Closed An Overture to Survival OPEN

An Emotional Reunion with @AngelFyre McCubbin

@Evelynn Decipio, @Ulysses Drake

Significant Items: Camo Cloak, Wand

Emily was starting to get intimidated when a Slytherin boy arrived on scene. By his tone and the seemingly acquainted air he was projecting to the others, Emily felt he probably wasn't feeling the same friendly air from her even though she's being nothing but kind, albeit shy.

She was struggling to say something, feeling singled out more for being a stranger amongst this somewhat rag-tag group. She was almost tempted to leave and let these folks just carry on given that they were still suspicious of her. Or at least, a few of them seemed to be.

But then a saving grace arrived shortly after and Emily's self-conscious weight was lifted immediately.

AngelFyre!

Her beaming smile couldn't be restrained as her newfound Huffle-buddy approached them all. It almost felt like the universe sent her so that Emily wouldn't be alone anymore. So that was two favours she owed AngelFyre. Emily would never forget all she did when they first met back in the courtyard. And now, even if it was by random chance, AngelFyre was giving Emily relief just by being there in that moment.

Although the mood was quick to change when Emily noticed the lack of light-heartedness in AngelFyre's demeanour. She seemed more... Distracted? Concerned? It was a familiar emotion but Emily couldn't quite place it yet. That was until AngelFyre kept talking...

The Ball last year...? A student got hurt? And another one... What did she mean by "feral"?

"Your friend... Colin was it...? I hope he's okay... That sounds so sad with what happened..." Emily's big heart was stretching out to the students that she'd never even met before. Yet with the tragic story that AngelFyre was reciting, she wasn't ashamed to offer her love to them. Once again, the gentle soul was extending her metaphorical hands to those she now all of a sudden wanted to help.

It suddenly clicked in Emily that AngelFyre had a point: What if what they were learning wasn't enough? Emily wanted to befriend Half-Breeds and magical creatures yet all she had learnt so far was how to defend themselves from them. There didn't seem to be anything that could help her get closer to them as a friend, but instead keep them at arms length.

Naïve maybe, but then again... Emily did it all for love. She wanted to be everyone's shoulder to lean on, their hand to hold. Man or beast, it didn't matter to her. By the time AngelFyre finished her sombre story, Emily was fighting back the mistiness in her eyes. It was all so terrifying. Not at all what she would've expected within the Hogwarts walls, let alone across the grounds around the castle itself. And the talk of those students suffering was making her heart ache.

She blinked back her sadness and delivered a look of comfort and determination to her Hufflepuff associate.

"Maybe... It's time we found a way to truly protect each other... To stand with each other without fear," She said softly. "Because if there's a chance to properly spread love and protection amongst each other and those closest to us... Without viewing vulnerability as a weakness... Then I want to be one of those people to assist in that. I'm want to be everyone's friend... The same way I'd like to be all yours."

_{Word Count: 591}

Stats: Stamina: 6|Evasion: 5|Strength: 6|Wisdom: 7|Arcane Power: 5|Accuracy: 6
Abilities: Non-Human Enthusiast

Banner made by Ulysses Drake

⋄ May 23rd, 2024 | Grounds ⋄
⋄ Interactions: @Evelynn Decipio, @Ulysses Drake, @Emily Shephard, and @Astra Norrick | Mentions: @Finnegan Connor, @Pericles Dralt, and @Jack Warren⋄

"𝓞h! D'you mean the bag's enchanted, or the couch? Or both?" Her own book bag was a right mess, with whosits and whatsits absolutely falling out of it on a daily basis. If there was a way to remedy this problem of personality, whether through an enchanted bag or folding her belongings into teeny tiny little shapes, Bex was certainly interested.

As more people started to filter into to Evelynn's get-together, it was easy to dismiss a certain redhead - who'd tucked her most easily identifiable feature into a nondescript brown hoodie - as just another face in the crowd. Fairly certain from Evelynn's casual demeanor that the brunette first year - Emily, apparently, and she offered back a quick "Bex" in reply - wasn't a threat, her attention instead locked onto Ulysses, a boy she hadn't seen since Koko's pickup Quidditch game back in February. While they'd had no further interaction since, his manic energy had left a good impression on her, as had his skills as a beater partner. She nodded in greeting at him, a startled laugh escaping her in response to him referring to standing by a couch as "suspicious". "We're forming a coven." She joked, wiggling her fingers at him. "Witchcraft." And if the rumors had been true, then that was actually what they'd be doing. Well, most of them, at least.

As she listened to Evelynn's speech on why she'd arranged this for them, Bex couldn't help but shrink into herself just a little. She hadn't expected to be asked about the ball. She'd assumed that they'd just cast tarantallegra on each other for a few hours until someone passed out. The fact the Evelynn had attended almost every ball held during her tenure raised her respect for the fifth year even higher, considering what Pericles had told her about everything. She wasn't sure she herself could stomach it over and over again like that.

