Valentine's Tea Errand Finished

Interacting With: @Teiki Laurent

Interacting with @Logan Baird

19. WHAT KIND OF BOOKS DO YOU LIKE TO READ?

Is she on the road to self-improvement and solely reads to better herself and her career, or does she read for pleasure? Get into a conversation about what inspires her. "This is a good way to know what her intellectual interests and passions are," Sullivan says.

Interacting with: @Erin Ryan, @Quinn Healy, & @Olphie Bercegeay
Mentioning: @Persephone Barret, @Opeila Seilun, @Rafael D'Spacito, @Ruka Tân, & @Nico Shymane

When Quinn released both first years upon being bitten, the Slytherin boy stumbled a bit as he tried to regain his balance, but was aware enough to search for the source of the disturbance. Persephone again. Was it an adrenaline rush that was driving her so? Why was she just digging herself a deeper hole?

Jack was about to ask the half-giant how badly he'd been hurt, but he was distracted by a couple of new developments. Nico, for one, stepped up to give Persephone a very direct piece of her mind, the red points in the Slytherin prefect's eyes appearing again as Jack had once witnessed in the Great Hall. He wasn't able to focus too much on the coral-haired dhampir's words and display, however, due to the second distraction to show up - one with familiar purple hair.

"E...erin?" Jack murmured feebly as he recognized a voice through the haze of his fatigue. With a tired sniff, he wiped his stained face on the back of his hand and robes. She seemed to be saying something to Quinn about 'taking her out of here' - Persephone, presumably. All at once, she was yelling at Jack about 'a blonde' and 'perverted crap' and 'starting a fight' and 'why weren't you pulling that on me'. In spite of everything, Jack couldn't help a bitter laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

Before he could formulate the words to answer Erin, Quinn was expressing his own surprise at the fact that Jack seemed to know the Slytherin third-year. The first-year redhead cast him a small, wry smile. "I'll...I'll explain later, Healy," he told the upperclassman. "If you still want to know later, that is. And...I'm glad you weren't too badly hurt." He hadn't been able to help overhearing the assurance meant for Nico, but Jack was sincerely grateful for it. It wasn't fair for someone who only meant to keep the peace to be harmed themselves in doing so.

Once more strangely comforted by the strong grip on his shoulder (though again, that was probably not the intended purpose in it being there), Jack turned his attention back to Erin. "You have nothing to worry about," he said to her with a grim smirk. "I was just...overcome by my rage for a moment." Said smirk fell as he stared at the ground and recalled his humiliating lapse in judgment. "I...all I could think about was wanting to beat her until she either apologized for what she did or she was knocked out..." He looked up at Erin again as he tried to smile once more, pain and weariness etched in his features. "...Is this what it's like to hate someone?"

That was when Professor Bercegeay finally decided to intervene, cutting through the whole ruckus with a very loud, 'ENOUGH'. Jack blinked rapidly, having temporarily forgot that there was a teacher in charge of the whole pink nightmare, but was soon reminded as she began to issue orders to several students at the heart of the conflict involving Persephone, including himself.

'Launching himself at a girl', was it? Was that what she'd made of his attack? Come to think of it, that must have been what Erin had made of the scene, too. Well, he had launched himself at Persephone and she was a girl, but he doubted either the professor or Erin was correct in their idea of his intentions in doing so. Sure, maybe he shouldn't have resorted to violence, but after all Persephone had done, it almost seemed like that was the only way left to stop her. As for her being a girl, Jack didn't give a rat's ass. He wasn't like Rafa in discriminating between genders. He would have launched himself at her no matter what she was.

Thinking of the Gryffindor, it occurred to Jack that Rafa (along with a significant portion of the school) had probably witnessed his embarrassing attempt to get vengeance for Ruka. If that was the case, the Slytherin boy could never again berate Rafa for resorting to violence in times of anger unless he wanted to be a hypocrite. The very idea caused him to burn with a fit of inner anger that added to the shame of his reckless actions. Nothing to be done about it now, though.

Jack was more concerned about what Professor Bercegeay had in mind in regards to 'an intervention'. He didn't seem to have been given detention as Persephone had, which astonished him greatly, but he began to wonder if detention might have been...preferable. In any case, he had to remind himself again that what was done was done and all he could do was try to make the most of it.

