Closed Running Out of Patience PV Percival

Interacting with @Evelynn Decipio

The early morning walks, oh did he miss these so much. For a while, he had been confined to his quarters doing homework and revision in preparation for the up coming owls. In all honesty, Percival hadn't been doing much at all for the last few months. There were no events that piqued his interest, nor required him to show his face. It was very much as if he had turned into an urchin of sorts.

However, as of late, he was beginning to make himself more active once more. The morning walks and reading of the latest issue of the Daily Prophet was a good start, one that would hopefully snowball him into doing more things around Hogwarts like he used to. The only thing he didn't miss was the chaos the school brought with it. Being attacked by giant bees and hag slugs were almost a distant memory, hopefully, it was going to stay that for a little longer as he tried to figure out his surroundings. Percy knew the peace wouldn't last, it was only a matter of time till something happened...

Walking down the gravel path with the paper under his armpit, his mouth lightly released a calm whistling tune as he made the journey down to his spot on the great lake. The perfect weather was indicated by the amount of students who were out and about. Gray kept to himself and ignored any curious faces. Although, as he went deeper into the grounds with fewer people something began to catch his attention.

Slowly coming to a halt, Percy listened closely to what was around him. For a second he swore he heard a distant scream, and for a few moments, it seemed like he was hearing things. Just when he was about to continue, another scream erupted but closer this time. Dropping his paper to the floor the sweater wearing Slytherin pulled out his wand and ran as fast as he could down the path. There was no fear in his heart as he ran towards danger, after everything nothing could scare him now.

In the distance, he could see screaming lower years running towards him with all their worth. Closely behind them, tailed an angry mountain lion. Gray's eyes widened slightly from the sight of such an aggressive form but it didn't stop him from getting in the way. Skidding to a halt just after the lower years ran past him he raised his wand in a defensive stance.

"Enough!" Percy grunted with a cold stare into the beast's eyes "Control yourself before I drop you where you stand"

⋖ 28/Mar/2024 @ early morning | OUTFIT | ENGLISH [#715380] | FRENCH [#b654a9] ⋗
INTERACTIONS @Slytherin 1st-Year dNPCs, @Percival Gray | MENTIONING n/a
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Adrenaline coursed through her veins, grass disappearing at an alarming rate as she rushed over it. Two forms scampered ahead, hellbent on putting as much distance between themselves and her as they were able. There weren't. She was well over twice their speed, and while she hadn't tested it herself, literature suggested she could leap 30-45 feet horizontally. Had she wanted to catch them, they'd already be beneath the weight of her paws. Their screams were enough. Complete humiliation at having fumbled her warning cast had blunted somewhat on transformation.

It wasn't really something that was emphasized when learning how to complete the ritual, but while the mental capacity of the caster remained intact while in the animal form, emotions tended to be simplified, blunted. The concept of humiliation wasn't really one the mountain lion could fathom. Irritation, however, was. Everything she had felt at the moment of transformation had shifted, channeled into poignant anger. She had started the chase red hot, but every stride seemed to have deposited some of that heat to dissipate into the ground. Underlying excitement for the chase began to rise in contest. A game of cat and mouse had evolved, Evelynn bounding near enough to the boys to growl and snap at their heels, or swipe at their feet with soft paws that still had strength enough to see them trip and scramble in shrill panic to catch themselves before doubling their efforts to reach the castle.

Of course, it's all fun and games until someone loses an eye. Or so the saying would go. In this case, Evelynn would find what little consolation she'd found in the moment dashed by the interjection of someone who had no business interrupting.

From left stage, a familiar individual sprinted to place himself between herself and her quarry. Dark tousled locks would dance to frame his face as he skidded to a stop, falling into a stance she recognized immediately as resolved to serve as wall to protect the vermin who'd disappeared behind his silhouette. Muzzle pulled back to snarl, Evelynn found irritation spiking. Bold of him to assume his paltry appearance could stop her pursuit. Her pace didn't even falter, muscle coiling like a spring, releasing just in time to prevent herself running head-long into him. One second, he'd see the fast approaching form of a full-grown mountain lion. The next, its underbelly as it leapt over him. Six feet was a small hurdle when the creature could clear a fifteen foot vertical. She had every intention of leaving him in her dust, intent on chasing the two first-years right to the entrance of the tunnel bridge connecting courtyard to grounds. Were it not for the threat that caught her heels, she would have done just that.

