Cleaning is for the Birds
Howard would feel it as he stumbled back a step. The sensation he yearned for coursed through his body. It would tingle down his arm, running through his hands and into his fingertips. The wood of his wand’s handle was warm and vibrated as the magical energies poured out of him and into his instrument. Howard breathed in deeply though his nose, his exhale would carry the notes of ecstasy that flowed through him. He wouldn’t have even needed to look to know the spell was a success, but look he did.
His eyes would meet Erin’s. Within them he could detect the mix of shock and pleasure, while she would see the flash of darkness within his. Howard’s crystal blue eyes would appear black as his pupils dilated in reaction to the power. They would follow Erin’s movements as her hand instinctively clutched her midsection. A thin line was torn through the materials of her blouse, behind it her belly was marked as if someone drew across it with a red marker. As her hand covered the injury, it would begin to seep. Howard breathed deeply as he watched the blood flow over her hand and trickle through her fingers. He stood there in awe at the sight before him, a slight shiver running up his spine as the moment passed.
The pupils shrunk, the tingle dissipated as his heart rate slowed to a normal pace. This was the moment when he should have looked at what he had done with horror. Anyone is capable of extreme things when pushed. A crime of passion they called it. However, this was not the case with one Howard White. She may have been the pusher man before as she latched onto the troubled innocent. She had cooked the stuff, loaded the needle and sat him down to give him his first shot. This was no longer the case. Like a true addict, all it took was a taste. She had unlocked his true nature. It had always been there. A beast that dwelled within him that wanted nothing more to roar and crush its prey. Howard wanted to stand over her...to watch her bleed...to watch her break.
“How I fucking envy you Howard White...” His eyes moved back up to meet hers. “You are easier than the class whore on prom night,” she would cast a look at Thomas. “And this is how you fix one such as Howard White.”
Howard took a step forward as he regained his footing, closing the gap between them. He would have to look down at her and she up at him as they stood almost toe to toe. His right hand would fall to his side, pointing his wand towards the ground. “It looks as if you are the one that needs fixing.” His free hand would reach out to prod the hand that covered her wound. His index and middle finger would come away wet with blood. Howard held them out in front of her face, rubbing them together with his thumb as his head cocked to the side. He spoke in a whisper. “I’m going to...”
FLUSH.
Howard’s long legs would take a step back as the door to the stall opened, the dark haired Raven emerged. “What have you done!?” He shouted as he scurried over to Erin, attempting to help her to the floor and apply pressure to the wound. “Are you alright? We need to put pressure on your wound to stop the bleeding. And we need to bring you to the medical wing, stat.” Howard simply stood and watched. The young Raven’s eyes would drift to Thomas. “You did that, too?”
“I haven’t touched Thomas.” His voice was raised, but he did not shout. “As for her. She’s gotten what she asked for.” Erin would know the deeper meanings of his words. He raised his arms out to the side and shrugged, gesturing a question. “So what now Erin? Shall we summon the Headmaster?” There would be no way to lie his way out of this, no way to cover the evidence or silence the witnesses. However, he knew Erin well. Howard would surely be expelled for his crimes. Was she ready for thier deadly dance to conclude?
His eyes would meet Erin’s. Within them he could detect the mix of shock and pleasure, while she would see the flash of darkness within his. Howard’s crystal blue eyes would appear black as his pupils dilated in reaction to the power. They would follow Erin’s movements as her hand instinctively clutched her midsection. A thin line was torn through the materials of her blouse, behind it her belly was marked as if someone drew across it with a red marker. As her hand covered the injury, it would begin to seep. Howard breathed deeply as he watched the blood flow over her hand and trickle through her fingers. He stood there in awe at the sight before him, a slight shiver running up his spine as the moment passed.
The pupils shrunk, the tingle dissipated as his heart rate slowed to a normal pace. This was the moment when he should have looked at what he had done with horror. Anyone is capable of extreme things when pushed. A crime of passion they called it. However, this was not the case with one Howard White. She may have been the pusher man before as she latched onto the troubled innocent. She had cooked the stuff, loaded the needle and sat him down to give him his first shot. This was no longer the case. Like a true addict, all it took was a taste. She had unlocked his true nature. It had always been there. A beast that dwelled within him that wanted nothing more to roar and crush its prey. Howard wanted to stand over her...to watch her bleed...to watch her break.