Uneager to start off the ball discussion herself, she deferred to the meeting's other attendees, taking note of how their experiences had differed from her own. Emily seemed to be having a rather nice time of it, and the bitter ache of jealousy that took root in her stomach left her feeling rather sour. It was no fault of the other first year's, of course, as she seemed nice enough. But it was just... hard. Hard hearing that it was possible to have a pleasant, enjoyable time at Hogwarts, and that Bex was just unlucky, inept, or both.

Ulysses apparently didn't have much to say about the ball at all, and was just here to- Her thoughts ground to a screeching halt, as Ulysses gestured to the girl in the brown hoodie, and called her out by name. Astra. Astra Norrick. Whatever was said by the group after this would be entirely lost on her, a whistling sound filling her ears as she found herself unable to look away from the girl who had stabbed Finnegan Connor.

She hadn't believed it, at first. That she could have done it. Not Astra, her tentative maybe-friend from the hospital wing. She thought they'd moved past it, the misunderstandings, the accusations, and the verbal - and in a couple cases, mildly physical - feuding. The idea of Astra attacking Finn had been inconceivable to her.

But so had the idea of Jack attacking Pear. She hadn't seen it coming, never in a million years. She still struggled to reconcile the funny boy who'd accidental glued his shoes to the wall with the monster who had taken his own wand and used it to gauge Pericles' eye out. How do you force two like magnetic poles together? They cannot coexist side-by-side for long; one or the other's got to give. Jack Warren was not who she thought he was. And in the aftermath of it all, Finnegan pointed the blame squarely at the redheaded girl who'd tried to tackle his friend at the ball. How could she do anything but believe him? Thus, she buried her own instincts screaming in the backyard, and accepted his truth as her own: Astra Norrick had done her damnedest to kill Finn that night, and had almost gotten away with it.

Her memories of that night came rushing back to her, causing her lungs to seize painfully.

The following are memories psychically projected to Evelynn through her wampus hair wand core. Feel free to skip over the reducio if you are not Evelynn, unless you're looking for a Bex-centric retelling of the ball's events.

Reducio

Finnegan's friend coming to greet him with a hug, only for Astra to rush the two out of nowhere, attempting to tackle the blond boy and getting knocked into the dirt for her trouble. Bex's confusion and worry for her sort-of friend, as she was able to recognize the signs of a panic attack easily from years of hard-won experience.

"Hey, Astra, it's okay. Do you know what box breathing is? I can show y-"

And then Finn screaming. Screaming, screaming, screaming. A sound she often heard repeated whenever she'd finally managed to fall asleep. What had happened? She didn't understand. The look on his face haunted her, a rabbit caught helplessly in a snare. Her own helplessness a cruel mimicry as she watched his hoodie soak through with blood. And she couldn't see it, couldn't do anything, the blond boy's stupid teddy bear in the way. She tried desperately and fruitlessly to pull it aside so she could see, so she could help- When she pulled her hands away, they were covered with what she now recognized as Finnegan's blood. In her dreams, they still were.

And then a snake, lunging at Finn and his friend before they disappeared into the smoke. The panic, clawing it's way out of her chest and up her throat, it's sickly, cloying sweetness overwhelming. She couldn't think, she couldn't breathe. She lunged in after them, desperate and searching.

And then the smoke had cleared and she'd done it, she'd pulled him out. She'd lifted up his hoodie to expose the wound underneath, desperately pressing her cape against it to try and stem the bleeding while they waited for help to arrive. His blood, cold and sticky on her hands, her clothes, her face. Finn, ghost-pale and sweating beneath her hands, writhing deliriously with pain. And the scene that replayed over and over again in her nightmares, superimposing itself seamlessly over the recurring one she'd been having since she was six. Finnegan, glassy-eyed and breathless, reaching out towards her with desperate, searching hands. "Don't leave me!"

Startled back to the present, Bex struggled to take in a heaving gasp of air, desperately hoping that no one around her had noticed her slip as she struggled to come back to herself. Her hand shot down shakily to her bag, intending to grab her beater's bat from where she'd stashed it that morning. For what, exactly, she couldn't have said. Good sense had left her at the first utterance of Astra's name. Instead of her bat, though, her wand pulsed warm under her hand. Like her duel with Raizel, and her first conversation with Jack, for one brief, impossible moment, she understood her wand completely. I can help you. I will protect you. Trust me. She clenched it in her hand and quietly slid it up her sleeve. She kept her eyes firmly pointed at Astra. Not yet. But ready.

Inventory: Beater's bat, antidote to uncommon poisons, ever-bashing boomerang

Interactions ❯❯ @ | @ | @
Mentions ❯❯ @Rebecca Lark | @Evelynn Decipio | @Astra Norrick | @Ulysses Drake

❂《 ⌜ May 23, 2024 ▎ --:-- ⌟

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This was new, finding herself so far that she ended up just near the edge of the infamous Forbidden Forest. Despite the temptation, it had never crossed Raizel's mind to take the risk of exploring the dark forest. It's not just because of the rules to never go into the Forbidden Forest but rather… it was more so because of the horrors within it. It would be unwise for her to not fear whatever creature lurks in there. Not to mention, she isn't ready for the danger, not in her current state.

