The Unstoppable Force Vs the Immovable Object fin

When pushed to the precipice, there were no loyalties but to oneself. It was nothing more than human nature, but we find shame in that -- in self preservation as we hold the unattainable standard of heroism. Surviving was nothing to be ashamed of. 

Fear was ever-gripping. Fear of death. Fear of pain. Fear of loss. Fear of subjugation. Fear of rejection. There was always something to fear, because when everything was gained there would be everything to lose. It was what made us better. It was also what restrained us, this fear that prevents us from running head-long into danger yet propels them to action for fear of what might come if they failed to intervene. It is what tells us to run, saves us from pain and loss, staves off death, maintains our autonomy and forces us others to at least pretend to love us. Howard was no stranger to fear. He hated the very thing that forged him, that taught him that might means right. 

Their comely image was nothing more than a mirage, smoke and mirrors shattered through a tactile assessment. A wet paper bag. A soggy hunk of old, decomposing meat. His palm would meet their flesh, a slimy residue on his hand. It was not water, that much was for certain. Flobberworm mucus? That seemed more likely but there were no flobberworms present. They heeded his demand to only look, not touch. Yet he would feel molested all the same, their breath touched him and it was foul of rot and disease. 

“I seek the power to walk my own path. Even if I have to carve it out of this world myself.”

A low guffaw occupied their throats. Had he said something humorous? Yes, he had. "To cut. To carve. The etch and hack and divide..." A voice asked from the choking mist.

"With what? With your power? With force your of will? With fortune. through fear that sunders their defense wide..." A second voice chimed in.

A hand planted on the wall, in the direction of his attempted creeping egress. "But what," the mirage would fade and through the smoke and haze a withered hand planted inches from his face on that cold stone wall would meet his line of vision. Gnarled, twisted fingers and long, dark curved talons for for nails. Another hand would meet the other side of the youth an touch only the wall but so close to him he could feel the hear radiate from the monster's flesh. The illusion was gone, that comfort while meager was no longer afforded. He could not see it's features, not truly. Yet he could see the shadow of a hook nose, of a kyphotic carriage, of a breast that swayed closer to the naval, of pockmarked flesh, rife with blisters and sores. That was enough to know he would not want to see their visage well defined. "What ... are you willing ... to sacrifice?"

Nothing was free. Everything had a price. Rending his own path in this world would not be cheap. 

Howard’s breath came in sharp intakes as the sweat ran down his brow, dripping from his nose. With every breath came the foul, rotten stench of death. His hands fell to his side, one covered in some sick slime, the other loosely holding a wand.  His fingers wiggled against the handle of his weapon. The boy’s normal sense of brash behavior was being crushed by the fear. Howard was violent, angry and easily pushed over the edge, but he wasn’t stupid. The dark energies that radiated through the room were unlike any he had ever experienced. To strike out would mean death, that he was sure of. 

Squinting into the mist he would only see a shadow of the monster before him. The shapes of the woman before him would change in an instant. An arm would burst through the clouds towards him and for the briefest of moments the mist would part. The site before him was enough to turn his stomach. It’s flesh reflected the dull light of the room, shining as if covered in moisture. The sores and blisters seeped. Howard head would snap to the right as it’s hand planted against the wall beside him, the long dark talons scrapping against the wall. His hand moved towards his midsection.

“Blaaahh!” Howard vomited, the contents of his belly splashing at his feet. Another limb would shoot past him, dangerously close to his face. The heat that radiated of it wasn’t enough to burn, but enough to feel. Had he not just cleared his stomach, the stench would have. Howard’s eyes streamed as he dry heaved, gasping for air in between the coughs and sputters.  The creatures laughter filled the room. They called out in turn as they mocked him. The nausea that filled his guts would subside, replaced by the heat he knew so well. Yet again, as so many times before, Howard was being over powered. 

“Don’t fuckin laugh at me!” He called out, his voice much more shaky than he would have hoped for. His arm drug across his face, wiping away the sick on the sleeve of his robe. 

