”Productive...” Howard would repeat the word with skepticism. “I doubt it.” Erin was definitely a driven person. Put a goal in her mind and she’ll wreak havoc to achieve it, or die trying. However, productive is among the last words that most would use to describe her intentions. An agent of chaos indeed.

“Yes, yes. I know the fighting is your favorite, but let’s take in the moment first. Waiting makes it more fun.” Howard had known Erin long enough to know why she wanted the violence so badly. It was necessary for them both and the more she talked about it, the more desirable it became. The urge to release the anger was always with him. The ecstasy that followed was a mouth watering thought. Not to mention the steady flow of cheap liquor that was being washed down their throats. It’s debatable if alcohol is the reason for angry drunks or if it just strips away your inhibitions to reveal what is always there. In his case, it would be the latter. The ever burning furnace that lived in Howard’s gut would only be fueled by it.

Thomas’ entrance would provide temporary distraction. As always when the trio entered one another’s presence, the insults would begin to flow just as easily as the booze. Howard would just grin as the other two started their back and forth. He even offered Erin a compliment in their twisted friendship sort of way that drew some appreciation from the purple haired beauty. “Don’t get used to it, love.” Howard answered using one of her own tactics. Terms of endearment twisted into daggers.

Cards...as so simply put by Erin. The chosen form of entertainment for the evening. The game, Go Fish. A not so subtle look from Thomas would catch Howard’s eye. “What’s a matter. Too good for a classic? Besides, a simple game for simple company, yes?” He winked at Erin as he threw a dig, turning his attention back to her as she asked for further instruction. “Alright. Cards are dealt, dealer can go first. The goal of the game is to...” (OOC: to spare the needless dialogue, Howard explains the rules of Go Fish.) “Your first, Erin.”

Just as the game was beginning, two more people would make their entrance. Howard would half turn in his chair, one face was shrouded in robes, the other vaguely familiar. It was one of those punch first, ask questions later sort of mugs that belonged to Vladimir Atha-something or another. He did not know him well, but he had heard the whispers. Quite the reputation the boy was building for himself. Howard would simply nod and turn his attention back to the table.

Again, the flaps would flap and another would enter the scene. With an exaggerated eye roll, Howard turned to see a smaller boy enter. A face he couldn’t recall. Just as he was about to ignore the new entry, a word would catch his ear. Sister. “What?!” Howard called out as if the boy had used some offensive slur. His head snapped back and forth between Erin and Geoffrey. How could this be?! He surely had never met him, he could t ever remember Erin discussing him, but here he stood. Another Ryan. It was a bit silly that Howard was so shocked by this revelation. People had families after all, but his world just didn’t seem big enough for two. “A sibling, Erin? Gross.”

It wouldn’t take long for sickly looking creature to rub Howard the wrong way. The way the boy said Muggle was clear as day. Erin rarely touted her blood status. Usually more caught up in her psychosis than the purity of blood, but Howard knew the Ryan family considered themselves pure. “Aye...another one too good for simple entertainment.” Howard would begin the process of starting an argument, but Thomas would throw out a word that caught his ear. “Preferred? Speak for yourself Thomas. Go drink your tea, boy.” He dismissed Geoffrey with a wave of his hand. “Your turn, Erin.” Another tap of the claw.

Howard would explain the intricacies of Go Fish. A pretty basic game, match your cards. She had a pair in her hand, she would place them face down on the table. After that it was simply luck, remembering what others have called out and if you come upon the 'fish' that matches their call perhaps you would get lucky. It was a game of not only memorization but also manipulation wrapped in the pretty picture of a child's game. She nodded her head. She understood.

She would stop when Geoffrey entered the tent. "Hey bro," she would reply without turning towards him, his voice was enough really. "Well enough that dad let you out... good," she concluded. While she was not facing him, it was rather obvious she was monitoring the boy. Listening for the snap of the closures on his trunk, the creak of the hinges and the rustling of items being removed.

Thomas would simply refer to Geoffrey as the Preferred Ryan. A simple truth there, he was more palatable than Erin was. She was never one for social conformity, in fact she bucked against it. She also lacked in ways made her different, potentially dangerous. Who could blame him for having a preference, it was a truth she presumed. Home, abroad and most especially among her peers. "Don't sit near him," she was referring to Thomas' plea for rescue. "He has fleas," an upgrade from cooties perhaps but she was also calling him a mongrel in a round about way. She was indifferent to the duo that had also entered, far from the rumor mill that had created their infamous reputation she would get back to the game.