She needed more than experience. She needed power and skills in which she found herself lacking, more powerful spells under her arsenals. She is starting to feel dissatisfied with just having advance spells, she wants more beyond it. How could she achieve it, that’s the question that she’s been trying to answer ever since she had dropped out dueling. She had been searching for new ways to improve herself. There’s broom racing but there has to be other ways that she hasn’t found yet.

Raizel let herself wander some more, only stopping once a group of people caught her attention. She moved closer, just enough for her to hear whatever they were talking about and to see who was among the crowd. A few familiar faces among them. The Ravenclaw girl who she still can’t remember the name of, her cousin Astra, Ulysses was it? The boy from the broom race and the unofficial Quidditch she joined. There were others but those were people that she barely knows. And then there’s Evelynn Decipio, an older student, Gryffindor duelist.

What was she doing here with a bunch of students? That she wondered until she heard her purpose which was enough for Raizel to frown. Don’t get her wrong though, she doesn’t hate her, she respects her and she’s not the type who would say no to learning ways of defending yourself from a talented duelist such as Evelynn Decipio. It was more of the fact that this very person was the same one who told her off after she tried stopping Zach from doing anything stupid or harmful to the ball, the same one who said not to hastily resort to spells, and the same one who told them that casting outside of class would earn them a detention.

Now this very same person is here, kind of doing what she had warned them to not do. Raizel leaned on a nearby tree with arms crossed. She was ticked off of course. What was the point of saying that to them when she herself doesn't follow it? Ridiculous, isn’t it? Kind of hypocritical if you ask her. If it wasn’t for that, she would’ve joined this gathering, march in there and perhaps even offer her assistance. Again, she won’t say no to learning more ways of defending yourself. But her annoyance was sort of pushing her away. For now, she’ll watch from a distance and then maybe leave after a while.

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⌜ An Overture to Survival ⌟ | ⌜ WC: 502/200 ⌟
««««« Dialogue | #800000

INVENTORY

Outfit Reducio

Items Reducio Enchanted Satchel Wand Potions: See Inventory

STATS AND ABILITIES STA: 6 | EVA: 7 | STR: 3 | WIS: 8 | ARC: 8 | ACC: 8 Prod. Charms | Perfectionist (crit fail chance -1)

Action Just watching from a distance

┏		┓
	Not only was the day ideal for lakeside lounging, or (apparently) a covert class in the woodline, but it was fine for flying too. The eagle's arrival was announced by a winged shadow, coasting through the beams of light that broke the canopy like golden pillars. Little local birds stopped their song once the larger "threat" swooped in. As he encircled the thicket, he glided counter-clockwise to keep its left eye turned towards the ground. The right had been replaced by a smooth silver ball, gleaming as it intermittently caught the sun. Pericles knew this clearing well. He and Eve's romps as animagi led them through it many times, and he would recognize those tree-rending claw marks anywhere. He was unsurprised to spot the shock of rich red below. Yet it wasn't Eve who he'd trailed into the trees, but Becca Lark. The animagus tended to avoid rumor mills, intentionally absorbed with his own going-ons, only tuning in to greater threats. Becca had no such qualms, and this nosiness made her a far keener snoop as a result. Recognizing her brunette curls as they disappeared into the treeline, the eagle coasted after, afraid she followed some siren song towards certain death. He could not have been happier to be wrong. Instead, he discovered Eve's covert rendezvous, gradually growing with participants. Few were familiar, though he did know Astra from the fall and spring balls alike, as well as a game of Exploding Snaps on her birthday. Turning his eye back on Eve, the bird loosed a few familiar chirps before alighting an overhead branch. Great gray wings tucked against a sleek white body, and there he perched, content to observe for the time being. He had arrived just in time to hear the tail end of her introductions. Pericles wagered Eve could handle herself, yet remained poised to assist. A surprising number of younger years had already gathered.
┗		┛

Being a watchbird.

⋖ 23/May/2024 @ late afternoon | OUTFIT | ENGLISH [#715380] | FRENCH [#b654a9] ⋗
INTERACTIONS @Emily Shephard @Rebecca Lark @Astra Norrick @Ulysses Drake @AngelFyre McCubbin | MENTIONING @Pericles Dralt @Raizel Voltrouz
───•─•────────────────────────────────────•─•───

To what would later, upon reflection, be Evelynn's mild surprise, there had been quite a gathering of students. Though Miss Emily, as she had introduced herself (Evelynn would have to determine her surname at a later time) had been the first quite by accident by all appearances, she had been far from the last. Miss Lark had followed, Evelynn dismissing her question about the enchanted nature of the couch and bag with a simple "both" at the time. Then had come the hooded girl. The lioness had given her a discerningly lingering look when her beckoning had been met with an almost fearful shake of her head. Then had come 'Uly'—Ulysses Drake, first year second string beater on the Slytherin quidditch team—with his less than friendly air and mutterings of suspicion. Evelynn had let the comments slide with little more than a sliding glance to Miss Lark, lips pursing (in disdain? or a withheld smirk?) at the sarcasm of her response. She had even caught sight of a couple slightly more senior students lingering initially on the peripheries, one of whom she recognized as Miss Valtrouz, the other as a hufflepuff whose name had escaped her in that moment. Whether there intentionally, or quite by accident, they had each given her their ears as she explained the—somewhat vague and as-yet-not-set-in-stone—purpose of the gathering, introduced herself, and posed her questions.