He was still deeply concerned about Ruka, but Opeila, who seemed to be similarly concerned, expressed to the professor that she believed the second-year needed to go to the Hospital Wing. The silly love-obsessed Flying instructor decided, at last, to take the matter more seriously. After completing her little match-making session, she agreed to walk Ruka and Opeila to the nurse with Persephone in tow in order to keep the girl out of trouble.

For a few seconds, Jack was tempted to ask permission to come along, but he quickly re-thought that idea. Again he considered how his concern for someone else had created a tidal wave of emotions that had washed all reason and logic from his mind. He had almost caused more harm than help again, just as before when he had been worried about Opeila. Jack didn't want to think about why this kept happening. He didn't want to hear the voice in his head chiding him for having ignored the warning signs or denying he had gotten too close to Ruka. He just...didn't want to be himself for now.

Luckily for him, he had someone else to be. He could be Erin's Parce. Turning back to the purple-haired girl, he tried not to think of all that had just transpired and attempted to focus on just her.

"Thank you for worrying about me," he told her with an honest smile, reaching for her hand with one of his own. "Um...did you...still want to try this...?" Jack inquired, waving the paper he had also been given by the professor. By 'this' he meant the event, since the paper also had a question to ask his 'partner', and it was a question he would have very much liked to know Erin's answer to. Of course...even if Erin did want to continue, they would have had to converse right then and there unless Quinn had to decide to let go of him, first. After all, the Slytherin boy was still in the grip of the Hufflepuff third-year.

The scratching of quill on parchment was music to Jorah's ears. The sweet sound was all the more easier to hear in the quiet stillness of the library. The smell of fresh parchment and the aroma of leather from the multitude of tomes lining the shelves filled Jorah with a sense of calm. It was a return to normalcy and that's exactly what he needed these days. It felt good to get back to the grind, so good in fact that he was running late, again! "Damn it!", he said when he finally realized the time. Jorah carefully rolled up his parchments and tucked them away in his bag. He place a hefty book back on the shelf, sliding it snug in-between its brethren. After a quick pocket check, wand...good, Valentine...good, the young Eagle was off and running down to the small hall.

The flying professor Olphie was throwing together a Valentine's tea party. It was the perfect occasion to give Ruthie her Valentine's day card. With the help from an older student, Jorah had procured a special Valentine's card from Hogsmeade. The card was sprayed with Amortentia, and smelled like whatever pleased its reader. For Jorah, it was that smell of leather he was leaving behind in the library. At other times it smelt like home; a concoction mom's cooking, dad's cologne, and the sea. The final smell was of lavender, a scent which he had grown to associate with Ruthie, probably just a coincidence. Written on the card was the following.

Happy Valentine's Day Ru!
Thank you for being such a good friend.

PS: The card is sprayed with Amortenita!
It smells like whatever you love most. How cool is that!

-Jorah

Jorah didn't want to look like he loved the girl or anything. He would not jeopardize their friendship. As he had signed and thought for a moment how best to give it to her without making things weird between them. It couldn't be by his family's owl, too extravagant. He couldn't just leave it lying around the common room because then someone else might see it and make fun of them. Olphie's tea party was perfect, there would be plenty of students attending from each house. Giving a Valentine's card to your friend at a Valentine's party just seemed like a normal thing to do.

Jorah came to an abrupt halt before the party's entrance. He gave himself a few minutes to catch his breathe then quietly slithered in the hall. His eyes were immediately assaulted by a room of pink. Pink chairs, pink tables, pink walls! Given the fact that Olphie put this shin dig together, one shouldn't be too surprised in the choice of decoration. Jorah had completely missed the chaos from earlier which was probably for the best because he had seen his share of discord in October. By the time he finally reached the party, the hall would have some semblance of order.

Jorah quickly scanned the room and noticed two things. One, some of the students had dressed up for the occasion so now Jorah felt embarrassed and unprepared. Crap, I didn't think we would need to dress up for this thing. It wouldn't matter anyway because the only fine dress robes he owned were still in a singed and bloody heap under his bed. Sure, he might be able to wash out the blood and ash, but there was still a hole in the back from where he was stabbed. The second thing he noticed was that the students seemed to be grouped in pairs and were asking each other questions. Oh no, Olphie was taking this seriously. If anyone asks, I'm just here for the snacks.