Well, try to in any case. It was a revelation to Howard that there were in fact two of them. "Yes, my father finds my mother hot," that was all there was to it. A physical relationship that ultimately resulted in the creation of herself and Geoffrey. Affection was not something that her parents considered often either. "It is amazing that it ended with just us," she added. In fact, it was likely that there were others, half-siblings at the very least scattered throughout the Scandinavian countries. There was nothing that bound their blood mother to their father and nothing besides blood that bound Erin to her mother.

The preference did not sit the same way with Howard of course, even if the statement was intended to antagonize Thomas or perhaps even Geoffrey, she caught it all the same. Geoffrey was not necessarily his favored between them, likely the nicest thing he had ever said to her. She did not say anything because she had no come back, she just fiddled with the cards and finally turned her head to look at Geoffrey. Unrolling his sleeping bag was temporarily the most fascinating thing that she ever saw.

That was until a claw tapping the worn surface of the table impatiently reminded her to get on with the game. "Hrm," she looked at the cards that remained in her hand. "No fishing yet?" She did not expect an answer as she re-verbalized the order of operations in her head. "Do you have..." she eyed Thomas and then Howard. Her eyes set on Howard, "any 7's?"

He did not. She would draw a 9 of hearts. A match for one of her other cards, the 9 of diamonds. That would leave her with 4 cards: the Ace of Hearts, the 7 of clubs, the 6 of hearts and the 2 of diamonds. She would likely think she was winning very briefly. Such successes in this game of course were short-lived.

Geoffrey chuckled at the words of the group as he unpacked his things. "My being there only hindered their schedule, they eventually gave in & permitted me to attend once more." he would say with a tone that did not hide his relief to be away from his parents. Erin knew the real reason as to why he'd not been there & why their Father would be so eager to return to his 'studies'. "Optimistic of you Lestrange, let's see if you're still of the same opinion when the trip is over." the sapphire eyed youth would say with a devilish grin. Erin's remarks on both Thomas & their parents relationship made the boy laugh.

Lestrange's sentiment was not shared by their peer, Erin seemed unbothered by either of the boys remarks. Geoffrey would turn to face their unnamed peer briefly, taking in his features & commiting them to memory. This one had a fire in him that made him curious about the individual. But Geoffrey was more interested in Lestrange. Wondering if he hoped to evoke jealousy in Erin at the thought of bonding. Perhaps he hoped a friendship with him would shield him from Erin. Whatever his motivation he would happily manipulate the situation to get what he desired. "I intend to eventually." was all he'd say to Howard, needing to learn more about the individual before deciding if poking the bear would yield effective results.

"I have no idea what you mean Lestrange. It seems your 'friend' doesn't either." he'd say with another smile before moving over to the wood for the fire. Grabbing some he'd take it over to the Pot Bellied stove & open it up placing some inside. Taking his wand from it's notch upon his belt he would point it at the wood & utter "Incendio." once the fire was lit he'd close the hatch. With that done he would place his wand back onto its notch in his belt. It seemed that Geoffrey was in fact going to make himself some Tea, true to the pompous cliche he portrayed himself. After all what better way to have people assume they know you & in turn underestimate you.

Even at such a young age in their youth. They knew what was expected of them due to their lineage. Pure-Blood, a foolish status built upon denial & lies. Geoffrey doubted any Wizarding family was truly Pure-Blooded. The Ryan children certainly weren't. The Part-Veela knew well what the truth could do to them & so they hid it. Although one couldn't deny there was something about the Ryan children that wasn't quite right.

@Erin Ryan @Thomas Lestrange @Howard White

@Erin Ryan @Thomas Lestrange @Geoffrey Ryan

Howard didn’t try to hide the snigger that escaped his lips as Erin continued to insult Thomas. A flea problem seemed to the younger boys latest diagnosis. He wasn’t quite sure when it happened, but a somewhat friendly banter had developed between the trio. Most would find it offensive or off putting, but it worked for them in a twisted way. Sure, there was no doubt that in certain circumstances the false friendship would crumble and the blows would reign down with a vengeance, but there was something about the familiarity that bonded them. Whether it be the shared experiences that brought them together, like a band of grizzled war vets sitting around telling stories, or perhaps their dark desires continued to align. Whatever the reason may be, it was nice for the loner Dhampir to socialize, not that he’d ever admit it.

Howard would just roll his eyes as Erin provided the explanation for her brothers existence. A simple answer, but a sufficient one. People often aren’t planned or born from love. His red eyes would squint in her brothers direction. No name was given, only brother and preferred, and he wasn’t about to ask. It was curious how different he seemed from Erin, not that all siblings are alike, but usually a small detail or two. Howard would find it impressive that his dismissive nature towards the brother was met head on and without hesitation. Perhaps there was more to him than just a snobby little brat.

