Sorry! I couldn’t help but squish Akari into this compartment xD
Interacting with: @Griseldis Edelhardt
Mentioning: Everyone in the compartment

Ah, alas it was time to go back to school. Winter break had drawn to a close and it was time to get back into the regular school routine.
Akari had had a quiet but very enjoyable break with her family but was honestly quite excited to come back to school.

Akari didn’t take up much room on the bench of the compartment as she nestled into the corner of her seat and rested her head against the windowpane with Kenji, her little kitten fast asleep and curled up in her lap. She herself was dozing in and out of sleep throughout the entire time onboard the train so she hadn’t really paid much attention to who had entered the compartment she was in but did briefly hear a bit of chatter in the background causing her to assume it was filled up.

Before long she was fully woken up out of her daydreamy state by a few loud noises which startled her immensely.
Her eyes sprang open and she immediately looked towards the door to see if that was where the sound had originated from.
Apparently, she wasn’t the only one surprised, with his head turned in the same direction Kenji’s ears were perked up and he was wide awake as well.
Puzzled, she then quickly glanced around at everyone in the compartment. She wasn't imagining, right?
After seeing everyone also investigating, she came to the conclusion that something really did happen.
Her gaze then automatically fell upon the girl who sat directly in front of her. She didn't recall ever meeting her before but perhaps this girl had been more awake at the time of the commotion and therefore might have more information than she did so she piped up curiously but had a tiny hint of concern in her voice.
”Em... do you know what just happened?”

────────────────── ♛ ──────────────────

Interacting With: @Evelynn Decipio @Anastasia Beckett @Jackson Valentine
Mentioning: @Lydia Cooper
Hex Color: #800000

─────────────────── • ───────────────────

Hell, Rafa swore he’d heard his name.

The young man’s head, which had been previously downturned in the act of sorting through a generous pile of galleons in his hand, promptly snapped up at the sudden ghost of sound, his careful eyes glancing around the walkway he inhabited in search of the origins of the voice. The vocals, male, he could have sworn he’d heard before… though he couldn’t quite pin them to a face. Shame, he was rather good with faces. Perhaps they were talking about the Gryffindor team’s winning streak, then? Hell, he’d only wanted candy. There would be no other reason to expend energy lazing into the walkway with Ana, loitering over the trolley as he idly fumbled with the plethora of plastic packages they’d been eyeballing. However, he’d always been curious, especially when his name was involved… of course, he should have realized by now that pleasant conversation hardly ever followed his name.

“…don’t have a thing for Lydia Cooper. I just saw her wandering around alone and I thought hey, let’s dance! I guess some people are just really sensitive.”

“…some advice, it would be to give D'Spacito a wide berth. I'm not sure what your experience has been like so far at Hogwarts, but there are certainly some people that are better left to be avoided."

He’d long since set aside the packages, wordlessly approaching the compartment as his curiosity got the best of him. That female voice it…. it was so familiar, it hurt. Wait, scratch that. It hurt his ears regardless of whether he recognized it or not. And in a normal situation, he would have had the stamina to deduct its origins – however, in the midst of the continuous insults directed towards his name, he couldn’t help but push the thought from his mind, anger bubbling into his stomach and taking the reigns instead. His toes tightened, a red sheen coming to decorate his nose as he inwardly raged. Wide berth? What is this, the fucking pandemic? Who the hell did this person think they were, calling him stupid when they had left the compartment unsealed? They surely didn’t know him well enough. He wasn't stupid, it was called… well, he didn’t remember what it was called, but it was probably an English word he hadn’t learned yet. That was the only explanation he could accredit to his loss of words. Whatever the case, he was about to cause some hell. No one talked behind his back like a fucking pussy. Even accrediting two of his close friends to the same ill-willed descriptions directed at him. Quite what? Huh? Don’t pretend you want to hold back, bitch, I want to hear more –

He’d been so caught up in his own bitter thoughts, he hadn’t noticed the break in conversation until the door had opened. And his bitter anger had turned into a gleeful, giddy joy.

It was Evelynn.

Well, it went without saying that he was going to go even more out of his way to have fun with this one.

A small, dejected façade made its way upon his face, and he tucked his hands awkwardly behind his back, rocking on his heels. “Really?” he asked, shaking his head in weary disappointment. “Talking about me behind closed doors, now? Well,” he leaned forward, expecting the hinges as he spoke, “semi-closed. Was it courage or stupidity that possessed you to leave the compartment door cracked during your little gossip session?” He parroted her words. His own words may have been offensive, but his tone carried no bite, instead reeking with something akin to… insecurity, was it? Pain? Before the narrator would be able to give this any further thought, a falsely hurt laugh would escape the boy’s lips as he stuffed his hands into his hoodie, “No hard feelings, of course – I guess you have a point,” he shrugged. Then, pretending to try to salvage the air he was so delicately poisoning with tenseness, he managed another awkward laugh, “I mean – damn, I have an actual fan club. Who… would have thought?” To all those around him, even those who knew him inside out, he would appear genuinely and thoroughly distraught by what he’d heard in the compartment, his body language screaming unease, his face leaking in subtlely contained pain. A purposeful ploy. Anastasia knew naught of his brilliant mask-pulling abilities, nor did the nameless student that sat across from his archrival. But there was one in the compartment that did. She was the one he would tear apart.

Smacking his lips with a well-rehearsed tight throat, he would take a moment to observe the car with tentative eyes, his wavering brown pupils turning towards his first victim – the face was unfamiliar, but he’d already pinpointed the vocals to that of the kid he’d tried to deck during the last ball. It was funny, he’d seen the boy around the common room a few times, but never could he have tacked such an innocent face to such a dastardly crime. Ah, more fun for him. Clasping his hands together with hunched shoulders, he looked around quickly, before talking in the perfect hurried manner. Not scared – uncomfortable. “Well!” he started. “Anastasia and I were planning to return to our own car, but it would be… foolish of me now. I would hate for Eve to entertain your negative impression of me.” He soon entered the car, followed closely behind by his friend, before closing the door behind him and setting his foot in the walkway. The blockage could be easily blamed on his long legs. However, Rafael knew better than that. He wanted to make it hard on his enemy. It was a subtle yet obvious statement that he didn’t want her to leave, as it would be awkward try and step over the blockage. If she wanted to get out, she would either have to resort to an awkward escape or use force, either physical or verbal. And he was more than happy to play the victim in front of Anastasia and Jackson.