Towards the end of her speech, an eerie silence had befallen the clearing. Previously, the afternoon air had shared its stanzas with the breathing of the breeze and a chorus of songbirds as they flitted to and fro and serenaded each other. The latter was gone, though it may not have been apparent until those moments when nobody was speaking and the silence remained heavy in the absence of any ambient noise. Evelynn, of course, understood the source of that quiet. She had caught the chirp and rustle of a branch as something slightly heavier than a passerine disturbed the leaves and settled into the shadow of the canopy. A frequent flyer of this particular clearing, it was a wonder the little birds didn't know by now that the Eagle's arrival meant no threat to them. But they, unlike he, boasted no human-like sentience in their feathered forms, and could only do as instinct demanded, clearing out in the presence of an avian predator. Aware or not, he would receive no acknowledgement from Evelynn. Her attention, for the time being, was fixed on those who had stumbled into her clearing.

Emily was the first to take on the Gryffindor's armada of queries. "You are not disturbing," Evelynn attempted to reassure the girl, hands pulling behind her back to give an open and welcoming air. Regardless of whether a student had picked up on the rumors and made the decision to come or had stumbled upon them by happenstance, it made no difference to her. As far as she was concerned, the matters to be raised and ideally covered were those of which everyone should long ago have been made aware. In truth, the shadow of guilt still gnawed at her that she had not sought to do something like this long ago when perhaps it might have made a difference for those where it was not too late. And so she nodded, offering a smile as the girl introduced herself, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Emily. Go on."[/color]

With her encouragement, the girl had shared the myriad of subjects that had made for what was—miraculously—an apparently amazing experience for her. Evelynn's brows had lifted initially, not at all expecting such a positive reaction. Which, on its own likely should warrant some reflection in its own right. And as Miss Emily continued, the lioness' brows softened, a sort of melancholy falling to drape her features. Here in their midst was such a perfect representation of what should have been. The excitement and the eager sharing of all those things they found so marvelous. This was the expectation she'd had when she herself had first laid eyes upon the castle during her first crossing of the lake. When innocence was yet intact and no reason to fear had been presented. When the future was ripe with hope and possibility and dreams expanded endlessly with all that magic could offer. When simple survival wasn't a concern. Sweet summer child. Evelynn almost felt regret that such a unblemished impression of the school would have to be marred.

"The appreciation of life and the desire to safeguard others, especially those who cannot defend themselves, is a noble ambition." And it was. A bit shrouded in ignorance and good intentions, but still a heart-warming stand to take. "We are a social species. We cannot survive without each other, and yet in times of strife and fear, we have an inevitable tendency to withdraw and sever those social connections when they are most needed." Evelynn's gaze flickered over to Miss Lark, and the hooded girl, and the rest before returning to Miss Emily. "It is all the more necessary, then, for there to exist those like yourself who seek to reach out a hand to maintain those connections. But," her voice softened then as though preparing to deliver unfortunate news. "We cannot help others if we cannot first help ourselves. And, as a small aside, I would shy away from using the term half-breed. It is a bit derogatory and is not generally received well. Dhampir and werewolves and veela and all the rest are beings unto their own rights, just as you or I. To say the word half-breed suggests that for one, they are half one thing and half another, which simply is not correct; and for two, that they are something lesser or incomplete."

One of the older girls (AngelFyre) had approached then, with a look of resolution that yielded Evelynn's full attention. "You are just in time," came Evelynn's reply, politely dismissing the concern of tardiness much like she had done with Miss Emily's concern of disturbing. "Please," the open motion of the elder's hand towards the girl invited her to speak at her leisure, something about the way she was poised drawing the Gryffindor's curiosity. This girl was largely an unknown to her. She had seen the badger around plenty of times, especially at the various events in the company of Mister Kincaid, but had never directly interacted with her previously, nor overheard any information of interest. As far as she was aware, the girl was not heavily involved in the more nefarious aspects of the school, if indeed involved at all. It would be enlightening to hear the perspective of an unknown who had more than a single year's experience surviving at the school.