“But what? What...are you willing...to sacrifice?”

The creature surely had its own reason to ask such a question as it spun its web of darkness. However, it wouldn’t know that this question would be the one that would shape and mold this young boy’s entire future. It wouldn’t know that this very decision would be the one that pushed him down a path of no return. It wouldn’t know that the truth he was about to speak was what he had spent his entire life trying to hide.

“Everything...”

Howard was a madman but he was no fool. Anger, a thirst for power or at least a fear of being under the power of another drove him in ways simple desire and yearning alone never could. Howard was a creature of immense potential for both good and bad, one of those rare characters that not only stood on the precipice of change and ready to fall to either extreme but he was also relevant. It was what drew Erin to him in the first place -- the fact that he fucking shone like a floodlight in the dead of night. It was not good or bad and she did not care if it was, it was bright and she yearned for it. Something Howard would never comprehend, that someone was so desperate to feel something that they would seek to experience the world vicariously through another at their own personal detriment. To push another to their limit, the consequences irrelevant, just so she could catch the scent of their passion.

She could not even hate the fact that she envied him as she did or that he had what she could only yearn for.

That was where the hags came in of course. They gave her what she wanted, that ability to feel something. She had been under their influence for some time, over a year in fact. Hags like to make deals, the sorts of deals that often turn on the asker. The sort of deals that do not make the world a better place or a girl (or in Howard's case boy) a 'better' person. The embodiment of malice and discontent, that is what their efforts will almost always yield. It is their nature and faulting them for their dark and vile constitution would be like disparaging a spider for consuming a butterfly. She was going to die in this place, probably not today, she was too compliant and malleable to be their direct victim. Erin would be a victim of the consequences of her actions wrought from avarice and envy.

Howard was making a deal, little did he know, with three devils. 

"Then a bargain is struck," announced the one. "The power to walk your own path, at the cost of everything," one of the others added. 

"The mind--- the mind--- let me see those pretty eyes. Peer through your window and see," the grotesque creature pressed against Howard. He would feel something moist that squished but there was nothing there that should... squish. Withered, gnarled fingers before his eyes, the yellowed keratinous appendages would attempt to pull his eye open. She might look as if she was going to pull it out, the thought did in fact cross her mind. 

Some rare people are gifted with the power of sight. Did she see something there in his dark eyes? Yes. She saw a truth in him, his resolute desire for strength and power. His unyielding resolve. His ultimate descent. The crone saw it all. "You're going to be absolutely terrible my lovely boy..."

"What did you see?"

"What did you see!"

"Hunger and blood. An unending night. A boy who needs nothing from us because he will come to power on his own. Woe to his enemies and his friends," she propagandized. With a maddened laugh that seemed more for theatrics. "All he needs is a stone, he will call when he wishes to meat," there was an expression on her face so terribly close and foul to Howard's that seemed to indicate that she was the only one party to the joke. "But first--"

The hag would pull her hand away from Howard's face but linger uncomfortably close. "Sisters... I need the coins." While it did not sound particularly devious there was something unsettling about her request. "And a needle and a thread," she added. The future was known, at least to her as she relinquished her proximity, brushing herself off as if she was the one that might have contracted filth from the Hufflepuff. Her hand extended behind her, the jingle of coins could be heard as an exchange was made. 

Howard would see what she had accepted readily. a handful of silver coins, twenty of them to be exact. Also a needle that had a slight curve as well as a spool of thick, black thread. "A killer," she announced, "must pay the price for secrets to be kept." She handed him the twenty silver coins. They were not wizarding or muggle currency, they were something else.