“How I fucking envy you Howard White...” His eyes moved back up to meet hers. “You are easier than the class whore on prom night,” she would cast a look at Thomas. “And this is how you fix one such as Howard White.”
Howard took a step forward as he regained his footing, closing the gap between them. He would have to look down at her and she up at him as they stood almost toe to toe. His right hand would fall to his side, pointing his wand towards the ground. “It looks as if you are the one that needs fixing.” His free hand would reach out to prod the hand that covered her wound. His index and middle finger would come away wet with blood. Howard held them out in front of her face, rubbing them together with his thumb as his head cocked to the side. He spoke in a whisper. “I’m going to...”
FLUSH.
Howard’s long legs would take a step back as the door to the stall opened, the dark haired Raven emerged. “What have you done!?” He shouted as he scurried over to Erin, attempting to help her to the floor and apply pressure to the wound. “Are you alright? We need to put pressure on your wound to stop the bleeding. And we need to bring you to the medical wing, stat.” Howard simply stood and watched. The young Raven’s eyes would drift to Thomas. “You did that, too?”
“I haven’t touched Thomas.” His voice was raised, but he did not shout. “As for her. She’s gotten what she asked for.” Erin would know the deeper meanings of his words. He raised his arms out to the side and shrugged, gesturing a question. “So what now Erin? Shall we summon the Headmaster?” There would be no way to lie his way out of this, no way to cover the evidence or silence the witnesses. However, he knew Erin well. Howard would surely be expelled for his crimes. Was she ready for thier deadly dance to conclude?
Cleaning is for the Birds
Curses start with poison and end in blood. Erin had put a curse on young Howard White, not the type where one needs an eye of newt and a tongue of frog but rather the type where the heart and the mind are addled, rotted away by dark intentions. It was part of her plan, one that needed to end in blood, her blood.
“It looks as if you are the one that needs fixing.”
He taunted as Erin put pressure on the open wound that bisected her stomach. She should be panicked right now, but that was her terrible weakness. She did not understand fear. She did not feel fear. One would have though that a fearless child, driven only by logic and ambition would be a dangerous entity. That much was true, but as evidenced by this moment such unfortunate creatures were also short-lived. Fear was necessary, it let you know when you should fight and when you should flee. The adrenaline that surges through one's body that extra bit of umph that might make the difference between victory and defeat.
"That is exactly what I am doing," she replied, the sting took a few extra moment to hit her brain. Searing white. She was almost there and she knew it, Howard's high was clouding her pain as endorphins replaced the anguish. Yes, Howard had issues. "Stop enjoying this like some weirdo," she snapped as she took a step back from the mad Hufflepuff. She could feel something pull and then rip. A gasp of pain and a fresh stream of crimson.
Howard would reach out and poke her blood-covered hand that failed to stymie the wound. She would swat at him as she took another step back. She understood the gravity of the situation, she even felt the madness that Howard felt. She was just waiting for that click. It was going to happen, right? Like the old broad said? She had to feel it again, she knew it was in there! Yes, she was trying to set him off and the fact that the lunatic might end up killing her seemed to be nothing more than a statistical possibility than something she was actively concerned with.
“I’m going to...”
Finish this! A deranged part of her screamed internally.
A rush of water, the rattle of a buckle, the upward movement of pants (for the love of god please), the unfortunate Ravenclaw would exit the stall to find a bloodbath. Erin was bleeding heavily, Howard looked like he was ready to kill her. Arc did not have a good sense of self-preservation as he rushed over to the girl that would have likely slipped on her own blood and fell to the floor. "Stop!" Erin protested as Arc eased her to the floor. She let out a pained hiss as she bent as her midsection.
“Are you alright? We need to put pressure on your wound to stop the bleeding. And we need to bring you to the medical wing, stat.”
The Ravenclaw was not wrong. "Ow!" She half-coughed, half-complained as his hand pressed against her abdomen. "I'm not fine, let him finish me." She was trying to get herself killed but it was far from a suicidal act. At least from her perspective. She needed to experience it again. That moment, that moment of pure terror was like unfiltered, unmitigated bliss to her. Something that was for once hers and not someone else's, not an echo or a shade of the first, the pure, and the true. Even pain and terror felt better than absolutely nothing.
“You did that, too?”