Jorah spotted Ruthie not too far away. She seemed not to be paired with another student, but near a stuffed animal and Jake. Jorah approached them both. "Hey Ru, is this seat taken?", he pointed at an empty spot near where the stuffed animal was.

Word Count: 672 | Interacting with @Ruthie Greer

Mentions @Olphie Bercegeay @Persephone Barret @Opeila Seilun @Alan Vanes and @Jack Burnett

Leaving Thread to here

Interacting With: @Nico Shymane, @Olphie Bercegeay
Mentioning: @Erin Ryan, @Jack Burnett, @Quinn Healy, several of the matches

As the afternoon wore away, the surroundings of the small hall became less interesting, Persephone’s green eyes only seeing those who stood before her. The students who resided in the background, going about the tea party as if chaos hadn’t erupted, were pointless to the blonde, doing nothing to further her own adventure into the depths known so well as detention. Those around her, for example the giant and Burnett, were affected by her actions directly, given no option but to acknowledge she was there.

This is why the prefect’s curse of surprise was so beautiful to her ears,  the symphony of angels, granted solely by Persy. Although the cry was more one of surprise than agony, it was the one of the most fulfilling things she’d heard this dreary afternoon.

This high, an ethereal creation of endorphins, was cruelly suspended by the actions of one Nico Shymane, the rather attractive prefect who had accompanied the half-giant on his dangerous journey to Persephone’s grasp. The girl, who had previously made an attempt to befriend the malicious Persy, now exposed a different side of her, a character which the younger Slytherin much preferred. This, to Persy, was an exhibition of the true Nico Shymane, the one beneath the friendly facades and likely impressive grades. The second year peeled the sunglasses from her eyes, revealing that which greeted Persephone with an odd sense of astonishment, settling almost as quickly as it had risen. Her eyes, which had held ice before, now burned with a fiery core, as if heat had built up inside the Slytherin’s body, exploding in her pupils.

Ah, a dhampir.

When childhood was a pleasant memory, times that Persy only dared recall when racking her brain for abandoned knowledge, the young blonde was greatly educated on the Wizarding world, including the breeds and half breeds that resided within it. A dhampir, if memory served her correctly, was a portion vampire and a portion human. Precise symptoms and characteristics which they possessed were unknown to her, her enlightenment limited to that which her parent’s deemed her worthy of at such a young age.

But no one, she knew, could mistake those eyes.

The dhampir’s voice sent a bitter chill down Persy’s spine, her body’s way of recoiling from the touch of the corpse. Her mind, apparently apart from the fear that flowed through her veins, was unintimidated, instead amused by the dhampir’s antics, something she regarded as simply the other player taking a turn. This pleasure was fleeting, however, as it was brutally cut off at the sensation of hard nails poking into her flesh, a feeling which resulted in a harsh bite on the inside of her cheek. Persephone refused to let this Slytherin see her in anguish again.

“...detention for you.” The threat, sliding from the dhampir’s lips, was laughable. At the prefect’s disposal, a spiteful, ‘weak’ first year stood, defenseless if the part-vampire opted for an attack, a bite that would change Persephone’s entire way of life. Throwing this aside, as if the dhampir hadn’t considered it, she went the innocent route, dangling a detention over the blonde’s head. Wasn’t she already going to get detention? Was this meant to frighten her into the trap of better behavior? To her knowledge, Persephone (as well as Jack’s rambling, which hopefully no one had paid mind) had made it quite obvious that detention was a punishment that was rather appealing; a validation for the events of the love-themed tea party.

Oh, the irony.

Against her better judgement, of which the Slytherin seemingly didn’t possess, she chuckled at the threat. “That all you got, love? The eyes are quite pretty, but that won’t get you far.” Immediately following the risky statement, she attempted to shove the dhampir away from her, the warm sensation of blood trickling down her pale neck.

For the duration of this forever lasting tea party, Persephone had been quite delighted with her actions and the results, watching like a god as her creation ran amuck. The errand, which the Slytherin had previously acknowledged as nothing but a bad time with house points, became her lovely coming-of-age event. Of course, Persy had not aged, but she had split the confinement of her cocoon, spreading gorgeous wings decorated swimmingly with poisonous intent. This change in her had, sadly, been brought on by feelings she was unfamiliar with, but the serpent made the decision that it’s the action, not the motivation that counts.