This is a magic cursed item test I am working on, used in D&D games I have been a part of. This item is basically a cursed ritual that you are being taught by the hags for the purpose of keeping your violent actions (short of actual murder) a secret. A penny for your thoughts inverted here as it is compensation (IC but not OC) forced upon a victim to be unable to share the incidents surrounding the last hour of time with anyone. Obviously OC there needs to be an OC agreement between people and this would probably be a graphic RP considering there is actual sewing someone's mouth shut to complete this ritual. It is pretty gross, basically a hag's style. As for the downside of this, they would be aware of your impending transformation and your (likely) reckless newborn nature. They are endeavoring to allow you to keep your secret because they believe that you will become something terrible in coming years.

Can the 'curse' be broken. Yes, by the Runes Professor pretty easily if she is somehow made aware of what has happened which can be tricky considering the not being able to talk about it but there is the 'coin.' 

"But the stone."

"The stone!"

The sisters protested as if they were reminding her of something important. They in fact were. 

"Oh yes," she pulled a pair of pliers from the ragged dress she wore festooned with bones. "A stone," she repeated. "Your hand please?"

Howard had named his payment and the creatures accepted, the deal was struck. The boy pressed back against the wall, the uneven texture of the stone digging into his body. The monstrosity before followed suit, pressing its body against him. He turned his head away as the misshapened body squished against him, the softest of whimpers escaping his lips. Howard could do nothing to stop the feeling of dread that spread through him. His anger, his rage, his fight for power would all collapse under his fear. The room was stifling and the stench overwhelming. His breath came quick as his heart hammered and with every breath came the urge to vomit. Had the creature not pinned him to the wall, he very well may have fallen over as he became highly disoriented. 

A hand would touch his face, forcing him to look at it. A single yellow nail stretched out, landing just below his eye. Howard had no fight left, all he could do was submit. With a slight pressure the creature would draw his lid down, revealing his crystal blue eye. It happened and ended in a split second, just as his eye met the one before him. A flash of red. A sense of change. An overwhelming hunger. It was not a craving for food, or the yearning for power he had felt so many times. This hunger was unlike anything he had felt before. It felt unnatural...it felt inhuman. 

The creature released his face, but lingered before him, offering him no means of escape. The other two called out in excitement, inquiring what the other had seen. The leader spoke of an unending night and hunger. Howard would regain a little of his composure as his curiosity spiked. “You felt it too?” It was barely a whisper. A mad laugh erupted from her throat. She spoke of a stone, her expression turning particularly wicked, a shiver ran down the boy’s spine. Howard took in a deep breath as the creature moved away from him, every inch apart made him feel all the better. He straightened his posture as he attempted to wipe away the filth on his other robe sleeve. With a shrug he would let it fall off his back, no amount of soap or cleaning spells would be able to save it. 

The creature turned to her “sisters”, the request was confusing. Coins, needles and thread. They did nothing to hide their action as the other two brought forth a coin purse, the jingle of metal sounded through the room as they emptied it contents into the leaders hand. She would then hold them out to Howard, an offering. A wicked form of currency to pay for silence. The coins fell into his hand, he picked one up to examine it, the word INSPIRATION caught his eye. He looked up to see a second offering. Howard slid the coins into his pant pocket and reached out to accept the needle and thread. His brow would furrow, his eyes squinting in confusion. She must have read his expression as she explained the wicked process. A coin in the mouth, sew it closed...his secrets would be safe. Howard would miss the glint of glee in her eyes. He simply stared at the items in his hand. The potential was limitless. His eyes would return to hers, a flash of darkness rushed through them. “They won’t be able to speak of...my actions?”

The other two would cut him off, calling out for a stone. The leader seemed to remember something as she pulled pliers from her dress. She requested his hand. Howard pocketed the items and then pulled back the sleeve of his shirt, holding out his right hand towards her.