“Sorry – I’d never actually caught your name,” he chuckled towards the boy, somewhat apprehensively. All for show, of course, and the show was perfect, not a crack in the young man’s façade. “If I remember correctly, though, we met at the ball, right?” Then, before the other would have an opportunity to answer. “I’m sorry,” he would blurt out, a pinch of vulnerability reaching his eyes as he rubbed his neck. “Last year, at the Blossom Ball, I’d let things get out of hand. People I love got hurt, and, I – “ his throat went dry in memory. That wasn’t an act. “Lydia’s like a sister to me,” he finished with a clearing of the throat, meeting the other’s eyes again. “I overreacted. It wasn’t right. I just didn’t want her to get hurt. It was… a twisted way of going about things, huh?” he chuckled, looking down again. “I’ve had time to think about it, and I really regret what I did.” Lies. “I just want you to understand. I’m not a bad person. At least, I try not to be. Just… yeah, okay.” He glanced uneasily at Evelynn, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “Please understand that Evelynn and I have our own little history,” he sighed, continuing. “We don’t agree with each other on a matter of things. Not to mention I was a pretty shitty person last year. Sometimes our opinions cloud our judgment.” It was a technique he’d seen against himself a thousand times – using vulnerability to invalidate the words of another. Oh, how he wanted her to retaliate, get angry, prove his point. Alas, the only thing he could do was control his own mask. If she was anything like she had been last year, she would do the rest of the work.

“Speaking of,” he was properly turned towards Eve now, a slight bite to his eyes as his lips downturned in the slightest. A sign that he was weary of the confrontation between them already, further solidifying his lie. “Spilling names is a bit unbefitting of a smart student such as yourself, yeah? Aren’t your vendettas something you're supposed to keep to yourself? If I recall correctly,” he pursed his lips, “half the souls on your little hitlist are perfectly fine people. Makes a person wonder who the real menace is.” The words were calmly stated, as if he were absolutely positive of what he was saying. “If it’s any consolation, however, I’ll keep my mouth shut. I don’t need to lift a finger to see your own mistakes destroy you. Everyone has a right to their opinion, after all.” His eyes flickered down again, almost warily, as his hand groped for his elbow nervously. “Though, I was hoping you would… continue on with your descriptions,” he foraged on warily. “It’s been a while since we’ve spoken, and to be quite honest, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you this forthcoming with your perceptions of me. I,” he chuckled weakly, “don’t know how beating on someone’s supposed to get girls, but by all means. We have time to burn, so maybe you could explain.” Then, looking up, “Surely you’ll state your opinions to my face this time? he challenged, parroting her own words back to her. The only challenge, once again, was his words, as his tone carried no bite.

What was he doing? A plethora of things. Attempting to reconcile things with Jackson in his own, twisted little way. Attempting to turn Anastasia against Evelynn. Attempting to vilify Evelynn, either through testing that Gryffindor resolve… or discrediting that Lion Badge pinned upon her chest. He wasn’t afraid of what she could reveal about him, whether it be their little duel after the Hufflepuff Game or his complicated history with women. Hell, he’d already shown everyone how dangerous he could be, how much damage he could cause. And even if Evelynn called his bullshit – which was a real possibility, at this point – who would stand to believe her, when even he couldn’t differentiate between what he felt and what he said anymore?

He was just a foolish Gryffindor. That’s what Eve had indirectly said. But perhaps she should have been more careful herself. After all, he wasn’t nearly as foolish as she’d originally thought.

Permission to godmod Ana's entering of the train car granted.

────────────────────── 𝒜 ──────────────────────

Interacting With: @Rafael D'Spacito | @Evelynn Decipio | @Jackson Valentine
Mentioning: Jasmine | @Vladimir Athanatos | (indirectly) Scarlett Aden
Currently closed to interaction other than Evelynn, Rafa, and Jackson
Hex Color: #FF4080
The 'fit
────────────────────── 𝒜 ──────────────────────

For Moderation:

Action: Follow Rafa into Evelynn and Jackson's compartment, get ready to throw down if needed
Health: 500/500
Abilities: Lovely Creature | Fearless | Terrible Presence
Stats: Stamina 5 | Evasion 10 | Strength 5 | Wisdom 9 | Arcane Power 10 | Accuracy 7

Whatever the saying was, this was a new year, practically the same Ana. Mostly because she had begun to deal with the demons she had spent so long running from. Remarkably, as she had begun to delve into the true cause of her mess of emotions, she had all but ceased to lash out at undeserving bystanders. Funny how that worked. It wasn't to say her notorious temper or lack of impulse control had vanished, but they had, in her opinion, become significantly less destructive. It helped that people knew something had happened to her parents. While her position on the matter hadn't budged since the argument where she practically threatened to disown her extended family, she had to admit it was nice to have room to breathe. She wasn't certain exactly what she planned to do about that long term, but for the moment, she had other things to deal with.

The Gala had been no small part of her figuring out how to deal with things. Whether or not she liked it, the Beckett legacy was hers to bear. As much as she disliked what it stood for, she positively refused to give her ancestors, all of whom she was certain were looking down and eager for her to fail, the satisfaction of her being the one to bring down a centuries-old legacy. Despite the fact she had been trained to do so since birth, there was a part of her that doubted whether or not she was capable of the task before her. The Gala had been a strong beginning, but it was just that. She was a schoolgirl, flung into a society that adults had difficulty maneuvering. Worse still, she had no allies. In the subtle war that was pureblood society, most could count on their family. Ana couldn't. She knew for a fact her uncle and cousins were looking for her to fail so that they could breeze in and take over. Lydia had said as much at the Gala. No, Ana couldn't depend on her family for anything. Beyond things that were expected from them as not to bring (more) shame to the Beckett name, she could expect nothing but sabotage and strife from them.

