, restrained his arms, pilfered through his pockets. As he was rolled over, it would return to him. He was staring straight into the dementors dead and rotten face, it’s hood pulled back as it fed on him. The familiar flashes on images tore through his mind, his fists lashed out, the wet smack that followed each blow, the incredible feeling of power filled him as his rage burst forth.
Howard’s eyes shot open as he fully woke. Blinking repeatedly, his vision returned to him. He would see no dementor, just the stale white color of the bathroom ceiling. Exhaling brought a terrible pain through his nose as a sliver of air squeaked through the broken bones and swollen cartilage, a small blood bubble formed in his nostril. “Arghh.” His hands went to naturally cup the wound, but they would be met with resistance. Pulling hard he realized that his hand were tied behind his back. Attempting to sit up, his ankles seemed locked together. Looking down, the laces to his boots were tied together. Rolling around on his back like a flipped turtle, he eventually caught site of Erin. Her back was turned, as she latched the door closed.
“God damn you!” His voice was course, and muffled like someone talking with their nose pinched. As silly as his voice may sound, there was no mistaking his feelings with the look in his eyes. Erin had seen it before, the uncontrollable rage burst through him. “Untie me!” He screamed as he violently tore at his restraints, his arms and legs thrashing around like someone suffering a terrible seizure. “Arrrrrrh.” Another guttural noise escaped his lips as he gave one final pull, but they would not give. Howard was left lying on the floor, seething in anger as his chest heaved.
“I will gag you then, and I sure you that there is not a thing in this place that you want in your mouth.”
Howard let his head fall back against the floor. It took every ounce of his control not to shout further. He stopped his squirming and laid still as he fought back the rage and attempted rational thought. Howard would need his words when he found a way out of his restraints, little did he know that Erin had swiped his wand. “What do you want?” Another of her games had begun.
Cleaning is for the Birds
He, well they came crashing down to the floor. He fell forward, his face hit the tiles and with a sickening crack his nose was fractured. An unintended injury that would be readily apparent when she saw the streak of blood on the floor and the stream of blood that escaped his nostril. Restraining the Huffle took priority over medical attention, she recalled his potential once she recognized his face. He was one of those men you kept chained up someplace, too dangerous to be allowed to roam free.
She did not even realize that she was bleeding as well, that Howard's nails left crescent-shaped markings on her arms. That her blood was beneath his nails. Not that there was a CSI Hogwarts to be concerned about. It was almost as if she had done this before, she hadn't, but she knew what to do.
She would lock the door of the bathroom with a click of the knob. She would give the knob a rattle to make sure that the door was securely locked, silently wishing that there was a bar. It was then that Howard stirred, she could hear him shifting and she could feel his pain, she could also feel his confusion. More movement. In a flash that coincided the revelation of his predicament it would come, anger.
Howard had an intuitive moment before he rose, in that dark black stormy sea called his mind he saw it. The truth. The mind was a funny thing. Prophets would see the fate of the world in their dreams or in their hearth. The future, the past, the truth, sometimes obscure but always there and for a moment, sometimes the mind knew things that the man did not. Yet just then Howard saw it. Well, he was incredibly close to the truth.
Her ability to feel underdeveloped, call it a consequence of nature or nurture. Erin was not a dementor, but that was part of why she was the way that she was. It started thirteen, almost fourteen years ago. Before she was born. Her parents studied one of the few great mysteries that remained: dementors. What were they? Why did they exist? How did they feed? Why did they feed? A study of observation where they spent years in relative proximity. She had said it before, her parents did not love her. It was not because she was a terrible, cruel child, although that would have been a fitting reason but rather because they could not - there was no love to give. Of course the information that Howard had was incomplete, Erin lacked the personal understanding to truly and adequately explain it. She said that she could not feel; in truth it was very limited. She had the occasional, rare faint spark that she had earned through incredible and trying moment. It was not quite impossible, just what was within her was so distant and so far that the truth depth of emotion was always just outside of her reach. So she filled that hollow, like a vacuum with theirs. With people like Marcus and Sebastian, Thomas and Howard. It was more than a predatory nature, it was an instinct that drove her to sate this unrelenting, voracious hunger. It was not a power, but rather a natural law where areas of high concentration would be drawn to areas of low concentration and comparatively the young girl was an emotional void, she was drawn to people such as Howard.