Hags are brokers of deals. More than that, hags never make good deals. Their deals often seem too good to be true on the surface because they always are. If Howard thought about it he would understand the drawback as there were several:

1. The hags were facilitating his violence and descent into madness. Once practiced and honed, Howard's dangerous nature would only bloom into something more terrible. Hags delight in such things.
2. While the victim might not be able to speak of the incident, it does not mean that the incident is forgotten. They simply cannot communicate that it happened without it becoming gibberish.
3. He has to perform an additional act of violence and dark magic to get such a reward. While his initial act might be out of hunger, rage or passion, it is a conceited effort to take a thread and sew someone's mouth closed.
4. Evidence of his dark magic would be easily identified by the Professors of this school. In the end, the hags are not out for Howard's well-being but rather the ultimate desecration of this school, of his nature and of those around him.

“They won’t be able to speak of...my actions?”

That was what Howard was focused on: the immediate boon.


"Yes"




She would rouse from her stupefied state, enough to hear the jingle of coins and the passage of thread. The words, however, seemed to be heard as if she was underwater. Rumbling, bubbling noises. She would not understand the explanation, the few words that she had heard would lack context so she would not understand the morbid use. She let out a groan and looked over at Howard and the hags. They looked like they should now, those twisted, wretched creatures. "The fuck?" Erin complained, her head was throbbing. What had happened during that intermission for the Slytherin? Nothing. It was like she had blinked her eyes a bit too long and instead of a second, a protracted period had passed. A spontaneous slumber. She was physically there but her mind was not.

"The hell are you doing?" 

Erin was hardly a wizard with her words. 

The hags were focused on Howard. One with a pair of aged pliers in her hand. Howard was not fighting back, his hand extended and the normally wrathful Hufflepuff was compliant. "Dude?" She must be confused, Erin reasoned.

"This will hurt," the hag warned as the ends of the pliers clamped down in the tip of his fingernail. Her other hand would wrap around the youth's wrist.

It was obvious what was about to transpire. "...Dude?" Erin repeated, her tone sharper. She had temporarily forgotten his name. 

The vice-like grip would tighten about the end of his nail and the hag would pull in a single, swift motion. There would be blood, this meaty, pulpy place where his fingernail once was. The humid dungeon air would sting. Clenched between the teeth of those pliers would be the bloody remnants of his nail that was pulled out by its root. 

"Fuck man!" Erin shouted. It was one of those grotesque moments that one instinctively tries to look away from but something forces one's gaze to remain fixed. 

The hags did not seem as troubled. This was merely a normal task to them, as mundane as sifting flour. The bit of flesh and blood would squish and smear between the hag's calloused fingers as she rubbed the keratinous bit back and forth between her fingertips. The blood and flesh smears and blackened with the filth from her body as the darkened flakes fell away. The vigorous rubbing would continue, there was this strange, low noise that would accompany her motions like a bit of sandpaper being run over a hunk of wood. 

It would take a few minutes. The other two hags would chant something in a language Erin did not recognize. "H-holy shit," Erin would stammer. The musky haze played with her head. "You said you wanted to--"





They interrupted. 

"I-I want us to leave," Erin demanded. "This was not the deal."

"Then leave."



The opening in the room in which they entered reformed. The fog would escape into the hall they had previously traveled and a gust of cool air could be felt. Erin would look at the opening in the wall. Erin would reach out for Howard, attempt to grab his arm or his sleeve. "Howard, let's go," her voice begged and she would attempt to yank at him if she had hold. In fact, she would attempt to drag him out.

"Howard," one of the hags repeated.




"Take your stone," the third ordered calmly. In her hand, between her fingers an off-white, small, flat stone that was once was Howard's fingernail. Flat but not quite translucent he would be able to see the flattened and smoothed nail if he brought it to the light.  

"Don't take any of their weird shit, goo--" Erin insisted.

"We will be in touch."

If Howard accepted the 'stone' the strange item that was once a part of him would feel alien. It thrummed with a strange power. 

"Sleep with it under your pillow, keep it in your pocket and tell it your secrets."

If asked why or what it does, the hag would shrug. If Howard was lingering or had accepted the 'stone' Erin would become increasingly insistent (can godmod a physical action as well) that they need to go, get away from them. 