Still, despite all of her new problems, a part of her was beginning to settle down, approaching something vaguely resembling peace. It was evident from her demeanor to her wardrobe to her hair. She seemed far more like the confident princess she used to be than she had in months. Her emo/leather-jacket/biker-meets-hipster/whatever-you-want-to-call-it style from the fall had been replaced by something much closer to the classically elegant outfits she had worn during her first and second year. Most notably, she was blonde now. She still wasn't used to it, or sure why exactly she had bleached her hair in the first, but she liked it. Some might think it was some sort of homage to her mother, but she knew that wasn't the answer.

Jasmine, who Ana could have sworn was napping in her compartment, was rubbing against Ana's leg as if begging for some of the goodies Ana was contemplating. Ana arched an unimpressed eyebrow at the mewling cat, who seemed to have forgotten the fact she'd eaten breakfast and a fair amount of the meat from Ana's sandwich. Her dark eyes narrowed As she waited for Rafa to finish up, her attention drifted to the bits of conversation drifting out from the surrounding compartments. Her approach, developed from years of scolding from her parents on such behavior, was that it wasn't technically eavesdropping if they were speaking loudly enough for her to hear.

It wasn't anything particularly interesting, just chatter about someone looking to impress a girl, and Ana's attention nearly drifted away until she heard a familiar name. Who was talking poorly about Rafael? She didn't recognize either voice off the top of her head, but her stomach tightened. There were a great many things Ana could deal with and not get angry. With the exception of a few particularly vicious rumors about herself and her parents that had sprung up in the fall, she generally ignored rumors about herself. They were small people trying to feel important. Someone so causally disparaging her best friend was another matter. She could feel that familiar rage that had overtaken her the first week of school when she had attacked the girl in the hall rising up within her and she exhaled sharply in a rather feeble attempt to gain control. Maybe it was merely a passing mention from someone who didn't know him well. Surely, nobody was stupid enough to just casually have a conversation about someone who could very well be outside to hear them. Ana managed to control her urge to kick down the door in the style of an American superhero and her temper began to calm slightly.

Every bit of that went out the window when she heard the conversation continue. They weren't just remarking on a particular instance of behavior, they were making broad, sweeping judgments that he was a fool who did whatever he pleased. That was more than enough for Ana, who didn't wait to hear her own name before following Rafa in.

As Ana entered the compartment, her murder path was slightly detoured at the sound of a pounding knock in the compartment neighboring the one that she and Rafael were in the process of invading. Her lips pressed together as she considered what he was saying and more importantly, who he was. She still bore a grudge for a particularly painful Flipendo at the Blossom Ball and if she weren't already on a warpath, she'd be on an entirely separate one now. What he said was concerning, but frankly, the boy hadn't earned any sort of credibility with her. Even if what he was saying was true, he had loitered around enough to make her confident she had more than enough time to deal with the matter at hand prior to whatever disaster he was foretelling. Decision made, she swept into the compartment, her loose hair and coat puffing dramatically behind her.

Her brow furrowed when she saw who one of the speakers had been. Evelynn was someone that Ana didn't like per se, but didn't think badly of beyond what she was obliged to as Rafa's best friend. The two had a fair amount of overlap since they were in the same house, both editors for the Headliner, and both on the Quidditch team, and she rather confused Ana, if she was being perfectly honest. She was a bit blindsided by the other girl's categorization of her as "a fool who acted without thinking", if not particularly offended. She knew that, even before she had taken to physically fighting underclassmen in the halls, she had a reputation, one that she had admittedly earned to some extent. Ana most certainly did think her actions through! For example, the yacht she had bought to spite her aunt and uncle had earned several hours of thought, leading to the conclusion that spiting her family far outweighing the monetary impact or any others for that matter. Maybe her own impulses won out the majority of the time, but she thought her actions through. Still, her own stung feelings weren't the issue here.

"Talking about me behind closed doors, now? Well,semi-closed. Was it courage or stupidity that possessed you to leave the compartment door cracked during your little gossip session?"

Rafael's reaction certainly caught Ana by surprise and stoked her simmering anger. She'd seen him angry before, but he seemed legitimately hurt, which made the girl incandescently livid. "People so cowardly as to discuss others in such a manner are hardly the arbiters of who is and is not brave," Ana said coldly, following up Rafa's words of a similar sentiment. She drew herself straight, making every inch of height count as she channeled her inner Pureblood lady. Her dark eyes darted about the compartment, before settling on the first year who appeared to have begun the conversation. A person with more skills of self-reflection might consider that what the two had been discussing had at least a small amount of merit, but nobody had ever said Ana was a self-reflective person. In her mind, the fact that they were saying it behind Rafa's back and more importantly the principle of the fact that Rafa seemed to be legitimately wounded negated any and all truth in their words.

She moved slightly to allow Rafa to close the door behind them before her murderous glare returned to the puny boy seated in the compartment. Without glancing away from the boy, since Rafa seemed more focused on Evelynn for the moment, she placed a hand on Rafa's arm as though to signal she was more than prepared to whip out her wand if needed. Despite the fact that, by any measure, she looked comparable to a prim and perfect Barbie doll, Anastasia Beckett was not someone to be trifled with. The mention of the Blossom Ball caused her to tense, ever so slightly. It would have been imperceptible unless someone was watching for it. Try as she might, dreams from that night still haunted her. The mosps, the blinding pain and terror, all of it still visited her regularly.

The only thing that gave Ana the slightest bit of pause was the mention of Lydia being like a sister. She didn't know the girl well, but unless Rafa was from Alabama (which Ana was certain he wasn't), the proper description for their relationship would have not been familial. Last she knew, they were nothing more than friends, but the choice of words struck her as odd. She could bring that up later though. Rafa had never been anything other than honest with her, brutally so at points in the fall, so why would she have doubted how genuine he was then?