Erin was far from unintelligent, she was cold and calculating. One would have thought that she would have sought what the dementors seemed to hunger for -- love and happiness. That she would take from and experience their joy, steal their light and make it her own. Such would be true if she knew happiness as more than a fleeting tease. People were incredibly unhappy. It was something sick and twisted about their natures, how they could be loved, need and want for nothing and still be miserable. How they always sought and yearned for more, gluttonous, envious and full of avarice. Happiness, like love is often feigned. Not that she had not felt it, but those moments of warmth and comfort were momentary. Happiness and love were not something she could purposefully elicit. Anger and spite, on the other hand, was something that she could force to the surface with ease. It filled that void with something. It made her no longer empty. It made her feel for such a brief time that she was alive. Howard had once proved to be the exception, she wondered if he remembered how he tried to defeat her with what... the power of his mother's love?
“Arghh.”
She would look over at Howard as he struggled to turn over. "Good, you're awake," she commented as if he was taking a nap on the couch and woke up in time for the half-time show. She would turn towards the bucket she had placed on the floor, out of the corner of her eye and she would watch Howard struggle to turn over. She had restrained him in haste, there was come concern that she should have tied him tighter, but thus far the bindings proved sufficient. "It would be quite dull had you remained asleep," she admitted as she took a rag from her bucket. "You're incredibly durable," she announced as she approached the sink and turned the water on. Unlike the abandoned bath where the water ran brown, the color she had grown accustomed to from these sinks, this water was white. It did not sputter or spurt as it came in a steady, strong stream. "Strong too," she added as she wet the rag, folding the cloth twice into a square.
“God damn you!”
Howard shouted, in this room his voice had a slight echo that would reverberate off the walls in an eerie way. "Afraid your God likely already has," she commented almost casually. "Again with the religious mythology, how muggle," she turned off the water and wrung the rag almost dry. "Did you get that from your mother?" It was always the mother with these boys, some sainted figure that was less than worthy but loved, admired or even worshiped by their progeny because of some abstract claim of love. "Let me tell you a secret darling, there aint no God because if there was... you would not be sitting there." She was walking towards him, rag in hand.
“Untie me!”
Howard demanded. Erin was standing next to him by this time. "You can ask your muggle God for aid," she offered as she knelt next to the thrashing youth.
“Arrrrrrh.”
He was making so much noise. Thomas seemed preoccupied, he had not come rushing in during the scuffle between the two of them. Perhaps the walls were well insulated. Well, either that or he was going to let nature and fate take their course. She was not particularly concerned with Thomas, between the two of them Howard was further along, or so she believed. Thomas was more likely to stand back and observe an altercation over becoming directly involved per her observations. Still, the Ravenclaws could enter, put an end to her game.
She threatened to gag him. She was not lying when she said that there was nothing here that he would want in his mouth but she did not warn him for his sake. No, she said such because the interaction would have been fully one-sided had she stuffed something in his mouth and what good was that? It seemed like the threat was enough for the moment, he had ceased his struggling for the time. If Howard was leaned onto his side or slouched over, she would reach for the collar of his shirt and pull him upright so that he was propped into a sitting position against the wall. Rag still in hand, she knelt down next to him and then brought one of her legs over both of his. She was not sitting on his lap, she was simply hovering over him, her knees planted on either side of his bound pair. She leaned forward. "Breathe through your mouth," Erin warned without any context as she placed the cold, damp rag over his nose, it covered his nares. "You would be a lot less fun dead... drowned in your own blood," she announced. The cold cloth would clean the blood some, not that she was a neat freak but the cold would also slow the blood loss.
“What do you want?”
"You," Erin answered simply. In really any other context, that might have been a nice thing to hear. Perhaps in a few years, said by a nice girl, that single word might have been considered romantic. That was not the case today - not here, not now. Not tied up on this bathroom floor, unless well of course Howard was into something erm… well, 'unique.' No fetish-shaming here.
Her fingers would pinch the bridge of his nose. "Take a deep breath," she instructed. She only gave a second's warning, long enough for him to take a breath had he chose to be compliant before her free hand would cup with mouth. No more shouting. With a sudden movement, she would shift his broken nose back into place, the crunch and grind sounding louder to Howard than it did to Erin. She had broken her fair share of noses and the broken leg she suffered in the library was not her first or would it be her last major fracture. She knew the routine -- keep the wounds clean and make sure that the bones set right.