Instead, Gray would see the great cat twist in its stride, claws digging deep grooves into the earth as she turned on the axis of that anchor. What was it about people thinking they could just enter a situation about which they knew nothing, and punish her for it? She was tired of being helpless. Of playing by the rules. She had filled the role of a dutiful and diligently lawful student for her entire career at Hogwarts so far. Where had it gotten her? What had it done for her? Not yet having completely gotten the grasp of existing as a feline, Evelynn found it exceptionally difficult to temper reactions. Despite muted emotions, she tended to swing from one extreme to the other. Irritation had shifted to excitement during the pursuit, but with the fifth-year Slytherin's arrival, the pendulum swung back the other way again.

As she spun on the spot, he would see rage glinting in her eyes and teeth bared as she launched herself again. This time, however, her trajectory would not be to sail over him, but rather taken him down. Her only intention would be to rough him up a little, anger seeking release. Of course, she didn't quite yet know her own strength. Trees could take—and had several times already—quite the beating. Flesh, not so much. If he didn't dodge out of the way, or in some way subdue her before she made contact, he would find himself struck at a decent velocity with 53kg of fur and teeth and claws, the lattermost of which would easily rend cloth to ribbons.

Interacting with @Evelynn Decipio

Gray prepared himself for her lunge and was about to utter the words for a spell. However, the huge cat would instead jump high above him and land safely with a look of anger ridden in her stare. In response, Percy took a few steps back and raised his wand back at the beast, defiant and unscared of what it could do to him. If anything he had to try and wear the beast until he was able to subdue.

If that required some force then so be it

Staring back at the cat with equal intensity Gray could only prepare for its inevitable attack "Fine, try it. I dare you..." he grunted back as they both circled each other. By now, the other students would have been able to escape and hopefully go find some help. The only issue with that was the fact it left Gray alone with an extremely angry cat and he didn't fancy having one of his new sweaters be ripped to shreds so early after purchasing.

As soon as they jolted forward, Percival jumped to the right and flicked his wand at the same time "Flipendo!" the Slytherin yelled as sharp claws were coming close to his arm. Just in time, his spell slammed into the side of the cat and sent her flying back across the dirt floor towards the treeline. Grimiancing slightly, Gray looked down and saw blood running down his arm from one of her claws catching against it.

It wasn't too deep, but the beast had drawn first blood "Why are you doing this?! what has driven you to attack defenseless lower years like a coward!" Percival bravely shouted at her with his free hand on the bleeding wound on his forearm. As long as she focused on him, that was all that mattered

"Now that you've done this, you've given me a reason to be nasty..."

⋖ 28/Mar/2024 @ early morning | OUTFIT | ENGLISH [#715380] | FRENCH [#b654a9] ⋗
INTERACTIONS @Percival Gray | MENTIONING n/a
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The downside of close proximity confrontation, Evelynn soon observed, was that it left very little room for maneuvering. While time wasn't exactly something that was given in great amounts between the time a spell was cast and when it landed, she was at least accustomed to a little bit of a head's up and opportunity to dodge out of the way. Such was not the case when one was within striking distance of a target, and airborne to boot. A heavy weight struck her ribs, eliciting a renewed growl. Trajectory changing abruptly midpounce, she grasped reflexively for anything upon which she might find purchase to keep herself in place. She wouldn't realize it at the time, but that something would turn out to be Gray's arm, lethally sharp claws raking easily through fiber and flesh without her even realizing it. Not that it did any good to alter her path.

Those who said cats always land on their feet did not account for sixteen year old girls learning to pilot an unfamiliar form. The lack of mastery would display itself plainly as the cougar landed in a heap some distance away, chest rumbling on the edge of a low yowl as she rolled, claws digging to rend tracks into the earth as she righted herself. Despite the distance Percival had managed to put between them, she heard his accusations loud and clear, and though their intent may have been to dissuade her from further action, they only served to fuel the flames of her ire. As far as she was concerned, he didn't know what he was talking about, had no right to interfere. Had he made use of those orbs in his head, he would have seen she wasn't attacking them. Only chasing.

Lips curled as he continued, a full snarl on display. Ears flattened against her head, a growl sounding in her throat as though with breath never-ending. Why did it always have to be that he seemed to turn up when she was in her foulest of moods. She circled, tail thrashing, fur puffed. Blood pounded in her head, fire coursing through her veins. It was difficult not to see red, not to feel anything other than the agitation and feeling of being threatened, the presence of the wand in the hands of someone actually moderately capable leaving her on edge. A wise individual might have let the words roll off their shoulder, left the scene and retreated to lick their wounds. Evelynn was smart. But she wasn't always wise, nor could she so easily turn her back on her wounded pride.