Arc was referring to Thomas. Erin had forgotten about the first year Slytherin. Erin looked over at Thomas. He was not moving. "Thomas, you idiot!" Erin snapped as she squirmed under Arc's pressure. "Yo, dork!" Thomas was not answering her. Why was he not answering? Oh God. "GetoffmeGetoffme!" She was yelling at Arc now. The hell was wrong with with that nerd? There was something inside of her, that moment... that spark she was chasing death to find. Her heartbeat had hastened, she tried to sit up, her palms planted on the floor and they slipped in a pool of blood beneath her. The cut did not hurt any longer, she was numb but not the numb she always felt. This numb was physical. Her mind was racing, it was getting harder to breathe. This was what panic felt like. She let out a shriek, the sort that you would imagine a banshee would cry.
“I haven’t touched Thomas.”
Howard claimed. Erin was gripping Arc's wrist, about to try to pull his palm off her midsection when she heard the assertion. She stopped her frantic resistance and went limp, her head facing Thomas' general direction. Did he just fall asleep on the bathroom floor like an exhausted puppy after a day of play? Holy crap, he probably did. "Damn goober Tommy," she complained. She felt relieved. That was a new one.
“As for her. She’s gotten what she asked for.”
She was not moving but she was conscious, even if she was paling and starting to sweat. She was not feeling so good. "I did," she confirmed. "Everything feels wet and gross now," she complained as she fumbled with her hands to find the site of her injury covered by Arc's hand. "This kinda sucks," she admitted.
“So what now Erin? Shall we summon the Headmaster?”
"I don't care..." her voice trailed off. The fear and panic had been drained from her much like the wave of relief that had followed. She was hollow again. She did not care about anything, nothing worried her, nothing made her happy or sad or scared. True sentiment was fleeting. She could not see what she was doing with her hands as she found the button nearest her neck and unfastened it clumsily before she searched for the one below. No, this was not some gross nude scene, she was a proper pure-blood unlike some people. She was wearing a camisole beneath. Less a single, blood-stained cut through the fabric across the stomach, she was covered. "This one is going to be infected," she complained. Injuries were nothing new to her, but her knowledge of medicine likely paled in comparison to the bookworm that was applying pressure to her wound.
"A bandage and stop whatever charm is making the room wiggle and I will be fine," she claimed. The room was made of jelly. She was pulling at her bloodied shirt, pinned beneath her weight upward. It was less than graceful but she did not have the same pride as some, she had enough other flaws. She would eventually claim a small victory, victory over a blouse that cost more galleons than most would earn in a week. It was already ruined.
“It looks as if you are the one that needs fixing.”
He taunted as Erin put pressure on the open wound that bisected her stomach. She should be panicked right now, but that was her terrible weakness. She did not understand fear. She did not feel fear. One would have though that a fearless child, driven only by logic and ambition would be a dangerous entity. That much was true, but as evidenced by this moment such unfortunate creatures were also short-lived. Fear was necessary, it let you know when you should fight and when you should flee. The adrenaline that surges through one's body that extra bit of umph that might make the difference between victory and defeat.
"That is exactly what I am doing," she replied, the sting took a few extra moment to hit her brain. Searing white. She was almost there and she knew it, Howard's high was clouding her pain as endorphins replaced the anguish. Yes, Howard had issues. "Stop enjoying this like some weirdo," she snapped as she took a step back from the mad Hufflepuff. She could feel something pull and then rip. A gasp of pain and a fresh stream of crimson.
Howard would reach out and poke her blood-covered hand that failed to stymie the wound. She would swat at him as she took another step back. She understood the gravity of the situation, she even felt the madness that Howard felt. She was just waiting for that click. It was going to happen, right? Like the old broad said? She had to feel it again, she knew it was in there! Yes, she was trying to set him off and the fact that the lunatic might end up killing her seemed to be nothing more than a statistical possibility than something she was actively concerned with.
“I’m going to...”
Finish this! A deranged part of her screamed internally.
--Flush--
A rush of water, the rattle of a buckle, the upward movement of pants (for the love of god please), the unfortunate Ravenclaw would exit the stall to find a bloodbath. Erin was bleeding heavily, Howard looked like he was ready to kill her. Arc did not have a good sense of self-preservation as he rushed over to the girl that would have likely slipped on her own blood and fell to the floor. "Stop!" Erin protested as Arc eased her to the floor. She let out a pained hiss as she bent as her midsection.
“Are you alright? We need to put pressure on your wound to stop the bleeding. And we need to bring you to the medical wing, stat.”