Howard’s eyes flicked between the creatures as they sounded off answering his question. A rush of excitement tore through his body as his hand rested over the pocket he had placed the contents in. A chance to do as he wished and the power to silence those that stood in his way, or so he naively thought. He was blinded by his yearning for power as they spoke of the item’s power. Howard would fail to see the flaw in this bargain, that a deal with the devil never worked out. He stretched out his arm in compliance.

“The fuck?”

Howard’s head snapped to the side. He had all but forgotten that Erin was in the room with them. Whatever power had been placed over her seemed to have dissipated. He ignored her, turning his attention back to the creatures.  

“The hell are you doing?” She asked.

“Shut up!” He answered in a harsh whisper.

“This will hurt.” The creature warned.

Howard breathed deeply as the tip of the pliers clamped down on the nail of his index finger. The creature held onto his wrist, a vial look in its eyes.

“Dude?” Erin called out again.

“Shut the fuck up, Erin!” Howard’s eyes met with hers. A brief flash of anger before they bulged in shock. “Ahhhh!” He fell to his knees, his left hand clutching the right to his chest. Blood poured down his arm from the empty space where his nail once was, a strew of expletives utterred through clenched teeth. Howard looked up at the creature, his vision blurry as he blinked away the tears that pooled in his eyes. It rubbed the nail between its fingers, a look of indifference across its face. Several moments passed, how long too hard to tell as he gripped with the pain. He allowed his head to hang as Erin bickered with the creatures. 

“Then leave.” “Go.”

“Howard, Lets go!” A rush of cool air would enter the room as the wall that blocked the entrance dematerialized. Erin came to his side, pulling on the fabric of his shirt, urging him towards the door. Howard allowed her to pull him to his feet. The mission was accomplished. The boy had what he wanted and had paid the price for it. He wearily turned towards the exit, leaning hard against Erin for support as the toll of this night began to take full effect. His hand throbbed in pain, his stomach was empty and spun with nausea. “Get me the fuck outta here.” 

“Howard...take your stone.” The creature called after him. Howard turned on wobbly feet, stumbling slightly. His left hand stretched out to receive their offer, as Erin attempted to pull him back. 

“Don’t take any of their weird shit.” She protested. 

“I have to...” Mustering up the last of his strength, he pulled away from her. His hand wrapped around the small white stone that was presented to him. Howard’s hand jerked in response, like it would if being shocked with static electricity. What was once part of him, now twisted into some horror. He had no fight left. The boy stumbled backwards as Erin pulled him away and through the exit, his good arm slinging around her shoulders. The creature called out with instructions as the pair left.

This wretched bargain was struck. Howard made a deal that superficially cost him a few drops of blood, a temporary pain. Fleeting concerns for a the power they were handing to the Hufflepuff. The power to silence those that know his secrets. Obviously dark magic. Obviously cruel. He was compounding sin after sin, facilitating the fear and paranoia inside of him as his violent tendencies were being fed and facilitated.

Erin was befuddled but Howard was agitated. She tried to stop him, not that he would listen to her. Why would he? She led him here, handed him off to these old women. There was a change, a crisis of conscience but it was too late and not enough. They were not friends, 'tolerance' was in fact a stretch. 

A nail was ripped from Howard's fingertip. Did Howard scream? She did not even notice. Erin yelled, a sympathetic jolt of white-hot pain felt in her finger. Howard was floored. Erin reached out for him, her fingers gathering the cloth of the shirt he was wearing. She muttered exasperated profanities under her breath. There was even an apology muttered between the string of words. Shit-fuck-sorry-Merlin-damn... There was no logical order or priority to the words, she only half realized she was even talking.

She would yank Howard up, or at least help Howard stand on his own two feet. The Slytherin was exceptionally strong for her age. She was urging him to go and finally he was compliant, or at least ready to agree with her. It was likely the first and last time that was going to happen. It was her default to argue with Howard but in her haste to get them both away from whatever this was she just grabbed under his arm and braced herself for the much larger boy to burden her with whatever weight or unsteady gait her presence would have to account for. 