With everything that had happened, and all that she endured, she subconsciously craved an outlet, still not having properly processed her experiences and actively defying any healthy coping strategy given to her. She had tried to cover it, to deny it, to shove and bury the pain and loss and longing beneath ritualic pursuits and fleeting distractions and mountains of study. But they were fleeting and frivolous, prone to insufficiency and interruption, and when broken from her numbed trance, the compression released in unhealthy acts of lashing out. Normally, however, the targets retreated, denying her the continued use of turning them into unwilling recipients of her outburst. Every now and then, however, she would find equally venomous opposition, someone who chose to endure and absorb some of that excess wrath.

Against what should have been her better judgment, she ran forward again, eyes fixed on the wand and with every intent to snap that twig between her teeth if given half a chance.

Interacting with @Evelynn Decipio

Gray hesitantly took the bloodied hand away from the flesh wound and let it hang to his side. For now, he had to ignore the pain and keep focused. Lack of focus was going to bring serious harm, that's why he needed to stop things sooner rather than later. He had an idea in mind, but it required the beast to come in for another raging attack. The way it was looking she was going to do just that. Not at him, but at the very thing that was keeping him from getting torn to shreds.

Percival stood his ground and soon witnessed the beast run straight at him again, this time being more careful of those sharp teeth and claws. Waiting till the last minute, he'd wait till the cat had lunged before diving to his left into the hard ground below. Then with urgency, the Slytherin rolled to his back and aimed his wand at the angry Evelynn who was for sure going to jump at the chance to pin him down.

"Immbolus!"

Flicking his wand, he hoped to hit her square in the chest and stop her before she could sink those claws or teeth into his flesh. Keeping her still or immobilised was the easy part, it was a matter of calming her down which was going to be hard.

⋖ 28/Mar/2024 @ early morning | OUTFIT | ENGLISH [#715380] | FRENCH [#b654a9] ⋗
INTERACTIONS @Percival Gray | MENTIONING n/a
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With a speed capable of covering more than 20m in a single second, the auburn-pelted cougar rushed forward. A low snarl rumbled in its chest when the boy sought to dive out of the way, annoyance flaring at his dexterity. Slippery as a snake. But she was just as limber and her claws afforded better traction. Grooves marked the earth where she dug them in, turning on her axis to pounce after him. She found the wand pointed at her. His lips had uttered an incantation, and having processed meaning behind what he'd intended to cast, thought—for a split second—that he'd gotten the better of her. A flash of light erupted and struck her squarely in the chest mid-stride.

And she continued forward without hinderance. For all one's aptitude and cool-headedness, spell-casting can still prove to be a fickle endeavor. The slightest variation in enunciation, a stutter of a syllable of slurring of a word can prove its undoing. In this instance, Percival had made the error of stating Immbolus when he ought to have said Immobulus. He might, for a fleeting breath when the light first emerged from his wand, hold onto the hope that he would be safe from the gnashing teeth and swiping claws that could rend bark from trees as easily as flesh from the bone. But he would be mistaken. As the silver-eyed cougar pounced, that error could yet prove to be fatal.

The intended spell had barely left his tongue before 53 kg of furred fury landed on top of him. He had sacrificed his footing to cast his spell and he would not be given the opportunity to find his feet again. Forelimbs pressed him to the earth, paws curling around his own arms to pin them to his sides. Percival was fit, and in no way lacked in strength. In fact, the two beings likely weren't even in the same weight category, the wizard easily outclassing the feline by at least two stone, yet her strength would prove the greater. Not that there was time for him to consider that. The claws pressing into his scapula were the least of his concern as a gaping maw of deadly teeth clamped at the base of his neck.

Instinct told her to squeeze, to close her jaw until bones crunched beneath the pressure. The vertebrae would crush, the spinal column would sever, and then it would just be a matter of time before a diaphragm incapable of drawing breath left him oxygen starved. He would lose consciousness long before life trickled from his limbs, and all the while, it would be almost painless. It would be so easy.

Instead, he would only feel the rapid heaving of her respirations, ribcage expanding and contracting with every hot breath exhaled through her teeth onto his neck and shoulder. She had been seeing red, anger swift to flair when provoked, but like a dog chasing a car, she didn't know what to do with it once she caught it. The agitation began to ebb, the anger fading. As much as she had wanted to inject the fear of God into the boys, at no point had she wanted to do them damage. And as much as they had their differences, her opinion of him generally being that he was an uptight pureblood whose opinions were better left to the history books, hurting him would bring her no joy.