At the observations that their curriculum and the education delivered by their professors may simply not be what it is that they actually need, Evelynn tilted her head. And at the expressed desire to learn, nodded approvingly. All the moreso as the girl, who would only at the end introduce herself, transitioned to discuss the ball. While the details of the most recent one would go unsaid, lore would be shared regarding the autumn ball from the previous school year. The one that Lane had asked her to attend only to vanish. In lieu of that, she had elected not to go at all, and it remained one of the only one's she had missed. As a result, this information was all new to her, piquing her interest as very little had of late. The mention of a hag doll brought with it a series of memories, some at other balls, others in the crypts in the bowels of the lowest dungeons beneath the castle. One word in particular stood out as well. Feral. Memory of McCoire's wild white hair and wolf mask came to mind, and the suspicion that had grown over the years with various other clues settled into place for later consideration.

For now, Miss McCubbin's frustration at the lack of adult intervention elicited a sympathetic frown. "Unfortunately, that is only too often the case, the lack of adult presence. I was surprised to see Nurse Dusana, Professor Clairmont and Professor Sáez at the most recent ball. And all the more-so to see them intervene when conflict started to break out." Tempted though she might have been, she stopped short of sharing her mistrust of the professors. Those that were currently employed had done nothing to arouse her suspicions, and to bring attention to the inaction and misdeeds of those past could deter students from seeking help when they should. "Historically, that has not always been the case, as you have mentioned," she nudged her chin towards Miss McCubbin. "Hopefully we will continue to see their active presence at future events. Regardless, I would still encourage the use of such spells as Periculum. Even if an adult does not respond, there are those who will, and it brings attention that there is a problem of which to be made aware, allowing everyone within its view to prepare and better protect themselves."

Miss Emily seemed to feed off of that, continuing Evelynn's train of thought with that of her own, sharing that perhaps it was time to find a way to protect each other. Had Evelynn been of a state of mind to hear all that she had to say, agreement would have been the only response. That was, after all, exactly why the fifth-year had agreed to pursue this endeavor. Too long had she isolated herself from others, seeking to protect them from the shadows while leaving them ignorant of their own danger. Somehow, she'd thought herself to be doing them a favour, sparing the student body of what she'd thought to be unnecessary panic, desiring that they at least be able to enjoy their illusion of an enchanted education at Hogwarts. She'd come to learn only too profoundly just how jarring it was when that tapestry came crashing down and the truth could no longer be hidden by its embroidered fibers. Was it really kind, then, to have them realize they'd been ignorant the whole time? To be all the more traumatized when the fantasy died and they found themselves suddenly thrust headlong into the violent chaos disoriented and ill-prepared? It was better, she'd concluded, to let them have for-knowledge, to make their own decisions of where they went and what precautions they took, to keep their eyes peeled and ears perked. A disease could only be culled when the herd was inoculated, after all.

But the words spoken by the mouth of sweet innocence incarnate would largely go unheard. As Emily spoke, Evelynn's head was filled with the voices of others, the sounds of that very violence and chaos of which they all spoke. Lips parted slightly, her eyes drifting from the young brunette to fix on some spot in the forest far beyond the clearing's perimeter. They hazed, unfocused, as images as vivid as though she were seeing them transpire in real time, commanded her mind's eye. It was an expression that the keen-eyed eagle perched in one of the nearby trees had witnessed a couple of times prior to now. By the time she came to, rapid blinking moistening dry eyes, her chest rose and fell with increased frequency, lips parted as though she was just coming down from having run a mile. Quite accustomed to this sudden lapse of the present, Evelynn rapidly reoriented herself to the moment and offered Emily a warm smile to demonstrate appreciation for her commentary, but it was for Miss Lark that her figure would spin, eyes sweeping to pin down. The memory had been from her perspective.

She found the curly haired brunette standing there, struggling to gasp at the air, a shaky hand shooting down to her bag, her attention fixed on Miss Norrick. Miss Norrick, meanwhile, likewise had her gaze set on Miss Lark. Seeming unbalanced, she had staggered a couple paces towards the young Drake until righting her posture. Even from here, Evelynn could see the tears streaming down her face and the fear in her eyes. It clicked in that moment. Astra Norrick. Some of the rumors that had circulated after the ball had named an Astra as being responsible for the poor boy who'd been stabbed. There had been other rumors as well, and to Evelynn, the others had been the more plausible. But by the look shared between the girls now, Evelynn would have bet every galleon she had that it was to her that Rebecca ascribed blame.

"It wasn't her, Becca." In that moment, grief and understanding intertwined in the dulcet lilt of her voice and she discarded her abhorrence of contractions and nicknames to close that emotional gap. Her steps closed the physical one, hands lifting to rest on either of Miss Lark's shoulders, if she would allow, as Evelynn came to stand behind her. "Look at her." Although the lioness had poised herself in an effort to bestow comfort and a sense of protection for Miss Lark, her gaze had fixed itself upon Miss Norrick, eyes flecked with empathy. She knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of vitriol spat by the student body by gross misunderstanding. "She's terrified. If it was the terror of vengeance and being caught guilty, she would have kept to the shadows and slunk away, or put up a defiant front to protest her innocence. That is an expression of grief and self-doubt. Fear of judgment. Wrongful judgment."