"Please understand that Evelynn and I have our own little history. We don’t agree with each other on a matter of things. Not to mention I was a pretty shitty person last year. Sometimes our opinions cloud our judgment."

"Whether or not her opinion has a legitimate history behind it or not, I'd be wary of trusting the of anyone who considers it acceptable to talk about people in such fashion. Rafael's actions may have been suboptimal, but at least he had the decency to confront you rather than skulking about," Ana interjected, disgust at the entire situation dripping from her voice. After that, she fell silent again. Rafael seemed to be making some vague attempt at rectifying things with the boy, which Ana failed to see the point of. Something that was core to Ana's very being was her judgments of others. With a few notable exceptions, she could put people within one of about three categories within seconds of meeting them. One would have thought that this tendency to keep so rigidly to her snap judgments would have lessened, given all that had happened in the previous year, but if anything, she clung to it more. While Decipio still confused her, this boy didn't.

Her eyes flitted to the other girl for a moment before going back to the first year. It didn't matter whether he had heard the rumors or not, her gaze would tell him all he needed to know. That she was ready to fight him, Decipio, and anyone else she deemed necessary for hurting Rafa. Inwardly she found the irony of the situation rather amusing. Life seemed to have a poetic sense at times, and while more often than not, she resented this, this was a time she was in on the joke. Who was more foolish here - the pair who allegedly acted before thinking and lashed out at the slightest offense, or the first year seeming to want to challenge a third year, his senior in every way Ana could think of? Ana preferred fighting magically, but if it came down to it, she was fairly confident she and Rafa could take the other two in a physical fight. That confidence was likely misplaced, seeing as not a single one of Ana's fights with anything other than magic or words had exactly gone her way, but Ana was apparently an optimist.

Her begrudging respect for Decipio had certainly be lessened and the tiny boy was very close to discovering just how foolish Ana could be. Ana wasn't insane enough to attack someone who had a level of power of her Quidditch pursuits, but hexing first years, which she felt safe to assume the boy was, was practically a rite of passage. The hand not resting on Rafa's arm casually made its way into the pocket where her wand rested. Whether it was his posture, his silence throughout the entire encounter, or something else entirely, Ana was confident the boy was ready to fight if he deemed it necessary. That made at least two of them...

[font=century gothic]INTERACTING WITH @Jackson Valentine, @Rafael D'Spacito and @Anastasia Beckett
MENTIONING @Jacob Harman[/font]

At the prompting of her junior and with the acknowledgement that yes, in fact, perhaps she should actually put her face forward in an attempt to at least find out what all the fuss in the hallway was about, Evelynn rose to her feet. Countenance relaxed to a calm mask of resolution, one befitting someone of her newfound station, she reached for the door, a door that she realized then that she had left cracked. Hesitating with her hand on the handle for a moment, a vague inner turmoil surrounding this fact kicked her stomach into turmoil. Dismissing it as inconsequential a half-second later, however, she slid the compartment door open ready to step into the hall.

Instead, she found herself face to face with none other than Rafael D'Spacito, target of her recent inner venting monologue. What was worse, he was accompanied by a rather unimpressed looking Ana Beckett. Suddenly, the flutter in her belly that returned in full force didn't seem quite so baseless and she found herself reflexively palming the badge in the hand at her side, fingers curling carefully over it to obscure it entirely from view. Though, as her captains gaze was very much locked upon her own, it was likely that motion—especially as subtle as it was—would go unnoticed.

"Neither," she replied with a dismissive air to D'Spacito's barb about having left the door open. Admittedly, in this moment, she did feel rather foolish for having done so, but only because she would have rathered to avoid this particular situation. "I had my reasons for doing so, and contrary to what you seem to think, none of them revolved around you. In fact, I have no qualms with you hearing my opinion."

Truly, it was a shame that Beckett had to be here as well, given that the two of them had finally showed signs that they might get on, but Evelynn never could quite bow her head entirely when it came to D'Spacito.

"I don't recall ever denying anyone's bravery," Evelynn commented, following up Beckett's commentary with a slight tilt of her head, her demeanor equally calm. Shifting her gaze from the blonde back to D'Spacito, she continued, "I merely indicated you were a fool, which you undoubtedly have been—" Given that she'd been overheard, there was no point in trying to say that she hadn't at this point. "—but It would have been poor taste to go into detail behind your back as to why. Instead, given what happened at the ball, I was merely giving Valentine the suggestion to avoid you in future."

But something wasn't quite right. The words employed by the boy standing before her were whetted, sharpened, ready for a fight. They were baiting. The tone that carried them, on the other hand, didn't match. Lighter and constrained, it almost suggested that he was pained in some way and trying to veil it. Gray eyes narrowed suspiciously, flicking back and forth between each of his darker hues. Her silent scepticism only increased with his admission that she had a point. Thoughts returned to that moment in the hospital wing after their last game. He hadn't a word for her then. That, too, had been uncharacteristic of him, and she'd felt the two of them had allowed his mid-game overstep to settle quietly to the floor with her unspoken forgiveness. Was this, then, a continuation of that? Was D'Spacito actually coming around to her line of thinking and accepting those observations she'd made so many months ago?

The sound of her name drew her from her reverie, gaze breaking contact with that of D'Spacito's. From over his shoulder, she caught the advancing form of Jacob Harman just a little ways down the aisle. There was something off about him, too. He seemed almost nervous, face aglow as though he'd come down with a fever. She'd seen Harman from time to time; after all, they did share classes, a breakfast table, and a common room. But aside from his very recent tryout to join the Quidditch team as their second string seeker—and her replacement should she go down—It had been almost a year since she'd last had any significant interaction. Sadly for him, his greeting would go unanswered. Lips had parted with intent to do so when D'Spacito, with his uninvited entrance into the compartment alongside Beckett, stole her opportunity.