Rational thought began to settle in, the transition between animal ferocity and human restraint becoming more fluid with every transition. A raspy tongue pressed against his skin as she pushed him away, effectively spitting him out as she pulled her teeth off him without so much as broken skin. Then, assuming he didn't impede her attempt to do so, she would pull herself off him, releasing her hug of death and rising before hopping off him. In the wake of her outburst, guilt began to trickle into its absence, gaining traction when the scent of iron directed her attention to the blood on his arm. She couldn't recall having done that, but he'd certainly been whole before he'd intervened. Wavering between scampering off to leave him there and the risk of shedding her skin, she gambled with the repercussions of the latter.

Paws would reduce to slender hands, muscular bulk decrease to an athletic form, fur replace with the flowing black robes of a school uniform, and face flatten and shift into a familiar countenance framed by a familiar shock of vibrant auburn curls. Avoidant grey eyes directed themselves down and to the right, hands hanging at her sides. Her posture was stiff, her expression as though preparing to brace for an assault. Lips parted as though she was going to speak, but pressed themselves together without so much as a sound. She knew, this time, that even nobody had been gravely injured, she had crossed a line. Her stomach weighed with a thousand pounds of regret for who it was that had earned that misstep. If not because of the harm she'd almost caused him, but for the fact that she knew she would owe him an apology. But for the moment, she couldn't seem to say anything at all. Evidently, the cat had got her tongue.

Interacting with @Evelynn Decipio

Percival had all the confidence that his spell would strike true. Yet, something didn't sound right when the words came out of his mouth. The suspicion was only proven correct when nothing came out of his wand, and by the time he had seen the mistake the cat had already pounced on top of him to capitalise on the rare mistake he made. Gray barely stood a chance when the beast had forced their bodyweight into him and made him fall backward to the floor.

Now things have started to get concerning.

Struggling in its grip, he soon noticed his wand had rolled away from his grasp upon impact. The only thing he could do was try to punch or out strength the beast, but that thought was soon put to bed when her claws dug into his shoulders. Yelling loudly, Gray's eyes flicked to the open mouth of the cat and expected it to clamp down on his vulnerable neck at any moment. His breath quickened and his expression expected the worst when he could smell her breath against his face. However, when the pain or feeling of her teeth never happened he could only open his eyes and stare at what was going on in front of him.

Crawling back a few inches he watched the beast slowly turn back into a humanoid figure, one that he almost instantly recognised "Evelynn?" the Slytherin said in a gasp at first, his face showing a mixture of confusion and agony "What... what have you done!" he finally said with a raised voice and urgency to get to his feet. All this was being fuelled by adrenaline active by the sight of his blood flowing down his arm, as well as the puncture marks that were found in his new sweater. Without hesitation, he leaned down to grab her by the scruff of the shirt so he could roughly lift her into a standing position.

"What is wrong with you!?" Gray yelled in her face at first with a harsh shake "Do you know how much of a coward that makes you look hunting lower years Evelynn? How stupid can you fucking be!" he growled with no break in his cold stare at all.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't drag your sorry excuse for a Gryffindor to the lake and drown you. Because right now, I'm more than happy to take the risk of expulsion just to make you realise how much of an idiot you truly are!"

⋖ 28/Mar/2024 @ early morning | OUTFIT | ENGLISH [#715380] | FRENCH [#b654a9] ⋗
INTERACTIONS @Percival Gray| MENTIONING n/a
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For the briefest moment, as Gray uttered her name with more surprise than anything else, Evelynn almost let herself hope that perhaps it wouldn't actually be as bad as she was anticipating. Head still turned somewhat to the side, cloud gray eyes flicked over to meet ice blue. Her stomach dropped a rung. Crimson pulled her focus, the reminder of accidental injury sitting poorly in her gut. Maybe if she had her wand, she could heal the gash, repair the torn fibers of his sweater, and vanish any remnants of the blood and take her leave as though nothing had even happened. But before she even moved to reach for her boot, she was reminded that her wand had been thrown from her grip by her own ineptitude.