She had made a deal with them, of course she did but hers was nothing like his. She could feel her heart in her throat, it made the words she wanted to say hard to come out. The words she did not intend to say seemed to simply fall out like a stream of water. Whispered profanities laced with incredulous apologies. This was not how this was supposed to happen. This was not how this was supposed to work! She was shaking. The cool air symbolized freedom, normalcy, escape. Away from the stifling heat and the rancid scent. Away from this trio of women, this coven of crones. She took a step forward, her grip tightening on Howard as she physically urged him towards the exit. 

The crones called out to him, a final gift. Something that he should have refused. Something Howard would not refuse as he accepted the simple, clean bauble with a macabre origins. 

Don't --

Hag Stone

A strange, smooth stone made from keratin (fingernail) that looks like a simple, flat, smooth, grey stone one would find on the ground. Small holes, similar to swiss cheese. The appearance rather mundane, absolutely inert. However this stone did something. Gifts always have a reason and this is no exception. 

Effect: This is based on the one-way conversations you have. This stone is a means of communicating with the hags, but there will be no answer or indication of this IC for a few months. Something bad will happen to someone or something you talk about. (Basically this is based on the permissions I need to get from people.)

Howard snatched the stone from the hags. Erin did not call them hags, she was not that academically versed. She knew of them as crones, as old witches. She saw them as helpers and mentors, teachers. However, her interactions before today were different. There was no false images, needles and threads, coins, fingernails being ripped from their beds and returned as stones. It stank. They were weird. Not this weird. 

It was with an urgency that acquired a fresh grip on him. The puff was fucking mad. She should have known this, that was why she liked found him interesting. "Gooo~" She insisted, the perennial frustration that was often in her voice seemed amplified. He draped his arm over her shoulders, Erin's left hand gripped his waist and right secured his wrist in case he fell over. She was usually busier brawling with him than helping him to notice how much bigger he was than her. Fighting him was both brazen and dumb. Also something she would absolutely do again. 

Once they stumbled out of the room, Erin would take a deep breath and her lungs filled up with clean (or at least 'cleaner' air). She just wanted to forget what just happened a few minutes ago. "You're fucking cracked man," Erin complained barely noticing the fact that the stink seemed to dissipate. Had she looked back she would see that where that room once stood, where a bubbling cauldron and a trio of hags stood was no longer there. It was a stone wall, empty and plain. "Lets get you out of here, I know someone that can clean that up," she added. He was still bleeding. Bleeding on himself. Bleeding on Erin. She was talking about Arc, the Ravenclaw she had met during their (Howard and Erin's) last altercation. 

"Why did you let them?"

"Why didn't you run?"

"Why did they give you all that weird crap?"

She was not there, well she was there but only in body through most of the interaction between Howard and the hags. "I'm fucking sorry," she added. "So fucking sorry," she actually meant it. That was a change. In fact a lot of changes happened today, she had gotten what she wanted from the hags and she was already regretting her prize. She was scared. She felt guilty. She was feeling everything and it was like living in complete and utter darkness for her entire life and then walking outside for the first time on a bright, sunny day. It was overwhelming. It was painful. "Let's get you out of here," she repeated as she followed the passageways she knew by memory back to familiar halls.

The pair stumbled through the passageway. Howard leaned hard against her as his vision swam. Cool air would rush over his flesh as the crushing heat of the room was left behind. His right arm wrapped around her shoulders, she would clasp onto his wrist and hold his waist to support him. His left arm was clutched to his chest, the blood flowing freely from the empty nail bed. A grim scene really as it ran down his arm staining the front of his shirt. Howard coughed hard as the cleaner air filled his lungs and replaced the foul scented air of the creatures room. He stumbled to the side, his elbow shooting out instinctively to brace against the wall. “Gimme sec,” was all he was able to get out.

“You’re fucking cracked man.” She called out to him.