Her hand would leave his mouth after the shouting or cussing ceased, had there been any. She would flip the rag, cold side down over his nose and continue to exert firm pressure. "But I will start with learning a bit more about you Howard," Erin offered as she returned to his previous question: what did she want? She would relinquish her grip on his nose after a few seconds, presuming that the bleeding had ceased. "Better," she announced as she relaxed her stiff stance over him and the back of her thighs rested on his legs.
She had taken his wand, it looked similar to her own, a bit longer than hers but she had a harder wood. They shared the same core. She pulled them both out of her waistband. "Your wand, it is similar to mine," Erin observed as she studied it for the first time in front of him. It felt smooth, she even thought she felt it shudder in response to her touch but that was likely her imagination. "Are you familiar with the significance of unicorn hair, the core we both share?" Of course he wasn't, a half muggle he would be lucky to know which wand he used to cast and which wand he used to piss with.
"Unicorn hair belongs to a wand that is loyal," she announced. "Like a Hufflepuff," she alleged. Hufflepuffs were not necessarily 'good' but they were consistent with who they allied themselves with or against. Her possession of the same core said something also about her nature and why it was not Thomas on the ground beneath her. A contract was made between Thomas and Erin, and while the sly snake might not have meant his words of allegiance, she meant hers. "The wood... echoes your loyal nature," she continued to lecture as her wandless hand reached up and her fingers combed through his hair (still a buzzcut or did it grow back in these months?) "Your wand resonates with what I see in you, from the storm of discontent. That dire, malicious wrath your opponents endure as a result of their offense against what is yours," if there was some length to his hair her fingers would grip the hair closer to the back of his head and she gave it a tug. "I must ask what is yours... so I might break it and be your enemy or make it my own so that you might be mine."
That was what she wanted.
She did not even realize that she was bleeding as well, that Howard's nails left crescent-shaped markings on her arms. That her blood was beneath his nails. Not that there was a CSI Hogwarts to be concerned about. It was almost as if she had done this before, she hadn't, but she knew what to do.
She would lock the door of the bathroom with a click of the knob. She would give the knob a rattle to make sure that the door was securely locked, silently wishing that there was a bar. It was then that Howard stirred, she could hear him shifting and she could feel his pain, she could also feel his confusion. More movement. In a flash that coincided the revelation of his predicament it would come, anger.
Howard had an intuitive moment before he rose, in that dark black stormy sea called his mind he saw it. The truth. The mind was a funny thing. Prophets would see the fate of the world in their dreams or in their hearth. The future, the past, the truth, sometimes obscure but always there and for a moment, sometimes the mind knew things that the man did not. Yet just then Howard saw it. Well, he was incredibly close to the truth.
Her ability to feel underdeveloped, call it a consequence of nature or nurture. Erin was not a dementor, but that was part of why she was the way that she was. It started thirteen, almost fourteen years ago. Before she was born. Her parents studied one of the few great mysteries that remained: dementors. What were they? Why did they exist? How did they feed? Why did they feed? A study of observation where they spent years in relative proximity. She had said it before, her parents did not love her. It was not because she was a terrible, cruel child, although that would have been a fitting reason but rather because they could not - there was no love to give. Of course the information that Howard had was incomplete, Erin lacked the personal understanding to truly and adequately explain it. She said that she could not feel; in truth it was very limited. She had the occasional, rare faint spark that she had earned through incredible and trying moment. It was not quite impossible, just what was within her was so distant and so far that the truth depth of emotion was always just outside of her reach. So she filled that hollow, like a vacuum with theirs. With people like Marcus and Sebastian, Thomas and Howard. It was more than a predatory nature, it was an instinct that drove her to sate this unrelenting, voracious hunger. It was not a power, but rather a natural law where areas of high concentration would be drawn to areas of low concentration and comparatively the young girl was an emotional void, she was drawn to people such as Howard.
Erin was far from unintelligent, she was cold and calculating. One would have thought that she would have sought what the dementors seemed to hunger for -- love and happiness. That she would take from and experience their joy, steal their light and make it her own. Such would be true if she knew happiness as more than a fleeting tease. People were incredibly unhappy. It was something sick and twisted about their natures, how they could be loved, need and want for nothing and still be miserable. How they always sought and yearned for more, gluttonous, envious and full of avarice. Happiness, like love is often feigned. Not that she had not felt it, but those moments of warmth and comfort were momentary. Happiness and love were not something she could purposefully elicit. Anger and spite, on the other hand, was something that she could force to the surface with ease. It filled that void with something. It made her no longer empty. It made her feel for such a brief time that she was alive. Howard had once proved to be the exception, she wondered if he remembered how he tried to defeat her with what... the power of his mother's love?