"Excuse m—"

In an instant, Evelynn found herself forced backwards into the compartment as the two invaded her space. The door shutting closed behind them served to guillotine her escape. A lofted brow indicated the displeasure at having been interrupted from her self-imposed task to investigate the scene. For the present time, however, she stayed herself from insisting on being permitted past. The moment D'Spacito had entered, his attention had broken away from her, turning instead towards her companion. To Valentine, he had offered an uncertain chuckle, inquiring after… his name?

From D'Spacito to Valentine and back again, Evelynn's gaze flickered. The oddities only seemed to increase. He was irked, desiring a confrontation. Of that, she was certain, else he wouldn't have sought to interrupt the conversation. Continuing to eavesdrop, gaining insight into as much of her thoughts to make use of them at an opportune moment down the line would have been the more devious approach. He'd gone for the direct one instead, just as he had under the stands. Only, he was deviating from the course. Distracting himself… or perhaps her? Eyes narrowed as she tried to discern his angle. He was playing at something.

For what felt like an eternity, she allowed him to vent his thoughts. Admittedly, she found herself taken aback on several occasions. She wouldn't have thought him to be quite so willing to discuss the Blossom Ball, for one; not to admit he was in the wrong. Commentary on their history drew a lofted brow, the corner of one side of her mouth tugging slightly into something caught between a grimace and a smirk. An understatement if ever she had heard one. And skewed as well. But if he would rather she confront him to his face, she would have no qualms airing her issues in the presence of witnesses. Contrary to what he hoped for, however, rather than move for her wand or lash out physically, her arms would rise languidly to cross over her middle as she continued to regard him in calculated silence.

And so he continued. She couldn’t help but smirk at his claim to her intelligence, and all the more-so with his talk of vendettas. It was amusing, really. Between the two of them, she wasn't the one with the vendetta. And he would think half the people she had listed were fine people. They were among his little posse, after all, and all of them with twisted perspectives on what was acceptable behaviour.

"You'd like to hear my opinions?" She mused when he had finished, left hand cupping right elbow as she lifted the hand of that same side to rest knuckles along the underside of her jaw. "I find it interesting, D'Spacito, that you only deign to listen to what I have to say when in the company of others who could then go on to say how gracious a listener you were. Where was this willingness last year? You say I have a vendetta and that I cower behind closed doors, but as I recall it, I was the one who sought to speak with you after you blatantly undermined my position as a new co-captain in front of the team. And instead of taking the time to listen, you seemed to think it acceptable to silence me with your fist.

"And when that didn't seem to work quite as you intended, tried to set me aflame. And why? Because you were under the impression that I was in the wrong with Caster, when in fact she, like you, seems to believe violence the solution to all problems. Pray tell, who exactly are the fine people? Of those I every single one of them shares a tendency for unreasonable violence and breaking of school rules.

"And Beckett," Evelynn continued, shifting her attention to the girl. There was a slight pause as she took a prolonged and pointed look at the way that Beckett's hand lingered on D'Spacito's arm. "I think the two of you seem to be confused. There is a difference between venting, which is a sharing with someone of confidence a situation that has happened to you in order to sort out your thoughts and feelings; and talking behind someone's back in which you try to chip away their dignity. If you'd actually listened instead of hearing what you wanted to hear, you'd know I didn't actually try to make you look bad. Either of you. Offering a suggestion to keep distance from those who have gone out of their way to cause harm to others isn't rude. It's survival. You have both played the role of bully in the school. Forgive me for wanting to protect the ignorant."

"Is that…" she added towards Rafael after a pause, tone as steeled as the look in her eye, "to your face enough?"

[font=century gothic]ACTION: Forced back into the compartment and engaging in a tête-à-tête[/font]

Because apparently I'm running with this joke AJ is currently contained in a suitcase in the compartment previously occupied by @Xailah Alptraum and @Meenauh Silmataurea.

Now AJ wasn't quite sure exactly how much time had passed, only that it had been a bit. In positive news, he was becoming able to feel his fingers again. In negative news, he was still locked in a suitcase.

Now the why and how of the boy being in the suitcase painted him as quite a gullible individual, and evidently one who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, or perhaps more accurately, in the perfect place for a bunch of Slytherins who were looking to pull a prank.

In his defence, the pretty Slytherin girl had called him handsome AND strong.

Long story short, they had asked him if he could fix a stuck zipper for them, and for some reason the internal alarm bells hadn't rung for the young lion when it turned out the zipper was indeed not stuck in the slightest. Though at that point it was a little too late. He'd heard the incantation 'Petrificus Totalus' and felt the shock to his back as he was paralyzed and promptly stuffed in a suitcase.

His mouth was very dry, but he was starting to get enough movement back to at the very least lick his lips. He could hear voices nearby, below him...they'd really stuck him in the overhead compartment.

He still wasn't quite able to move all of his limbs, perhaps he could call for help? "h... Alright so calling for help wasn't an option. However, he soon heard movement, perhaps the people below him had heard and they were coming to help him.

But as he heard their footsteps get quieter he realised they were just leaving the compartment.

He flexed his hand a little, at least movement was returning. However it only made him more intimately aware of how very small this suitcase was. Which only made him want to get out of the suitcase faster.

A few minutes later, and he was able to move an arm. Well, there was only one solution left, and he only hoped his nerves were still numb or it was going to hurt a lot.

He started thrusting his elbow against the side of the suitcase that he believed not be facing the wall. As more and more of his body woke up he began throwing more weight against it. He heard a different bag fall...curious, he could've sworn he was closer to th-OH!

If his throat wasn't so dry he would've yelped in surprised as for a brief moment he felt weightless before the suitcase and he fell to the ground.

In brighter news his whole body was awake now! In sadder news that meant his pain response was fully functional.

Hopefully he had gotten someone's attention at least, because he was still faced with the issue of the lack of zips on the inside of the suitcase.

────────────────── ♛ ──────────────────

Interacting With: @Jackson Valentine @Anastasia Beckett @Evelynn Decipio
Mentioning: @Wren Caster • Vladimir Athatanos • Kyle DeRook
Hex Color: #800000

─────────────────── • ───────────────────

"—but It would have been poor taste to go into detail behind your back as to why. Instead, given what happened at the ball, I was merely giving Valentine the suggestion to avoid you in future."