Perhaps this emotion had clouded her, consumed her so much that it had begun to feel natural, and this is why the interruption of a purple-haired diva greeted her with such flame, contrasting that of the pure energy that had been dwelling in her body. The girl spoke to both the half-giant and Burnett, speaking in such a manner that Persephone immediately felt sickened. Knock her out?! Puh-lease! This chick could plead insanity, and maybe that’s the only way she’ll get out of this.

Her...her date?

The girl, who had been now referred to as Erin, went on in a quick ramble, but Persephone had gone deaf to her commentary. Not only had Miss Erin Whatever-Her-Surname-Was soaked up what had been Persy’s spotlight, but spoke now in a tone of possession, of dominance that only Persy was permitted to use, something granted solely to those who deserved it. A different sensation, one that was foreign to the blonde, soaked into her pores, her long, pale fingers beginning once again to tremble in fear of the burdens she carried.

No, she had felt this exact emotion once before, she was sure. Perhaps not too long ago. But now, when time was so lacking, was not the time to dwell on it.

Her lips had parted, words attempting to form in her tongue-tied throat when Professor Bercegeay at last began to react to the chaos that had stirred under her moderation. The Flying Professor had been comfortably confined to her spot, sipping her tea and observing the unfolding mayhem with interest, likely pondering over her intervention and whether it would be necessary. Apparently, sinking her teeth into the half-giants hand had been the breaking point, a fact which the young Slytherin would surely note for later.

The professor’s voice, one typically dripping with a dreamy quality, had become something more stern, highlighted with forcefulness that was meant to drive Persephone to obey, hopefully without question or comment. It amused the green eyed Slytherin to watch another facade crumble to the ground, cracked by the pure reality of the situation, an event which Persy had mastered so brilliantly.

You don’t know someone’s true self until you break that God forsaken wall.

This, undoubtedly, was a dream the professor simply must wake up from.

When Professor Bercegeay beckoned for Persy to join her in a walk, her feet remained planted firmly to the floor for a moment too long. “Now, Professor, is that how you ask nicely? Doesn’t seem like the spirit of Valentine’s Day, does it?”

Nevertheless, she pursued the professor in their journey back to her previous position, her arms dangling freely at her sides in another display of her being aloof. These detentions, which she had known were coming, were hardly anything to affect her. A gift, one might say. Her eyes twinkled with something of delight as she observed the professor follow through her routines, addressing what needed to be addressed and ignoring what didn’t. The Slytherin didn’t bother denying her admiration for the professor and her ability to maintain such a well-constructed facade. But, of course, everything could be destroyed.

Bringer of destruction.

At last, Professor Bercegeay, her cover of whimsy once again active, began to list out the pairs as Persy made silent comments about each.

“Ruthie Greer and Freddie the dog.” Wait, what?

“Nico Shymane and Quinn Healy.” A match made in heaven, no doubt.

“Lark Flaer and Dale Kurt.” Her eyes flickered to them, a hint of something in them. They, too, looked flawless together.

“Opeila Seilun and Ruka Tan…” Ha, bleeder and broken toes.

Although the Flying Professor may have spoken to Persephone, likely questioning her about her actions this afternoon, the girl could no longer hear her. The ringing had returned as she acknowledged something, her chest deflating with her breath, her lungs no longer able to bear the weight of oxygen.

She ignored the question, as it felt like the overflow in her very full bottle of things to process.

Eh, they were leaving anyway. This wouldn’t bother her as soon as she’d left it behind.

Would it?

Exits to In Sickness and In Health

She held her hand steady, wide-eyed waiting for Jake to grab it. She didn't want to be useless again like at the Masked Ball. And more than that, she didn't want to see her pupil succumb to one of his fears. He was making so much progress with his flying. Surely, Jake would get better at being less afraid in other settings too--or at least she would hope as much.

It took a few seconds, but eventually the Hufflepuff grabbed onto her black sweater and she pulled him out without knocking him into any of the chairs. Almost immediately, the boy clung to her side, burying his face in her sweater as he cried. At first, this move caught her off-guard but then she wrapped him in a kind of side hug. "It's okay, Jake. You're safe now," she reiterated as she let him go--or tried to. Looking around the room, she tried to find the exit. Amist the chaos, the door seemed to hide.