Her eyes dropped to Miss Lark then, peering at the back of her head, her voice lowering, though not so low that the others wouldn't be able to hear. "Think about it. She held no knife." The memory had been clear enough on that, but Evelynn had the benefit of seeing it as a third-party. "And the angle of approach was all wrong. When you pulled back his shirt, it was a clean puncture. There was no gash to indicate a slashing exit of the blade. It could only have come from someone directly in front of him. From Athanatos. She did not inflict the wound upon Finnegan. Athanatos is not his friend."

Conviction and Courage with @Evelynn Decipio, @AngelFyre McCubbin, @Rebecca Lark and @Ulysses Drake

Briefly Mentioning @Astra Norrick

Significant Items: Camo Cloak, Wand

What started off as a harmless attempted wildlife trek to some questionable woods evolved into an accidental trespassing on a seemingly acquainted group of students. And now within a short time it had evolved yet again into what felt like an anticipated team of individuals looking for something; Vengeance? Protection? Knowledge? Emily couldn't quite pinpoint the exact feeling but it seemed everyone shared the same overarching idea, including her. Even if she was at the risk of being on the more innocent and naïve side of the spectrum her conviction felt no foreign to everyone else's as they all shared a look of desire - one that could only be projected when one was looking for justice.

Emily examined each of their expressions. AngelFyre's was now completely understandable after she shared her story, something that was still circling the walls in Emily's mind. It was almost as if Emily could feel the tinge of hurt within herself the longer she looked at her Huffle-buddy's troubled demeanour. She could never imagine what she'd seen on that day but just hearing about it was enough to make Emily swallow uneasily. She wanted to take her hand at that moment and squeeze it but surely that would feel like nothing compared to the memory that's undoubtedly stuck with her all this time.

The Ravenclaw girl - Rebecca her name was, Emily remembered - had one that could only project the need for retribution. Evelynn's outward statement certainly hinted at a bigger picture that Emily wasn't aware of, one that seemed to be so complex going by Evelynn's observations alone. Ulysses appeared to be aware of such as well. Eyes suddenly converged on another student nearby; another Slytherin, perhaps a little bit older. Emily knew not to poke the bear so often that it would bite back and kept quiet. By the mixture of glances between them alone, it was more than enough indication that there was tension between them - and she was sure that was putting it lightly.

Standoffs aside, it was suddenly made clear to Emily just how much she was turning away from, even if it was just by the sheer case of being lucky not to be caught in such tragedies. Now with the conflicting emotions across the rest of the party, Emily was starting to really open her eyes and ears to all the possibilities that could occur; simply because of magic and the uses behind them. The one thing she openly admitted to these people that she enjoyed. Almost as much as the thrill of discovering and the goal of befriending her non-human neighbours. And that was one wave of depression and anxiety that she didn't want to repeat for magic's sake.

On that note.

"I would shy away from using the term half-breed. It is a bit derogatory and is not generally received well. Dhampir and werewolves and veela and all the rest are beings unto their own rights, just as you or I. To say the word half-breed suggests that for one, they are half one thing and half another, which simply is not correct; and for two, that they are something lesser or incomplete."

"E-Eh!"Emily went red. "S-Sorry! I wasn't trying to- I just meant..." She sighed, Evelynn's graceful yet powerful words were sinking in. Emily had her brain practically drenched in books so often that she was a little too used to using textbook terminology. As she thought about it in that moment she realised how... Divisive it sounded. Evelynn had a point. Certainly not the term to use when Emily went on a full monologue about wanting to extend a friendly hand to such individuals when she had been unintentionally categorising them as something else. And that was even before dipping a toe into the conversations of books surrounding the discrimination of them detailed in the history books.

Emily quickly glanced away shyly before being able to compose herself again. She knew her heart and her head were on the same page though clearly on different ways of "thinking."

Way to kill the mood, Em... You tool...

She quickly got the conversation at hand back on track. "S-So uh... How do we go about acquiring the skills... or knowledge... or the power I guess... To be able to defend ourselves and each other? Assuming we're all looking for some kind of justice and the means to achieve it, that is..."

_{Word Count: 778}

Stats: Stamina: 6|Evasion: 5|Strength: 6|Wisdom: 7|Arcane Power: 5|Accuracy: 6
Abilities: Non-Human Enthusiast

Banner made by Ulysses Drake

⋄ May 23rd, 2024 | Grounds ⋄
⋄ Interactions: @Evelynn Decipio, @Astra Norrick, @Ulysses Drake, and @Pericles Dralt (unknowingly)
| Mentions: @Finnegan Connor and Gideon⋄

𝓐nger is a much easier emotion to manage than fear. Anger is simple and forthright: point a to point b, action and reaction. It was a blinding and all-consuming feeling, allowing you to shut out and ward yourself from the things you didn't want to see, didn't want to hear, didn't want to feel. The fear in someone's eyes or the sorrow, and especially how their twins could be found mirrored in your own expression. Inconvenient stimuli could be easily discarded with enough incentive, and Bex found herself to be very heavily incentivized.