Erin’s voice would draw him back to the game, sevens would be the request. “Ha! Go fish.” Howard called out before another swig from the bottle. The chest and belly were starting to feel warm, his head starting to buzz as the liquor filled his blood stream. The moment wouldn’t last long as Erin drew a matching card. “Shit.” Alright, his turn now, his eyes drifted between the two before falling on his cards. The pair of aces in his hand were tempting to build on. “Thomas, gimme them aces...shit!” He wouldn’t have any to give. Howard would draw a 9 of Clubs, no match! (OOC: did I do this right?)

The combination of a muggle card game and Erin’s mention of her parents' supposed attraction was enough to deter Thomas from consciously sitting in the presence of this group any longer. “No aces.” Thomas scanned his cards to see there were no aces in his hand for Howard. The boy quickly opted to prioritize a different game where he antagonized Erin. “Say, Erin” A smug smirk formed on his lips. “Have any Jacks’?” A self-amused chuckle escaped his lips, timing a sip from his flask before adding “Oh wait, I know the answer. You don’t.”

Thomas lifted his palms in the air, flinging all but one card to the center of the table in resignation. The boy rose from the table and found the truck at the end of his bed, unlocking it to retrieve a small bag with that was given to him by another boy after the ball. Within the bag was a pair of peculiar dolls and a vial of a dark substance. Thomas did not have enough experience to recognize the contents, but it did not matter. The action of returning these items was his only intention.

He would approach the older Ravenclaw, Vladimir, and set the bag on the boy’s bed with a short nod. There was nothing he felt the need to say, unless the older Raven addressed him.[No need to respond]. Turning away, he found a spot atop his bed, allowing his mind to steadily drift away from his present peers, back into the dark recesses of his mind. That is, until his eyes closed and he drifted to sleep. Though intermittently opening one eye to ensure Erin Ryan was not on her way to meddle.

And this is when things devolved back to the usual bickering. Howard and Erin had made a superficial effort to remain or at least appear civil but Thomas, like most things in his life, made no effort. In fact, he seemed to barrel towards destruction even when success and happiness was found on the clearest and easiest path. A mildly uncomfortable, perhaps dull card game would cease to be when Thomas antagonized the part Veela. He had found something that could get under her skin and he needled it at every passing opportunity.

With a frown, Erin placed her cards, a Jack not among them face up on the table. The impulsive thing to do here was to wipe the smirk off his face with her fist. Who was going to stop her? Howard? No, Thomas had not earned the dhampir's loyalty, had she, she would have been concerned. Howard was one of the few students, less Quinn she was not certain she could make meet Merlin if they came to blows. "Never takes long, does it," she exhaled.

The chair was pushed back by the backs of her knees as she stood up. She sought catharsis rather than victory, just not her own. Her eyes scanned the room, but her attention was on Thomas as he rifled through his luggage. There was an exchange between them, dolls and a phial filled with some sort of inky fluid. If Howard had something to say to her, she would lift a single index in front of his mouth and hope to not be bit before she pointed at Thomas' queer exchange. "Never thought you were the type to play with dolls," Erin prodded. She did not expect the comment to set him off, it was intended to draw attention to what he was doing.

What did Thomas value? Not much, he did not even value himself. He lacked pride. As far as she could tell he lacked true ambition. He was more an agent of chaos, his want was to unsettle the world around him, like a violent force of nature or a storm. A pretentious momma's boy, a trait he and Howard shared. Daddy, on the other hand was a sore spot not for one but for both of them. In a lot of ways they would be book ends. Sexuality? No, he was one of the few straight guys in Slytherin, there was no need for toxic masculinity. Appearance? Probably not, he was average by all relevant standards. If anything, he preferred the fact that he was not a stand out or a conformist.... he just was.

Of course that was it, his want was in line with that of the crone. His ambitions matched hers, they always had. It was what made him an easy target. She was at a disadvantage here, she was missing one key fact that would have altered her decisions moving forward. Vladimir and company were as far as she was concerned irrelevant. She had no idea that they were also associated with the very same coven Thomas had ingratiated himself with. So when she said, "hag dolls for the noobs," it was old news. She recognized the craftsmanship, the eerie similarities and the insidious nature that seemed to roll off the novelties like a dark miasma. Her words were intended to drive a wedge, create an awkward moment between them. Something for Thomas to explain. Force the reckless snake to divulge more than he intended. Screw with him.