The Ravenclaw was not wrong. "Ow!" She half-coughed, half-complained as his hand pressed against her abdomen. "I'm not fine, let him finish me." She was trying to get herself killed but it was far from a suicidal act. At least from her perspective. She needed to experience it again. That moment, that moment of pure terror was like unfiltered, unmitigated bliss to her. Something that was for once hers and not someone else's, not an echo or a shade of the first, the pure, and the true. Even pain and terror felt better than absolutely nothing.
“You did that, too?”
Arc was referring to Thomas. Erin had forgotten about the first year Slytherin. Erin looked over at Thomas. He was not moving. "Thomas, you idiot!" Erin snapped as she squirmed under Arc's pressure. "Yo, dork!" Thomas was not answering her. Why was he not answering? Oh God. "GetoffmeGetoffme!" She was yelling at Arc now. The hell was wrong with with that nerd? There was something inside of her, that moment... that spark she was chasing death to find. Her heartbeat had hastened, she tried to sit up, her palms planted on the floor and they slipped in a pool of blood beneath her. The cut did not hurt any longer, she was numb but not the numb she always felt. This numb was physical. Her mind was racing, it was getting harder to breathe. This was what panic felt like. She let out a shriek, the sort that you would imagine a banshee would cry.
“I haven’t touched Thomas.”
Howard claimed. Erin was gripping Arc's wrist, about to try to pull his palm off her midsection when she heard the assertion. She stopped her frantic resistance and went limp, her head facing Thomas' general direction. Did he just fall asleep on the bathroom floor like an exhausted puppy after a day of play? Holy crap, he probably did. "Damn goober Tommy," she complained. She felt relieved. That was a new one.
“As for her. She’s gotten what she asked for.”
She was not moving but she was conscious, even if she was paling and starting to sweat. She was not feeling so good. "I did," she confirmed. "Everything feels wet and gross now," she complained as she fumbled with her hands to find the site of her injury covered by Arc's hand. "This kinda sucks," she admitted.
“So what now Erin? Shall we summon the Headmaster?”
"I don't care..." her voice trailed off. The fear and panic had been drained from her much like the wave of relief that had followed. She was hollow again. She did not care about anything, nothing worried her, nothing made her happy or sad or scared. True sentiment was fleeting. She could not see what she was doing with her hands as she found the button nearest her neck and unfastened it clumsily before she searched for the one below. No, this was not some gross nude scene, she was a proper pure-blood unlike some people. She was wearing a camisole beneath. Less a single, blood-stained cut through the fabric across the stomach, she was covered. "This one is going to be infected," she complained. Injuries were nothing new to her, but her knowledge of medicine likely paled in comparison to the bookworm that was applying pressure to her wound.
"A bandage and stop whatever charm is making the room wiggle and I will be fine," she claimed. The room was made of jelly. She was pulling at her bloodied shirt, pinned beneath her weight upward. It was less than graceful but she did not have the same pride as some, she had enough other flaws. She would eventually claim a small victory, victory over a blouse that cost more galleons than most would earn in a week. It was already ruined.
Just a trick of the lighting they said...
Cleaning is for the Birds
"Ow!" She half-coughed, half-complained as his hand pressed against her abdomen. "I'm not fine, let him finish me."
Wait. What? Let the dangerous boy finished her? Oh, no. Did she get hit in the head somewhere, too? There was no apparent bleeding or trauma, but it could be covered by her hair. Or…Was she losing her consciousness because of the bleeding? The wound must be worse than he first thought, then. If he wasn’t already, he truly was concerned about the girl now.
The purple-haired girl suddenly panicked when Arc mentioned about the other boy sprawling on the floor. "Yo, dork!" The boy was not answering her. "GetoffmeGetoffme!"
“I haven’t touched Thomas.” The bigger boy said.
Ah, so the sleeping boy’s name was Thomas? Arc couldn’t straight up believe the brown-haired boy, though. Why would the other boy just sleep in the floor like that if he wasn’t hurt or anything.
"Damn goober Tommy," said the green-eyed girl, sounding relieved.
“As for her. She’s gotten what she asked for.” Howard continued. Arc had heard the girl shouted his name before, but he wasn’t sure. And what kind of excuse was that?!
"I did," she confirmed. What?! "Everything feels wet and gross now," she tried to find the site of her injury covered by Arc's hand. "This kinda sucks.”
“So, what now Erin? Shall we summon the Headmaster?”