“Arghh.”
She would look over at Howard as he struggled to turn over. "Good, you're awake," she commented as if he was taking a nap on the couch and woke up in time for the half-time show. She would turn towards the bucket she had placed on the floor, out of the corner of her eye and she would watch Howard struggle to turn over. She had restrained him in haste, there was come concern that she should have tied him tighter, but thus far the bindings proved sufficient. "It would be quite dull had you remained asleep," she admitted as she took a rag from her bucket. "You're incredibly durable," she announced as she approached the sink and turned the water on. Unlike the abandoned bath where the water ran brown, the color she had grown accustomed to from these sinks, this water was white. It did not sputter or spurt as it came in a steady, strong stream. "Strong too," she added as she wet the rag, folding the cloth twice into a square.
“God damn you!”
Howard shouted, in this room his voice had a slight echo that would reverberate off the walls in an eerie way. "Afraid your God likely already has," she commented almost casually. "Again with the religious mythology, how muggle," she turned off the water and wrung the rag almost dry. "Did you get that from your mother?" It was always the mother with these boys, some sainted figure that was less than worthy but loved, admired or even worshiped by their progeny because of some abstract claim of love. "Let me tell you a secret darling, there aint no God because if there was... you would not be sitting there." She was walking towards him, rag in hand.
“Untie me!”
Howard demanded. Erin was standing next to him by this time. "You can ask your muggle God for aid," she offered as she knelt next to the thrashing youth.
“Arrrrrrh.”
He was making so much noise. Thomas seemed preoccupied, he had not come rushing in during the scuffle between the two of them. Perhaps the walls were well insulated. Well, either that or he was going to let nature and fate take their course. She was not particularly concerned with Thomas, between the two of them Howard was further along, or so she believed. Thomas was more likely to stand back and observe an altercation over becoming directly involved per her observations. Still, the Ravenclaws could enter, put an end to her game.
She threatened to gag him. She was not lying when she said that there was nothing here that he would want in his mouth but she did not warn him for his sake. No, she said such because the interaction would have been fully one-sided had she stuffed something in his mouth and what good was that? It seemed like the threat was enough for the moment, he had ceased his struggling for the time. If Howard was leaned onto his side or slouched over, she would reach for the collar of his shirt and pull him upright so that he was propped into a sitting position against the wall. Rag still in hand, she knelt down next to him and then brought one of her legs over both of his. She was not sitting on his lap, she was simply hovering over him, her knees planted on either side of his bound pair. She leaned forward. "Breathe through your mouth," Erin warned without any context as she placed the cold, damp rag over his nose, it covered his nares. "You would be a lot less fun dead... drowned in your own blood," she announced. The cold cloth would clean the blood some, not that she was a neat freak but the cold would also slow the blood loss.
“What do you want?”
"You," Erin answered simply. In really any other context, that might have been a nice thing to hear. Perhaps in a few years, said by a nice girl, that single word might have been considered romantic. That was not the case today - not here, not now. Not tied up on this bathroom floor, unless well of course Howard was into something erm… well, 'unique.' No fetish-shaming here.
Her fingers would pinch the bridge of his nose. "Take a deep breath," she instructed. She only gave a second's warning, long enough for him to take a breath had he chose to be compliant before her free hand would cup with mouth. No more shouting. With a sudden movement, she would shift his broken nose back into place, the crunch and grind sounding louder to Howard than it did to Erin. She had broken her fair share of noses and the broken leg she suffered in the library was not her first or would it be her last major fracture. She knew the routine -- keep the wounds clean and make sure that the bones set right.
Her hand would leave his mouth after the shouting or cussing ceased, had there been any. She would flip the rag, cold side down over his nose and continue to exert firm pressure. "But I will start with learning a bit more about you Howard," Erin offered as she returned to his previous question: what did she want? She would relinquish her grip on his nose after a few seconds, presuming that the bleeding had ceased. "Better," she announced as she relaxed her stiff stance over him and the back of her thighs rested on his legs.