Rafael listened quietly, his eyes somber to the core as he took his supposed punishment, making sure to wince at the appropriate places and employ his facial expressions well. She was, as he’d expected, playing right into the emotions he had wanted, and he was giddy to reciprocate them. He also found that another one of his missions had been successful – Anastasia had been turned against his co-captain in his defense, a fact that only brought a pang of satisfaction to his entertained mind palace. However, he hadn’t been completely successful. The only mission he had seemed to fail, was that of turning Valentine to his side – it was a shame, honestly. He had truly shown no indication of his inward feelings, save for the the carefully chosen words he had challenged Eve with. Was the kid so perceptive as to be able to read the situation for what it was? Past the emotions on his face? Rafael was impressed, curious even. For a first year, this kid seemed to really know his shit. Didn’t mean Rafael would let up on his verbal assault. It had caught his attention only mere moments ago that the boy had been clutching his wand fervently at his side – to this, the Captain raised an eyebrow, a worried look painting his face as he withered away from the kid in the slightest. “Hey – put that down. You plan on using that thing?” Then, a beat passing, the reason for such actions dawned on his mind. A look of offense flashed upon his face in that moment – the kind that followed a slap on the face. Of course, it wasn’t a violent look, but rather, something akin to a careful cross between exhaustion, disbelief, and disappointment. He was disappointed, yeah, sounds about right. “I don’t plan on hitting you… or anything…” he trailed off awkwardly, withdrawing his hands to his lap, not breaking contact. Damn, they’d run into each other once, and he was automatically a threat? Hadn’t he apologized already? Did this kid have underlying issues or something? “You mind?” Really, the sight of the sleek wood irked him, somewhat – the room wasn’t nearly tense enough to warrant wands being drawn, and anyways, Rafael had long lost the anger that once bubbled in his gut in the hallway. He was giddy, excited even. This boy was spoiling his fun. He hated it.

Regardless, he wouldn’t allow the boy to have any further say in their match. He was only a spectator, after all. The Captain would make quick work of brushing off Jackson’s request, acting as if he simply hadn’t heard the firstie's words over the rumble of the tracks and deciding to at least finish his conversation with Evelynn first. His gaze quickly skirted from the boy’s form back to his opponent, and he made careful work to paint the action as innocent.

"I find it interesting, D'Spacito, that you only deign to listen to what I have to say when in the company of others who could then go on to say how gracious a listener you were. Where was this willingness last year? You say I have a vendetta and that I cower behind closed doors, but as I recall it, I was the one who sought to speak with you after you blatantly undermined my position as a new co-captain in front of the team. And instead of taking the time to listen, you seemed to think it acceptable to silence me with your fist.”

“Ah,” he laughed wetly, his throat still tight as he looked upon the girl in regretfulness. “You forget the time gap. I’ll have you know it wasn’t my intention to stumble upon your little conversation. The two of you weren’t exactly subtle. My curiosity was piqued – surely, being a fellow Liberations Member, you can relate to such a feeling.” There was no anger on his face, instead the same calm, composed, slightly dejected look dwelling upon his features. His body language was perfectly calm, perhaps even a little withdrawn, no tells there. Nor were there any in his solemn eyes. “I don’t enjoy talking to you,” he admitted. “You’re an arrogant arse whose voice is too pitchy for my ears.” Musician’s ears, he might add. Eve knew he played. Perhaps she would make the connection, or perhaps she wouldn’t. “I don’t like how you talk as if every word that leaves your mouth is the damned gospel. I also don’t appreciate the way you order me around as if your words actually mean something to me.” A sigh escaped his lips. “At the time of our little interaction, I was being forced into something I had no wish to partake in. By you, I might add,” he stated, with a light emphasis on the ‘you’. “If I remember correctly, you cornered me behind the bleachers and threw the first spell. I was only defending myself.” Then, “If it’s any consolation, you’re the only female I’ve ever hit. I felt pretty disgusted by it, too.” She was special. In the most dangerous sort of way. “You don’t have to expect that from me anymore. Swear.” He shrugged. “I know you know me well, judging the times you go out of your way to give me hell. So surely you know I’m a man of my word.”

He felt it necessary to go further regarding the Quidditch aspect of things. She still hadn’t given him any slack there, a fact that seemed to irk him, if only inwardly. “Seriously, are you still mad about Quidditch? I mean –“ he shook his head in disbelief, “I haven’t given you crap in a while. If we’re sharing feelings, I’ll take a venture – I don’t get it. The only reason you even have your position right now is because of me. So don’t act as if I give a damn whether you feel happy or not. You’re not particularly special. You have two jobs – catch the snitch and look over the strategies with me. And to be completely honest, you haven’t even been doing your second job all that often. You’ve more than proven your worth as a seeker, but as a Captain?” He scoffed in wary disappointment, shaking his head. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the term, ‘Respect has to be earned’. So no, I never undermined you. You undermined yourself, if only in your own mind. Under the bleachers was an embarrassment. Yeah, my actions weren’t right, but don’t even pretend yours were either.” He would leave it there, though he had more to say.

“You’ll find,” he continued after a moment of listening, “certain elements bring out the worst in people. There’s something nasty about the way you carry yourself. I can’t say that I’ve seen it before in any other person.” He looked down again solemnly, his voice gruff as he played with his sleeves. “I can’t defend the actions of others, but I can defend their character. And I know Caster’s side of the story, too,” his eyes glistened a little pointedly. Not enough to warrant violence, again, but perhaps to insinuate he knew something he wasn’t supposed to know. “I’ll spare your ego, however. A tale for another day, if you will.”