"I don't care...A bandage and stop whatever charm is making the room wiggle and I will be fine,"
“What? No! Whatever you two problem's was,” Arc looked at Howard or Howie or whoever he was called and looked back at the girl, his tone gradually rising, “you really need to get some help. A proper help. Not just a bandage and stop whatever charm that is making the room wiggle. First, there is no such charm. And secondly your blood loss is the problem, not the room!”
Arc could feel his adrenaline pumping and anger subtly rising. To whom he didn’t know. He wasn’t sure what was causing it as well. Either the girl reminded him of his little sister or his wounded big brother that was now forever crippled, whatever it was, it was a distraction. The boy didn’t need that in this kind of situation. And the girl had gone through enough and didn’t need any more of his lecture.
“Saving you,” said Arc to the girl, “her,” now he said to boy, “comes first. You can tell the headmaster whatever later. If you two don’t want to get in trouble about this, I could even keep my mouth shut. I won’t promise not to say anything if Professor Lear really force me, though.”
The dark-haired boy helped her undressed as he understood what she was trying to do. He would tie her clothes over her wound if she let him. It would be easier since part of her clothes was already under her and he didn’t need to pass the make-shift bandage under again.
“Keep the pressure on your stomach, would you?” Arc would ask.
He would try to lift her up in a princess carry with great effort before looking back at Howard, “Would you be so kind to help me bring the other boy? He might need some help as well.” Arc might need his help on carrying the girl all the way to medical wing, but he couldn’t really put his trust on him. He had to bear the weight on his own. Literally.
Who knew what he would do to the girl if Arc let him lay a finger on her again?
Wait. What? Let the dangerous boy finished her? Oh, no. Did she get hit in the head somewhere, too? There was no apparent bleeding or trauma, but it could be covered by her hair. Or…Was she losing her consciousness because of the bleeding? The wound must be worse than he first thought, then. If he wasn’t already, he truly was concerned about the girl now.
The purple-haired girl suddenly panicked when Arc mentioned about the other boy sprawling on the floor. "Yo, dork!" The boy was not answering her. "GetoffmeGetoffme!"
“I haven’t touched Thomas.” The bigger boy said.
Ah, so the sleeping boy’s name was Thomas? Arc couldn’t straight up believe the brown-haired boy, though. Why would the other boy just sleep in the floor like that if he wasn’t hurt or anything.
"Damn goober Tommy," said the green-eyed girl, sounding relieved.
“As for her. She’s gotten what she asked for.” Howard continued. Arc had heard the girl shouted his name before, but he wasn’t sure. And what kind of excuse was that?!
"I did," she confirmed. What?! "Everything feels wet and gross now," she tried to find the site of her injury covered by Arc's hand. "This kinda sucks.”
“So, what now Erin? Shall we summon the Headmaster?”
"I don't care...A bandage and stop whatever charm is making the room wiggle and I will be fine,"
“What? No! Whatever you two problem's was,” Arc looked at Howard or Howie or whoever he was called and looked back at the girl, his tone gradually rising, “you really need to get some help. A proper help. Not just a bandage and stop whatever charm that is making the room wiggle. First, there is no such charm. And secondly your blood loss is the problem, not the room!”
Arc could feel his adrenaline pumping and anger subtly rising. To whom he didn’t know. He wasn’t sure what was causing it as well. Either the girl reminded him of his little sister or his wounded big brother that was now forever crippled, whatever it was, it was a distraction. The boy didn’t need that in this kind of situation. And the girl had gone through enough and didn’t need any more of his lecture.
“Saving you,” said Arc to the girl, “her,” now he said to boy, “comes first. You can tell the headmaster whatever later. If you two don’t want to get in trouble about this, I could even keep my mouth shut. I won’t promise not to say anything if Professor Lear really force me, though.”
The dark-haired boy helped her undressed as he understood what she was trying to do. He would tie her clothes over her wound if she let him. It would be easier since part of her clothes was already under her and he didn’t need to pass the make-shift bandage under again.
“Keep the pressure on your stomach, would you?” Arc would ask.
He would try to lift her up in a princess carry with great effort before looking back at Howard, “Would you be so kind to help me bring the other boy? He might need some help as well.” Arc might need his help on carrying the girl all the way to medical wing, but he couldn’t really put his trust on him. He had to bear the weight on his own. Literally.
Who knew what he would do to the girl if Arc let him lay a finger on her again?
Strength: 2; Agility: 9; Control: 14; Stamina: 5
Cleaning is for the Birds
It looks like this thread died. =(
Close this thread for now I suppose.
Just a trick of the lighting they said...