She had taken his wand, it looked similar to her own, a bit longer than hers but she had a harder wood. They shared the same core. She pulled them both out of her waistband. "Your wand, it is similar to mine," Erin observed as she studied it for the first time in front of him. It felt smooth, she even thought she felt it shudder in response to her touch but that was likely her imagination. "Are you familiar with the significance of unicorn hair, the core we both share?" Of course he wasn't, a half muggle he would be lucky to know which wand he used to cast and which wand he used to piss with.
"Unicorn hair belongs to a wand that is loyal," she announced. "Like a Hufflepuff," she alleged. Hufflepuffs were not necessarily 'good' but they were consistent with who they allied themselves with or against. Her possession of the same core said something also about her nature and why it was not Thomas on the ground beneath her. A contract was made between Thomas and Erin, and while the sly snake might not have meant his words of allegiance, she meant hers. "The wood... echoes your loyal nature," she continued to lecture as her wandless hand reached up and her fingers combed through his hair (still a buzzcut or did it grow back in these months?) "Your wand resonates with what I see in you, from the storm of discontent. That dire, malicious wrath your opponents endure as a result of their offense against what is yours," if there was some length to his hair her fingers would grip the hair closer to the back of his head and she gave it a tug. "I must ask what is yours... so I might break it and be your enemy or make it my own so that you might be mine."
That was what she wanted.
Last edited by Erin Ryan on 3 Apr 2019, 01:55, edited 1 time in total.
Just a trick of the lighting they said...
Cleaning is for the Birds
Escaping was not an option. As made clear by the instructions on the Ravenclaw common room entrance, don’t allow students taking part in detention to leave until the job is done. If Thomas made the motion towards the entrance, it was likely a group of attention-starved Ravens would seize him in pursuit to gain favorability from the headmaster. Thomas was not going to escape this conflict. He could attempt to join Howard and Erin in the bathroom to even his playing field, give the Ravens three targets as opposed to one. Launching himself threw the window seemed more appealing.
He stood there a few feet apart with the older Raven, wands drawn and pointed at one another. If his new enemy wanted to harm him, he would have done it by now. Perhaps he was waiting for Thomas to make the first move. After all, claiming the Slytherin youth initiated the attack would sound far better when explaining the incident to their superiors. Enter a new Raven, and unlike many of the others, he did not appear starved for attention. No, he simply appeared starving. Perhaps he missed the early life lesson on the benefits of proper hygiene. As he approached, the bystanders would make room to allow him near the feuding pair of boys.
The older Raven lowered his wand, a relieving result for Thomas. He would not have a chance in a magic duel, he is far too early in his development as a wizard. He is no stranger to using his body to inflict pain, his physical past on ice skates has trained his ability to dish out punishment, and more importantly…to take it. The older Raven looked to the boy with the messy black hair, taking several steps back towards the windows. His emergence appeared to quiet the room, it was obvious this boy had an intriguing reputation, and clearly not a positive one.
"Am I supposed to kill you? Is that what we're doing?"
Thomas sheathed his wand and addressed the boy. “Come to stop the storm, have you?” A self-satisfied smirked formed, referencing the bizarre umbrella attached to his back. Though Thomas was largely outnumbered and likely the subject of the Ravenclaw rage for his part that led to the reconstruction of the library, Thomas would not back down. Best case scenario: The beating he was about to take would potentially save Thomas hours of cleaning while simultaneously taking short-breathed digs from the know-it-all milksops.
If this is just a house fight thing, then consider me excluded. I don't fight for ravenclaw. But otherwise, I have some time before I need to record again, and you don't look like you would take much time."
Thomas squared himself with the new boy, but not taking any steps forward. To his back was the previously referenced bookcase, much smaller than the ones in the library. He desperately wanted to use his strength to bring it crashing down on the common room floor, followed with a slick barb about the Ravenclaws lame attachment to books. Maybe then would his presence at this detention be justified. “I could care less about a house quarrel, I am here against my will as the maid for the day.” He spoke harshly and hastily, as if he had a speaking timer. “Oh, and I am not alone.” He gestured to the bathroom door that Erin and Howard entered several minutes ago. “My counterparts are in there, shall we fetch them?”
If the boy took exception to Thomas’ words and made an attack move toward him, he would readily grip the side end of the smallest bookcase behind him against the wall and attempt to send it crashing down. If he failed due to a lack of strength, he would begin taking books and hurling them in the direction of any hostile approaching Ravens. The book savior turned book menace.