He quieted himself upon Evelynn’s last initial statement, before speaking up once more. “I disagree with your observations. Speaking negatively of anyone paints them in a bad light, regardless of if you’re venting or not. But if you honestly feel that way, I’ll let you have that. If being a fool is a compliment, I’m thankful. The ideal is reciprocated.” A small, wary smile tugged at his lips. Made to look as if he were trying to shed humor upon the situation. “Listen. I won’t deny my attitude. But don’t even try to deny yours either. I know who you are.” His eyes glinted with something, a sight that would only be visible from the vantage point of the keen-eyed seeker. Would she catch it? “You pretend to be something your not in front of the people you want to accept you. It’s a façade. It’s no wonder you despise those who’ve seen the ugly creature beneath.” Then, straightening his clothes with his hands, he stood once more. “Seriously, some advice. If you want to vent, close the door. I’ve heard from multiple people that DeRook beats on girls.” He glanced at Jackson again… he found it odd, that Evelynn chose to vent with him of all people. Were they familiar with each other? He would have to ask around. “Sorry again… for the Ball. Valentine.” He offered the other a sheepish grin, his eyes sparkling with reluctance. Through and through, no tells to betray him. Perhaps because he’d partially convinced himself that he very much was sorry.

He would situate himself in the opening of the door, hands on the compartment opening as he waited for Anastasia. He would promptly let her have her piece, before taking a moment to see to whatever Evelynn decided to throw back at him. He liked this feeling, of control. Missed it, even. Summer had been wonderful, and because of his dedication to patching up his bleeding heart, he had a tighter grasp on his own impulses. On his persona. She thought he was done screwing with her? Damn wrong. He would take no notice to Vladimir in the hallway until he properly left or was distracted by extreme outward action, instead his eyes anticipating the actions of those in the compartment with him. Knight to F-2. Rook to C-4. Check. What will you have to sacrifice this time?

Action • Unconsciously listening in the hallway.

────────────────────── 𝒜 ──────────────────────

Interacting With: @Rafael D'Spacito | @Evelynn Decipio | @Jackson Valentine
Mentioning: Vladimir Athanatos
Currently closed to interaction other than Evelynn, Rafa, and Jackson
Hex Color: #FF4080
The 'fit
────────────────────── 𝒜 ──────────────────────

For Moderation:

Action: Be very salty, draw wand, listen/look for anything amiss
Health: 500/500
Abilities: Lovely Creature | Fearless | Terrible Presence
Stats: Stamina 5 | Evasion 10 | Strength 5 | Wisdom 9 | Arcane Power 10 | Accuracy 7

Why was everyone being so stupidly stubborn and prideful about the entire situation? Rafa had acknowledged his past wrongdoings, while Evelynn was evidently determined not to apologize or rectify the situation. The irrelevant first year was also annoying Ana because he rather reminded her of a rare fish that had resided in her father's study in past years and seemed to dumbly observe everything without contributing to any of it. She loathed people who lacked the gal to do anything about a situation they were a part of, to be a passenger in their own life. Too much control was a burden, as Ana was discovering, but anything was better than just letting things happen. A different breed of fish than before came to mind, the ones who just swam about with their mouths open, accepting whatever happened to swim in.

"I don't recall ever denying anyone's bravery,"

Ana let out an incredulous scoff. She couldn't even admit to the words they had all heard. Stating that there was a line between stupidity and courage and proceeding to list off perceived fools was most definitely denying people's bravery. Ana would argue that surviving nearly burning alive, dealing with all that had happened in the Beckett household, and braving the Forbidden Forest without a wand after being kidnapped her plenty brave, but who was she to say? After all, unlike the redhead before her, Ana didn't expect others to accept her judgment simply because it came from her. However, while Ana didn't feel particularly inclined to defend her own bravery, that didn't mean she would just accept flat out lies. "Don't insult any of our intelligence by spewing such complete and utter mendacity. Everyone present heard your calumny and aspersions, so at least have the decency not to treat us as fools, whatever your personal perceptions may be," Ana fired back calmly. Perhaps calm wasn't the right description, given the fact that every cell of her being was waiting for an excuse to meaningfully retaliate for their rudeness towards Rafa. Her anger was white-hot, and she was more than happy to take any opportunity to share. Her stomach twisted slightly at the continuation of the discussion of what had happened at the ball, although she couldn't pinpoint why.

Ana couldn't pretend to endorse the fact that Rafa had physically struck Evelynn, so she opted to stay silent on that particular matter. Despite the fact that the subject wasn't something she liked to dwell on, she was hardly one to judge anyone on that particular issue. She had done worse than simply striking another person on more than one occasion, which she was painfully aware of. Ana was flawed, but nobody could ever reasonably say she didn't know her flaws or that she presented herself as some epitome of morality. The same couldn't be said for some of the other people occupying that compartment.

"Pray tell, who exactly are the fine people? Of those I every single one of them shares a tendency for unreasonable violence and breaking of school rules."

This earned another scoff from Ana. For all anyone else knew, she was the model of good behavior. After all, beyond rumors, there was little evidence of the fact she bent the rules when it suited her. Granted, the rumors were mostly based in fact, even if they exaggerated a bit. This year had taught her to take such whispers with a grain of salt as well as disregard those who formed opinions about near-strangers based on the aforementioned whispers. "Those in glass houses ought not to be so quick to throw stones," Ana observed, trying to get some sort of meaningful control over her temper. Evelynn might not have the reputation Ana or Rafa did, but she had apparently been the one to cast first at Rafa in their fabled confrontation and she had been at the Secret Blossom Ball with the rest of them. "Unless you've personally witnessed each person on that list exhibit such behaviors more than once and you yourself have perfectly followed all the rules, forgive me if I don't put too much weight in the judgments you so flippantly hand out as though they are fact."

"...There is a difference between venting, which is a sharing with someone of confidence a situation that has happened to you in order to sort out your thoughts and feelings; and talking behind someone's back in which you try to chip away their dignity... You have both played the role of bully in the school..."

"Oh, certainly, because declaring people who aren't present to argue fools isn't an assault on their dignity and reputation in the slightest," Ana said drily. She noted the pointed glance at where Ana's hand rested on Rafa's arm and rolled her eyes internally. People were determined to focus on anything other than dealing with the fact they were caught in a lie, it seemed. Ana didn't dignify her alleged bullying with a reply. If making people stop spreading rumors that Ana murdered her parents made Ana a bully, so be it. Ana would argue that the people spreading such rumors were the ones to be called bullies in that situation, but she wasn't remotely inclined to justify herself to Decipio or some random fish boy. If this were a matter of schoolyard rumors about Ana's own name, she would have simply ignored it. She wasn't here to defend herself or her actions, she was here for Rafa.