She took another hearty swig from her bottle and stubble away from Thomas closer to Howard's side of the table. "Why are we sleeping with Thomas again?" She did not mean it like that, it totally came out wrong. She would realize it after she said it and let out a cough. "Sharing a damn tent," she self corrected with a grumble. "He is going to steal our blood or do some freaky ass shit when we fall asleep," she complained. She was not -that- concerned as she took another drink. At least she would probably not remember most of this week. She was a hypocrite of course, she had made her own contract with the hags as had Howard. Thomas was the only one she condemned.

The children were bickering. He paid them no heed. "This year is going to be better," Vladimir assured Victor. "Nobody is going to hurt us here and as long as you trust me, you will be safe," the Ravenclaw claimed. A statement of self-preservation, -they- would try to hurt him. Evidenced by his continued suffering. The use of -us-, a shared peril. Them against the rest, his only friend. "This summer we will..." his voice faded off. He had made no mistakes, he had taken careful inventory of his surroundings. Everything he said and done to this point was carefully orchestrated, this being no exception. "Rest," he gave his friend a thin smile. "Some Greek cooking, decent bedding, best physicians," he went on. Victor was becoming increasingly dependent on Vladimir in ways more basic than social. Victor was going to be living with Vladimir from here on, the best of friends. A gentle monster and a beautiful fiend.

Thomas would approach them, Vladimir would pay LeStrange no obvious heed. A Phial and some dolls placed among his things. The teen would give the oddity known best as the hag's pet snake a smirk.



A voice in the back of his head, it sounded civil and polite. Thank you. However he made no move beyond the smile. He continued to chat with Victor. "I heard Mr. Price visited you from my dad, that is real nice of him. He was always my favorite Professor, scary smart and insightful."

Victor looked smaller than usual, defeated and strange. His eyes looked dead but they had a queer glow, this unnatural green. No unearthly power seemed to exude from him, but the boy did not look like he should even be alive, never mind camping in a tent no matter how magical. "Just been a lot," Victor admitted. "I have no idea how I can ever thank you, I would be lost right now... sorta am," he confessed but his last words choked up as he watched the scuffle evolve between Erin and Thomas. Conflict never made him comfortable, but more than that he had this stupid notion of heroics. He would attempt to stand up, clear his throat. Say something but he decided otherwise. What could he do? Nothing. He let out a sigh.

"I would have preferred a private tent," he complained. The girl was pretty but the girl and her two friends? Enemies? It did not seem that they had much differentiation between the two for any of them. Incredibly toxic. He knew that a private tent was out of the question, this was the best that could be done, nobody wanted to share a tent with the deviants they were sharing a space under this canvas roof. What most considered too dangerous was ironically the 'safest place' possible for himself, Vlad and Marion.

They just left a bitter taste in his mouth.

I know this thread has been super slow this summer --

Howard, you might want to take a nap or be creepy. Insert montage. The hags need you sleeping to speak in your head.

@Erin Ryan @Thomas Lestrange @Geoffrey Ryan

”Bah!” Howard smacked his hand down on the table as he was forced to draw another card that matched none in his hand. He was hardly having any luck in the game which irked the boy’s competitive streak, but fortunately there was at least alcohol to help stomach the loss. The Dhampir would take another long pull off of the whiskey bottle, a little bit dribbling down his chin as the effects started to fully kick in. As tough and cool as Howard tried to be, the teenaged boy hardly had enough experience with alcohol to “hold his own.”

Glazed eyes would swim their way over to Thomas as he called for Erin’s attention, only to see a shower of cards flop onto the table as he quit the game. “What t-the hell man.” Howard protested with a bit of a stutter, but there was hardly any anger behind his words. In fact, a silly smile would come to his lips as he laid his cards down before leaning back in his chair. Cards were fun, but watching the Erin vs Thomas show was much more entertaining.

“It was b-bound to hap...” Howard began but was quickly cut off by Erin’s gesture. “Psh...w-whatever.” Another swig from from the bottle would replace his usually sharp comeback before he leaned forward and rested his head on his hand. Some scene would play out before him. Something about dolls and the two other weirdos they were sharing a tent with. Howard’s only response would be some very slow blinking before Erin returned to his side.

“What...” His expression would be one of confusion as his eyes slogged back and forth between her and Thomas. Howard surely wasn’t sleeping with Thomas, not that he wasn’t a good looking dude, but this particular Dhampir had his eyes on the ladies. Wait! Was Erin sleeping with Thomas?! “Dude...seriously?” Howard asked in a typical drunk voice that forces the octave to skyrocket, but Erin would quickly correct herself before continuing on about whatever weird shit she usually rambles about. “W-whatever...y’all fuckin’ boring.” His last statement before slumping forward to use one hand as a pillow as the other held the base of the whiskey bottle.