And that was when Professor Bercegaey finally seemed to take issue with the events that had unfolded thus far. "ENOUGH!" she bellowed, loud enough to quiet the entire room should they listen. With these words, it seemed Jake was calming if ever so slightly, but Ruthie would stay with him until she was sure he was okay. And he wasn't at the mention that Jake might wet himself in fear. It wasn't exactly a nice comment. Ruthie felt Jake hid behind her. She let him. It seemed the Professor might not be quite so deserving of being her favorite.

And then came the pairs. Ruthie wanted the roles to switch--for her to cling to Jake. This was exactly why she had no intention of being here to begin with. If only Lark had listened to her and let them get out of her together earlier. Now, there was nothing to do but listen with fear and dread. Begrudgingly, she pulled her beanie farther down her forehead with her free hand. At least Lark was with Dale. That was good. Although hadn't he left? If so, Lark could stay with Ru and Jake because the reality was Ruthie had no intention of participating. Until she was matched with...a stuffed animal. While Jake repeated the words and stared at her quizzically, a grin crept across the Scottish girl's face, growing larger with each fading moment. She hadn't gotten a person. What a miracle. What an out. What ingenious spirit laid within the Professor.

And it was perfect because she could stay with Jake and keep him away from his match: the one and only Aurelia. Ruthie didn't know her personally, but she was the President of SWAG and from what she'd seen on the pitch, Aurelia was a force to be reckoned with. If she wasn't mistaken, Aurelia could eat Jake and all his fears in one sitting. Ruthie wasn't about to let that happen. "Stay with me," Ruthie told Jake, placing a hand on his shoulder, "And Freddie too."

They were still standing there by the table from which she'd recovered Jake when a familiar voice sounded. It was Jorah, surprisingly calm and peppy. It was almost unnerving, especially when you considered how absent he'd become of late. She didn't want to recall the night of the Ball and she had been distancing herself, yes, but it seemed that was a two way street. Besides, Jake was more important now. "You can sit wherever you'd like," she addressed him sternly, "But I have to look after Jake." And with that, she gave Jake a wee tap on the shoulder as if to suggest to him that they move on towards the back of the room where they could trace the edges for the door. If she were lucky, Lark might leave with them too, but Ruthie had a suspicion she'd talk to Dale for a while. As for Cormac, she regretted he may have gotten lost in the fray. She'd have to apologize to him soon. It was a pity he'd discovered her in this mood and amidst this chaos.

"Come on, Jake," she encouraged him. Her voice was calm and low, the way she might have spoken to her sister at home when she was frightened.

Interacting with @Jake Morris & @Jorah Moussa
Mentioning @Lark Flaer, @Cormac McCarthy & @Aurelia Notrésvace

Ruthie turned to reply. She seemed surprised to see him. Jorah studied her appearance. She wasn't all gussied up for the occasion like the other girls, she was authentic and Jorah liked that about her. The tom boy's attire consisted of a black sweater, baggy blue jeans, and a blue beanie. Her clothing looked comfortable and that comfort extended to Jorah who was now feeling less self-conscious about his own wardrobe, the standard student uniform: black slacks, white button down, black robe, topped off with a blue and bronze tie which hung much too loosely around his neck. Jorah hated his tie, when worn properly, he perceived a constant tightness around his neck. It was a sensation he had grown to associate with asphyxiation which brought back intrusive memories of him struggling to breathe with collapsed lung in a smoke filled room.

The horrors of the past would not come creeping up today. Jorah examined the golden locks peaking from beneath Ruthie's beanie and her grey eyes which reminded him that she was still a girl. If you had any doubt that she was a girl, one would only need to visit the Frog choir to hear her sing. Jorah was musically challenged and only joined the choir to care for the frogs, but even he noticed that she had a beautiful voice. Jorah wasn't a fan of their distance, but it was warranted given that Jorah was getting over a puppy dog crush for his friend. Just something about seeing her in a dress gave him butterflies the night of the Masquerade ball. Luckily the feeling was short lived. He just wanted things to go back to normal.

Ruthie responded, "You can sit wherever you'd like, but I have to look after Jake." Jorah then nodded towards Jack, the boy he would forever remember for his hilarious pumpkin costume. The boy looked distraught. What had those teary eyes seen? Jorah knew better than to ask. "Of course, Ru. Hey Jake" Jorah extended a closed fist for a fist bump from the young badger. "Would it be ok if I hung out with you and Ruthie?"

WC: 371 | Total WC: 1043 | Interacting with: @Ruthie Greer @Jake Morris