He stood there a few feet apart with the older Raven, wands drawn and pointed at one another. If his new enemy wanted to harm him, he would have done it by now. Perhaps he was waiting for Thomas to make the first move. After all, claiming the Slytherin youth initiated the attack would sound far better when explaining the incident to their superiors. Enter a new Raven, and unlike many of the others, he did not appear starved for attention. No, he simply appeared starving. Perhaps he missed the early life lesson on the benefits of proper hygiene. As he approached, the bystanders would make room to allow him near the feuding pair of boys.
The older Raven lowered his wand, a relieving result for Thomas. He would not have a chance in a magic duel, he is far too early in his development as a wizard. He is no stranger to using his body to inflict pain, his physical past on ice skates has trained his ability to dish out punishment, and more importantly…to take it. The older Raven looked to the boy with the messy black hair, taking several steps back towards the windows. His emergence appeared to quiet the room, it was obvious this boy had an intriguing reputation, and clearly not a positive one.
"Am I supposed to kill you? Is that what we're doing?"
Thomas sheathed his wand and addressed the boy. “Come to stop the storm, have you?” A self-satisfied smirked formed, referencing the bizarre umbrella attached to his back. Though Thomas was largely outnumbered and likely the subject of the Ravenclaw rage for his part that led to the reconstruction of the library, Thomas would not back down. Best case scenario: The beating he was about to take would potentially save Thomas hours of cleaning while simultaneously taking short-breathed digs from the know-it-all milksops.
If this is just a house fight thing, then consider me excluded. I don't fight for ravenclaw. But otherwise, I have some time before I need to record again, and you don't look like you would take much time."
Thomas squared himself with the new boy, but not taking any steps forward. To his back was the previously referenced bookcase, much smaller than the ones in the library. He desperately wanted to use his strength to bring it crashing down on the common room floor, followed with a slick barb about the Ravenclaws lame attachment to books. Maybe then would his presence at this detention be justified. “I could care less about a house quarrel, I am here against my will as the maid for the day.” He spoke harshly and hastily, as if he had a speaking timer. “Oh, and I am not alone.” He gestured to the bathroom door that Erin and Howard entered several minutes ago. “My counterparts are in there, shall we fetch them?”
If the boy took exception to Thomas’ words and made an attack move toward him, he would readily grip the side end of the smallest bookcase behind him against the wall and attempt to send it crashing down. If he failed due to a lack of strength, he would begin taking books and hurling them in the direction of any hostile approaching Ravens. The book savior turned book menace.
We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be
Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 7 | Wisdom: 8 | ArcPower: 3 | Accuracy: 7
Ability - Evasive Maneuvers 2x
Cleaning is for the Birds
Come to stop the storm? The boy's eyes roved to the window, which was decidedly storm-free. It looked pretty good outside, in all honesty. So what was the boy talking about? Whatever it was, he would have to figure it out pretty soon, or eventually suffer the consequences that came with not understanding what very well could be a helpful tip. He followed it up by saying that he was here against his will, and that his counterparts were in the other room.
Counter meant against, right? Which meant his enemies were in the other room? Were they the ones that had forced him to be the maid for the day? What even was going on? Kaegen could feel himself becoming stressed as his brain ran circles to figure out what the scenario was. He clearly needed more information before he was able to make a decision, one way or another.
"Okay, but I'm not walking in front of you."
He stepped to the side, letting the boy pass, should he choose to do so. If the situation turned sour he wanted to be the one stabbing this guy in the back, not the other way around. It would be smart to figure out what was happening in the other room before he made the mistake of causing trouble in this one. And besides, he wasn't exactly on good terms with any of the ravenclaws, they would be just as likely, from his perspective, to help the slytherin as they would be to help him.
Counter meant against, right? Which meant his enemies were in the other room? Were they the ones that had forced him to be the maid for the day? What even was going on? Kaegen could feel himself becoming stressed as his brain ran circles to figure out what the scenario was. He clearly needed more information before he was able to make a decision, one way or another.
"Okay, but I'm not walking in front of you."
He stepped to the side, letting the boy pass, should he choose to do so. If the situation turned sour he wanted to be the one stabbing this guy in the back, not the other way around. It would be smart to figure out what was happening in the other room before he made the mistake of causing trouble in this one. And besides, he wasn't exactly on good terms with any of the ravenclaws, they would be just as likely, from his perspective, to help the slytherin as they would be to help him.
Shade-Beacon, Master of the Castle of Avarice