Fear, though, was harder. Bex's instinctive response to it was always to shove down somewhere deep down inside of her, far past what her light could see, letting anger or adrenaline or whatever else she could get her hands on take its place, washing the taste of her gnawing anxiety off of her tongue. Anger could be a useful tool, but she found herself to be an inelegant wielder of it, the driven rather than the driver.

Astra Norrick was a helpless, cornered prey animal, and Bex could smell blood in the water. Whether Finn's blood or Astra's, it hardly felt like it mattered anymore.

The redheaded girl took a few tentative steps towards Ulysses before seeming to change course, instead turning to face Bex, spine straight and unyielding despite the terror in her eyes. It was a choice Bex might have respected if she wasn't so mad. Bex's breaths were coming out in panting wheezing gasps, and she couldn't tell if the ache in her chest or the one in stomach was worse. Her world narrowed down to just herself and Astra (and Ulysses as a very unfortunate and probably very uncomfortable bystander), and as such it took her a few moments for her brain to process Evelynn's intrusion. "It wasn't her, Becca." Addressing her as such was a move of extraordinary significance on Evelynn's part, but not one Bex was equipped to notice, let alone interpret.

It was the physical touch - two steady hands, one on each of her shoulders - that ultimately grounded her, and allowed her to start coming back to herself. At Evelynn's command she acquiesced, her eyes meeting Astra's once again. The problem with arguments of logos, though are that they require the party receiving your pleas to be capable of making their decisions based on logic in the first place. Bex understood the logistics of what Evelynn was telling her enough to know that Evelynn was likely right, about Astra and about all of it, but Bex wasn't stupid. She knew Astra hadn't had a knife. She'd been the one to help her up in the first place. But Bex no longer felt capable of trusting her own judgements or in being able to discern truth from fiction in her own recollections. Her gut instincts had failed her. In the absence of the unwavering, unquestioning credence in them she'd had before, she felt foolish and powerless, and just desperately wanted someone to blame. It was easier to take the judgement of others on as your own in the absence of faith, and Astra had made herself into an especially easy target.

"And there aren't any ways to make something look like something else? With magic? How am I supposed to just- to just believe that? She rushed him, for no reason. Astra, why did you tackle him?" She feels the first prickling of tears in her own eyes and angrily wipes them away. "I can't- I can't let it go because of some- because the puncture wound is- is wrong, or something. I can't. I trusted Astra, and she used that to get close. She tricked me. And if she didn't do it, then-" She feels herself crumbling, the weight of Evelynn's words pounding on stone until the levy broke, all her rage and terror coalescing into something ugly and sharp. She didn't know Finnegan's friend - Athanatos, apparently - but she knew Astra. "If Astra didn't do it, then that means I could'nt've done anything. What am I supposed to do next time it happens?"

The next time - when the Hogwarts Express derails from the tracks, or they're attacked by hag dolls, or they're drowned in the lake - what then? Pericles had told her that the worst thing that had ever happened to her had just been the most recent link in a never-ending chain. The idea of not only being expected to live through six more years of it, but to do so helpless to stop even the mildest horrors of this place was a fear too big to adequately see the edges of. It was far, far easier to be angry.

In all likelihood, she would not have been nearly composed enough to cast successfully in the first place. Perhaps her wand would have stepped in to aid in her defense, but there'd be no way to ever know. When she whipped her wand out of her sleeve and pointed it between Astra's eyes - see Evelynn, I am looking - she got as far as "Incen-" before her wand was snatched from her hand, leaving Bex baffled as to what she had witnessed.

Inventory: Beater's bat, antidote to uncommon poisons, ever-bashing boomerang
Permission for light godmodding granted by Astra and Pericles