Maybe it was the trauma, or the slight loss in blood, but a slight grin would cross his face. He chuckled lightly even as he grimaced in pain. “Can’t argue with you there.”

“Let’s get you out of here, I know someone that can help clean that up.” She proposed.

Pushing off the wall with his elbow, he would again wrap his good arm around d her for support.  “Grrr...ok. Let’s go.” Howard agreed through grunts of pain. The pair hobbled off together down dungeon hallway. As they stumbled thier way back to safety, Erin would shoot off a tangent of questions. “Why did you let them? Why didn’t you run? Why did they give you all of that weird crap?” The usual tone in her voice was no where to be found. There was something there that he had never heard from her before. She actually sounded concerned and possibly a bit scared. Howard stopped their movement, stepping aside just enough to get a good look at her. As thier eyes met, he would see what he had heard. It was in her expression, the lines in her forehead scrunched, a faint spark in her eyes. The usual indifferent stare no where to be found. Howard would return her look with one of slight confusion. Her next words took him completely by surprise. “I’m fucking sorry, so fucking sorry.”

“Erin...get a grip. What’s the matter with you.” He squeezed her shoulder with his good hand, holding up his injured for her to see. “A small price to pay for such a reward.” His good hand would leave her shoulder to pat the pocket that held his “gifts”. “They won’t be able to stop me now...I’ll show you.” The pain was still very present, but the cool and clean air had cleared his head, only to be replaced by his dark impulses. If she looked, she would see it flash through his eyes.

“Let’s get you out of here.”

Howard would simply nod in agreement and resume walking with her.

Someone to patch Howard up.

Erin was thinking of Arc, the Ravenclaw that had dragged her out of the Ravenclaw bathroom after Howard had sliced her open. He was discreet, rumored to even be a Prefect these days, but she was not going to hold that against him. Arc was a true Ravenclaw from the little she knew, he was either in his common room resting or in the library studying she reasoned. She was strong enough to haul the Hufflepuff there if need be although she was not entirely sure what he could do for Howard.  

She apologized, not entirely sure of what else to say. She was selfish and she did something stupid, of course almost everything she did was narrow-minded and self-serving so this was no different but she did not really feel anything as a result. She did not care for this heavy sense she had in her gut or this ache she felt beneath her ribs. This desire for a redo, not because she lost or failed to get what she wanted but because she actually got what she wanted and desired a refund. It was exactly what she hoped for, but having what she wanted also 

“Erin...get a grip. What’s the matter with you.”

"What's the matter with you?" Erin snapped. "You're supposed to be mad at me. We're supposed to fight. You're supposed to get away and be fine or have the least of it," she complained, or accused... it was hard to tell with that girl. Typical Erin, somehow complaining about Howard regarding the mess she caused. 

“A small price to pay for such a reward.”

Erin teetered as Howard leaned over to pat his pocket as she grabbed hold of him in case he was about to fall over. How much butter beer did he drink? She wondered, he 'aint right. "What reward?" She grunted as she regained her/their equilibrium. "You have everything that anyone could have ever wanted," at least from her perspective. It was why she gave him such a hard time, sure part of it was because he could take it but part of it was also because she envied him. He was a capable caster, better than her although she would never admit it and silence any naysayer with her fists. He felt things, but not the way the average student does. Almost every last one of them was hollow, but he was and endless stream of passion. She let out a huff of air. "I wished I was you," she grumbled.

“They won’t be able to stop me now...I’ll show you.”

"You're talking crazy," Erin announced as they reached the base of a stone stair. "You must have hit your head or something, all this barmy talk. I will take you to the Ravenclaw," she did not know or at least remember Arc's name in that moment, her mind full of worms. Was this guilt or worry? She had not felt this feeling often before, she did not like it. 