Turns out that Howard was a bit of a lightweight as would quickly drift off to drunken sleep. No harm done really...besides that it was much earlier than he usually rested.

Erin was not sleeping, she did not trust either of them. As Howard passed out drunk in his own bag at least and Thomas did what Thomas usually did, act like a petulant youth even when trying to go to bed. Erin sighed, her dissatisfaction with their tent obvious as she sat on her bag in the corner of the tent with a small flickering candle next to her. Her eyes felt heavy, she was in fact rather tired but she stubbornly kept herself awake. She would almost doze off a few times but would shake herself awake.

Of note, the two boys they were sharing the tent with had a third friend that did not enter until late. Two of them actually, some guy that seemed a bit too thin that she thought she might recognize. The other, a girl she thought. She found it notable that they slept near one another where Erin, Howard and Thomas tried to create as much physical distance as humanly possible from once another.

That was when things started to get weird.

There was no movement less the gentle rustle of cloth sleeping bags as the sleeping populous shifted through the night and the gentle snore like a metronome that filled the tent with white noise. It would be Howard, whose breathing briefly stopped. He would appear restless, distressed as if he was having a nightmare. It would take her a few moments to realize what was happening. She would be too late.

Howard would feel this oppressive weight on his chest, as if someone was standing on his breastbone. In truth, the sensation was accurate, something was standing on his chest making it hard for him to breathe. The lack of air would pull him partially from his slumber, to this limbo between the waking and the sleeping. His limbs would feel heavy and numb, as if they were not there less the knowledge that they were. It was as if he did not belong, as if he was in the wrong body and not given the means by which to control this form in which his spirit resided.

Howard's dreams of Serena or some other hot girl were interrupted. Flashes of a secondary vision would take over, as if someone was watching a television show and there was static interference obscuring the screen. Enough to half-rouse him, he would see what Erin and Thomas could not.A dark looming figure looking down at him. Their oppressive weight making it hard to breathe.

He would hear Erin's voice call out to him in a whisper. "Howard, you OK?" He would not be able to answer her. If he tried to speak or make a gesture, he would find himself incapable. Paralyzed.



A long, hook-like claw would brush the profile of the boy's face and he would feel the fingers move through his hair. A slight sting, he would not realize it but he had been scratched by the creatures dangerous touch. "There there my pretty... Go back to sleep..." An easier request than practice, it was hard for him to breathe. Howard's lungs would burn for a breath of air. A slight release of weight on his sternum was enough to grant him a singular gasping breath before the pressure returned. Howard, unlike Thomas had made a pact with a night hag and they came at night.

"They are coming. All around you. Trust none, or you will not survive." An ominous dream would overtake Howard's awareness but he never did relax enough to fall asleep.

The curtain would fall and then rise again and he would see a great structure on a mist-covered mountain, thousands of dark creatures circled above its slender spire. The scene shifts to inside, a dilapidated man cowering in the corner. Terrified, clawing away at the floor as he tried to flee from you. You look down, you realize that you are seeing this through the eyes of someone. Perhaps it is you, but you do not recognize the clothes. Well-tailored trousers and gleaming black shoes. A wand in hand, black wood, gnarled and unfamiliar but there is an ominous feeling that fills you as you gaze upon it for a brief moment.

The wand is raised, a flash of green blinds your vision and you blink for a moment too long. You know you performed a terrible, unforgivable act. When your eyes open in this dreamscape, you are alone in an endless darkness. After long moments, you spot a dimly lit corridor containing a
succession of seven locked gates. Through the bars you see a wide, desolate plain, and you watch helplessly as a great black rock the size of the moon hurtles out of the sky. It strikes the land with a world-shattering impact. A cloud of dust covers the sky, blocking the sun in what could only be described as an eternal night.

Sweat soaked, Howard awaken fully, these scenes of future doom still lingering in Howard's head. Frozen a moment after, the weight that pressed on Howard's breastbone was gone. The unseen fiend had departed, the only one who saw the dark and twisted features being Howard of course. Erin was still sitting on her sleeping bag Indian-style, the only thing she uttered not having seen the night terror that weighed on him she still recognized what had happened uttered "well shit man." She took a deep gulp from her bottle, swaying in her seat. She should have been worried more, but the liquor had left her slightly giddy and more stupid than usual. "Hard to fall asleep when you have a visitor," she commented with a yawn. She was struggling to stay awake, if Thomas was awake it would only steel her resolve to never sleep.

While the images he saw felt like hours, it was a matter of minutes.