Interacting with @Evelynn Decipio and @Rebecca Lark, mentioning Astra

┏		┓
	Losing an eye had forced the animagus to adjust in more ways than one. Yet with time and diligence, if a few bungled landings, he gradually regained his capacity for flight. It had done little to detract from how keen his remaining eye was, either. From his perch on high, he was capable of discerning Eve's particular expression: the familiarly parted lips, glazed eyes, a lapse in focus followed by quickened breaths and blinking. His head cocked at the sudden change of topic from survivalism, to addressing Becca. While the bird overlooked the initial tension between Becca and Astra (fixated on the instructor as he was), Eve seemingly miraculously connected the dots of blame, anxiety over accusation, and the rightful culprit. Another piece to that puzzle he hadn't yet realized he was putting together. Wampus core, spontaneous trances, an astonishing perception.... But Bex began brandishing her wand. Introspection shattered, replaced by the desire to prevent harm to Astra and- on some subconscious, heavily biased level- guilt in Becca. He didn't want her to do something in a panic she would come to regret. The eagle's posture shifted as enmity reared its ugly head, seeing him hunched in a vulturous way, tensed to swoop from his perch. Sea-eagles were anatomically built for snatching. While stealing a weapon was altogether different from grabbing a fish from the ocean, the animagus wagered the technicalities weren't so dissimilar. An opening presented itself. The raptor launched, kicking off of its branch, wings tucked in tight to divebomb. Before it could collide with the witchlet, they snapped open to act as a parachute. Wickedly curved talons extended, coiling around the walnut wand and wrenching it from her hand. Bex went untouched save a breeze as the air overhead was buffeted by stormy wings. The pale eagle careened towards Eve, only to halt his trajectory with a powerful backbeat, using the momentum of a sudden stop to release the wand. It tumbled tip over end into the Gryffindor's outstretched hand. Then the bird maneuvered in a half circle, spiraling into a graceful landing atop her right shoulder, mindful of its claws. A wide wingspan encircled her head like a gray half-halo. Turning its only eye on Becca, the eagle fixed her with an all too recognizable squint of disapproval. It was tempered only by understanding: she was anxious, and angry, and he could never possibly blame her for it. But he also knew she was better than this, with the potential to be stronger than her fears.
┗		┛

Stealing Bex's wand and bringing it to Eve (light godmoding okayed with both)

𝖑𝖎𝖈𝖐 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖗 𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖘 𝖈𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖇𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖊 u l y s s e s —d r a k e . ——— date. [ 05/23/24 ]—— word count. [ 388 ] ——————

This was not what he was expecting to stumble himself into as others joined whether with an eagerness to learn more or with intent to protect and ensure this could be a safe space for others. Clearly, Ulysses Drake lived within his own world as this was the first he's ever heard of the ball and Finnegan Connor getting stabbed (or not stabbed by) Astra. ' Serves him right. ' The thought bubbled to the surface of the first year's mind as a smirk slithered its way onto his tight features while his deep gaze swept the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest while hearing Evelyn speak, then Emily, followed by Becca. Well, at least now he knew the other's name. He felt pity for her; they were kindred spirits and Uly knew what the raging fires felt like and how it consumed everything in its path looking for the sweet, sweet relief of water's soothing touch.

He wouldn't indulge in her questions as an inept wizard himself, Uly hadn't the wherewithal or capacity to consider how deadly or misleading magic could be when even the simplest of casts failed him. " People are going to fail you, time and time again. What a shitty lesson to have to learn first hand. " That was as consoling as he could be in the moment until he heard the incantations begin from Becca's lips and Uly froze in the moment from the terror and fear.

a memory extracted for evelyn decipio from uly and finnegan's brawl at the spring broom racing stands.

Reducio

"Incendio!" Finnegan's wand work left to be desired, his incantation was slurred and nasally, but the effect seemed strangely improved by it. A bright burst of raging flames shot straight at Ulysses's expensive clothes, blue and red tongues lurching forward like striking serpents, the roar of flames loud enough to temporarily drown out any immediate bystanders. Revenge was best served scorchingly hot.

White, hot knuckles and a blood rage kept Ulysses putting the pressure against the second year until the Muggle found a second between the rhythm to cast and immediately set Ulysses ablaze, the flickered tongues licked at his form as his jacket caught ablaze first before his entire outfit was taken by the flame.

At first, his rage and anger kept him standing from the scorching pain as Ulysses quickly spun in sheer terror to toss his clothes lit off of his body to keep himself from burning alive. There was a moment where the heat felt nice as it singed the threads of his clothes and finally reached skin and Ulysses howled in immense pain.

Is this how dragons felt when hatching? Was this a rebirth of a most terrifying creature or would he fall and rise like a phoenix. Only time would tell but for now, Uly’s body collapsed to the floor unconscious from the smoke without any clothes on, gray ash falling with the snow as the tiff obnoxious and loud settled itself back down into a quiet hum.

The Halfblood with his crafty wandwork may have won the battle, but perhaps at what cost? Who knew what lengths a boy unhinged and riddled with vengeance would take to get even.

[thread link]

There was a moment where Ulysses flinched hard for those who may had not been distracted by the large winged monstrosity snatching the wand from Becca's fingertips. The scent of burning flesh returned flaring in his nostrils as the Slytherin let out a slight whimper in reminisce.

" You're pissed that Astra stabbed Finnegan and retaliated in the most cowardly way, trying to burn someone alive. " He spat out in rage as the man began to tremble slightly, something that even Uly didn't feel like he could control or he'd do something worse and let his anger consume him wholly.

" I'm out of here, Astra. All this isn't gonna help you at all. " Ulysses was quick to dismiss the others on what they were doing, deciding to step away and giving Astra a few moments to decide before disembarking before he felt the urge to meet flames with his fists.

ULYSSES DRAKE HAS LEFT THE THREAD.

—— mentions. @astra norrick, @emily shepherd, @evelyn decipio, @rebecca lark and @pericles dralt

—— notes. g'bye mwah