"I want no trouble with either of you. You should both get out."

Ana laughed incredulously as Fish Boy spoke. First off, Valentine? Seriously? Was that his last name or his first name? And in any event, why would he introduce himself as such? Ana of all people was something of an expert on names that warranted a bit of judgment, which was why, unless it was utterly unavoidable, she didn't walk around introducing herself as Lady Anastasia Blair Marie Katherine Alexandra Sophia Isabella Ann Beckett IV. Valentine reminded her of chubby angels and chocolates, and in her opinion, was somehow less dignified than Fish Boy, and she was most definitely going to continue addressing him with that moniker to give him any chance to be taken seriously. "Oh, I would positively love to see you make us," she said, her attention turning back to him and eyes sparkling dangerously.

His movement caused her to slowly, almost lazily remove her own wand from her pocket. It wasn't threatening and she didn't even point it at him. As if bored, she began to tap it against her leg. Her message was more than clear though - I won't hesitate to cast if given a reason. Rafa had a similar reaction, although he seemed slightly less inclined to get into a confrontation than his companion. While Rafa had stated he wasn't going to hit Valentine, Ana bit back a comment about her being more than happy to. She was more than prepared to do that or worse if she deemed it necessary, but she supposed she ought not to try to actively provoke either of the other two. "And you say that your words had no effect on our dignity? You've convinced this poor, feeble-minded first year that we're such terrifying figures that we necessitate hexes simply by virtue of entering a room," Ana cooed as though she was talking about a small child being afraid of a monster under their bed. Whether or not the unfamiliar boy was in fact a first-year was beyond Ana's concern. It was a relatively safe guess based on his height and the fact that she didn't recognize him as a member of the year beneath her own.

Rafa most definitely had Ana's complete agreement on the subject of being ordered around. Ana rarely took kindly to such treatment, especially not from people who had no valid reason to do so. Her long term problems with her parents had boiled down to that issue, and that had culminated in Ana getting disowned. Just like Ana's uncle and so many others, Decipio seemed to either not know exactly who she was dealing with or not care. Neither was wise.

Rafa's commentary about Decipio's abilities as a captain earned side-eye from Ana that lasted for a split second before her gaze settled back on Fish Boy. While Ana obviously didn't work as closely with her as Rafa did, she had thought Evelynn to be a decent enough captain. Unless there was something major she was missing, Rafa's attack on that matter seemed somewhat unwarranted. While Ana had exactly zero qualms with personal jabs, but hers were always based in the truth. That was definitely something to press Rafa about when she had a moment and had dealt with whatever was happening here.

Wand now spinning lazily in her fingers the way a Muggle student might spin a pencil, Ana's gaze traveled the compartment once more. While her movements with her wand might be perceived as fidgeting or something comfortable, a glance at the rest of her body language would tell an observer she was anything but. While her stance was fairly open, and neither hand looked particularly ready for combat, she was tense, seemingly ready to pounce at any provocation. "It's truly disappointing that either of you would feel comfortable engaging in such behavior and then attempt to justify it when confronted. Say what you wish about either of us, at least we don't present ourselves as some paragon or completely neglect to share any personal biases that are informing our perspectives until pressed," Ana said.

Rafael seemed ready to put a cork in this, but Ana certainly wasn't. Still, her thoughts drifted back to the boy in the hall for a moment, and her attention shifted slightly to make certain nothing was amiss. If something was wrong, she could always resume schoolyard (technically school train, if she was being picky) squabbles. Still, unless forced from the compartment, she wasn't remotely inclined to leave just yet.

You messed with the wrong Firstie.
@Rafael D'Spacito @Anastasia Beckett @Evelynn Decipio

Anastasia was rather careless for someone jabbing her fingers into a shark’s jaws. Valentine and her father’s fish were wise in that way. They didn’t fight the current when it came, but followed it and adapted as was necessary. Contentment and restraint when matters did not demand action were the values they exhibited, values which Beckett seemed to have little understanding of. There was a distinct difference between expecting things to happen and allowing things to happen. Moreover, Ana had made one crucial mistake. She had seen his deliberate stillness and assumed it to be inaction, missing his intention entirely. He was steeling his nerves, stoking the fire within. Perhaps it was fate that drew him to the inevitable, although he was someone who knew conflict always came. He even raced toward it at times.

For now, though, he rose; slow, deliberate, with no meaningful change of the direction of his wand. Yet she would know he was readying himself. The First Year had a presence to him that was unmistakable, and though he might be as light-footed as a demigod, he hid little else. He turned his head slowly toward Ana, as though he were some creepy animatronic rather than a human being. The strength of youth was reflected in his eyes, the temper of experience in his expression, and yet, there was a certain mayhem to him that told her he knew exactly what she wanted; and that he looked forward to it.

He didn't sense any malice from Rafael, at least for the moment. Beckett, on the other hand, looked nearly as nervous as himself, but there was an inkling of conviction in her words. She would follow through with that threat, he surmised.

"This is something you do often then?" The tone of his voice changed. He reached into his front jacket pocket with his free hand and pulled out a strange, ornate-looking rose with petals as black as pitch. Raising it to his nose, he inhaled its giddy aroma, before resting it on the window ledge behind him, safely out of harm’s way. A shift of a foot revealed something else, the expert footwork of a duelist. Unbeknownst to many of his housemates, Valentine had sought the tutelage of a Slytherin girl who had offered to train him in the abandoned classrooms. It was at times like this that he was grateful for the time he had put into practice.

“Fine. If you insist on staying, I’ll leave. After I teach you some manners.”

Seriously, what kind of person insulted and threatened a stranger they’d just met?

Reducio

Actions for this Round:

Actively Dodging