There was no handrail on these stairs, the occasional chain nailed to the wall to grip if she had a free hand, which she did not as she led Howard up the stairs. Had anyone seen them, they might have thought the pair of them were friends less the blood that stained Howard's front or the frazzled look on Erin's face as her unruly amethyst tresses stood in every direction less their intended. "Whatever they gave you, is bad," Erin claimed, but who was she to talk having led him there for this very purpose? She had accepted their gifts herself just that day, she was being an absolute hypocrite.  

"You remember that nerd in the shitter?" She was referring to Arc as they ascended the stairs to reach the ground floor. She was breathing a bit heavy, this was tiresome work. "The one that dragged me out of our detention?" After Howard sliced her open. "I think he might be able to get you bandaged up real quiet-like at least," the last thing either of them needed was a bunch of adults up their asses. 

“What’s the matter with you?” Erin snapped in retort. “You’re supposed to be mad at me. We’re supposed to fight. You’re supposed to get away and be fine or have the least of it.”

This was how things usually went down between the two of them. Through countless encounters the pair always faced off, testing and pushing each other to their limits. Like some twisted dance Erin would move around and poke, Howard would thrash about and roar. However, it seemed that something had changed, or at least shifted. The experience with the creatures had unlocked something within the both of them. As tempting as it sounded to return to their usual ways, shared trauma has a way of connecting people. The pair had ventured down to the creatures together, both  paying dearly for the deals they had made. Whatever the future held for them, whatever price they still owed for their decisions, the two were connected in their path of darkness. One might say that their relationship had...evolved?

“Nothing is the matter with me,” he answered through a soft chuckle. His voice was hoarse and broke slightly, the adrenaline was wearing off as the effects of the night began to take their toll on him.  “Well, besides this.” He motioned towards his mangled hand with his eyes. “We can fight if you want. You might actually win this time.” Was this...friendly banter? “But something happened down there. I know you must have felt it to. They showed me something. I saw...no, felt a change coming. It’s hard to describe. Things will be completely different now.” His eyes closed as he searched for a way to describe it to her, but they wouldn’t come. He would however wobble on his feet and lean hard against her.

“What reward? You have everything that anyone could have ever wanted. I wished I was you.” She huffed as she lead them toward the stair well. Howard’s head cocked to the side as he gave her a quizzical look. It was bizarre how a few frightening moments could open people up. When you face a horror and come away standing, the facades slip away. It was the first time since meeting each other that they were having an actual conversation. Howard had felt the change that was coming to him, but he could also feel something had changed with her. It was just the slightest of difference. A slight spark in her usually dull eyes, an extra line across the forehead as her face became more expressive, a hint of feeling in her tone. 

“Is that what you ask for then? To be like me?” He asked with a smirk, his grip around her shoulders tightening as they moved up the stairs. “Go on...tell me. What did they give you? I can feel it, there is something different about you. Did they...try and fix you?” The last question would be accompanied with a meaningful look. Sure, their relationship had mostly been about dominance and violence, but through those shared moments Howard had seen her true nature. The emptiness in her eyes, the lifelessness in her voice. He had seen how she lashed out at others and reveled in their reaction. He knew that she was empty and yearned to be full.

“Whatever they gave you, is bad.” She warned.

His hand gently touched the fabric of his pocket again. Yes, it was bad. It would require him to access the deepest part of his darkness, to push aside any guilt or sense of wrongdoing so that he may facilitate whatever it was to come. “Yes...” his voice had a far away tone to it. “It’s a tool. I’m not sure when I’m supposed to use it, but I know it will help in the change to come. Others will try to stop me, this I felt for sure, and with these I will be able to silence them.” His eyes would darken as he spoke to himself just as much as he did Erin. 

“You remember that nerd in the shitter? The one that dragged me out of our detention?” Her words broke his train of thought.

“Yes...he spoiled our fun.” Howard answered quietly.

“I think he might be able to get you bandaged up real quiet like at least.” She suggested as the entered the ground floor of the castle.

“Good idea.” Howard agreed as he looked himself over. The pair looked a right mess. “Take me to him.”