Brows knit themselves together, jaw tensing as the initial shock dissipated enough to give way to the rising torrent of the Slytherin's—regrettably reasonable—anger. She didn't reply to his first question. It was probably rhetorical anyway. As he rose to his feet, her gaze dropped with them, guilt and irritation juxtaposed upon her countenance, though fear slashed through it when his shadow loomed and a fist balled itself upon her shirt and she felt herself lifted to her feet. Hands clasped reflexively around his forearm. He came in close, too close, the hairs on the back of her neck rising to flag approaching danger. Any closer and she might be able to smell whatever he'd eaten that morning on his breath. Her head tilted back in a futile effort to place any distance between herself and he, as though that might spare her from the lashing volume of his shouts.

"What is wrong with you!?"

Flinching, eyes deviated once more to the side, refusing to meet his gaze. It was only a question, but somehow it bit like razors, several answers coming to mind, but none to tongue. I'm cursed. The notion that she was cursed was one that had been developing over the years, gaining traction as time and again, support was laid to its foundation with every disappearance, every death. There was something decidedly not right about it, about her. I'm hurting. Shadows had only grown over the past months, tendrils wrapping themselves about her, binding and suffocating. They chained her to the ground, leaving her heavy, making every action and obligation an impossible chore. I'm lost. Vision clouded, heart tainted, she had strayed in the darkness, lashing out at any provocation. But she was still there, but only barely. I'm broken. She knew there was something wrong with her. And to hear him say it... it felt like the descending blade of a guillotine.

"I wasn't hunting them," she murmured, hands falling from his forearm to hang loosely at her sides, pain turning to poison in her chest. "I was just—" She cut herself off, frowning, tensing and untensing her jaw, internally struggling. Part of her felt compelled to explain herself, to make it known that she had no real intention of hurting them. But she'd had no intention of hurting Gray either, and yet there was blood running down his arm all the same. And on the other hand, she really didn't have a good excuse. She could try to bite and say they started it, that they deserved whatever was coming to them. But deep down she knew that was a pathetic rationalization.

A shiver ran down her spine as the dark-haired youth continued, his growl reverberating to her core, leaving her feeling weak-kneed. Rather than douse her resolve, it only served to fuel her spite. Everything he said seemed to hit its mark, daggers cutting at what ribbons still remained of her pride and self-image. That small voice in the back of her head had already been saying much the same, but it was easy to quash it under layers of sorrow and twisted self-righteousness. But as much as she would have liked, she couldn't ignore him. His words twisted at her wounds, pulling at the strings of her self-loathing. Fingers curled to fists against her thighs, nails biting into her palms.

With the threat to drown her in the lake, though, she grit her teeth and finally turned to meet his gaze, doing her best to ignore the discomfort of finding herself having to actually look up at him. "Try it," she retorted, the first sign of defiance since she'd returned to her humanoid shape, "and I will actually bite you. By the looks of it, you don't have you wand to protect you this time. Not that it did much good anyway. It's Immobulus, not Immbolus." It was a cheap shot, but she didn't care. She simultaneously wanted to disappear into the earth beneath her feet and self-combust to burn Gray and the grounds surrounding them to ash. "Why are you even wasting your precious breath on me?" Vitriol continued to spit from her words, every second in his grip a bitter reminder of just how powerless she really was. "Go heal yourself and leave me alone."

Interacting with @Evelynn Decipio

At first, Evelynn didn't know what to do with herself as Percival said what he wanted to say straight to her face. She was guilty with all the chaos she had caused and for good reason, blood was still running down his arm and the first years she had chased were certainly going to be mentally scared from the encounter. He wanted her to regret everything that she had done, stupidity would not go without a receipt.

However, just when he felt like she would crack, Evelynn unexpectedly fired back with her own worthless defiance. Another threat? Was she seriously that stupid?! either way, the cocky behavior made the Slytherin bring out a wicked smirk "You're going to bite me huh?" he said with a cold mutter before suddenly pushing her hard to the floor. Percival stomped over and snatched his wand from the floor,instantly aiming down to the left of Evelynn

"Diffindo!"

A sickening slapping sound erupted into the air as the dirt beside her was marked with a long and deep cut. He wanted nothing more than to move the spell a few inches to the right, but Percival wasn't prepared to stoop to her level. Instead, the Slytherin placed a boot on her chest and pointed the wand back down to her face.

"Pick your next words wisely you stupid twat" Percvial grunted in between heavy breaths "If I don't hear some shred of remorse in your voice I'll be more than happy to "Immobulus" your sorry state and follow through with my thoughts"

"And trust me, healing my wounds will be the last thing on my list by that point"