Night One PV

It was downright pandemonium in the cabin. Bubba was finally oriented and the best he could tell everyone bar him was infected with poison ivy. He decided he would take his time revealing this fact to the world because he knew someone would blame him even though, logically, it was clearly because he hadn't made it to his bed. He was quite sure if he had he would be suffering like everyone else.

His eyes had clearly not been playing tricks on him based on the cacophony of noise around him. His roommate Aamon was obviously under the misimpression that you could soothe poison ivy with mayonnaise which was patently incorrect, the only use for mayonnaise was ruining a perfectly good sandwich. Nabi and Winnie were obviously suffering as well but at least Winnie was doling out the calamine lotion to try and mitigate the symptoms. Bubba was used to poison ivy from the number of times he'd had to retrieve his baseball but he was still very glad he didn't have it in this instance.

Then, it happened. Something he would never be able to unsee, that would be seared into his memory until the moment he shuffled off this mortal coil. Winnie had screamed and in reaction, Matthias had emerged from their bedroom tackle out. Winnie was upset because he was using her pillow to conceal his giblets but Bubba approved and made it known, "Oh good God please, Nana would understand because no one wants to see Matthias' baseball equipment right now."

He couldn't prove it but he knew who did this, he just knew. His mind immediately went back to Matthew creeping his and Aamon's room with that vial of 'anxiety salve'. Anxiety salve his ass, it was so obvious. And so, he finally answered Winnie's question. "I do not, I never made it to bed and it looks like I was spared by falling asleep out here." He weighed in his mind whether he should let his accusation fly or not. Internally he said fuck it and let it out, "I'm pretty sure I know who's responsible for this."

Interacting: @Winnie Harper
Mentioning: @N/A

“Would you like some mayonnaise?” Aamon's voice was meant to be enticing, and encouraging. Unfortunately for him, it had the exact opposite effect on Avis. She hated that voice. It was too soft, too uneasy.

Too much like a proper Athanatos.

Too much like Gideon, encouraging her to stab herself in the hand. She frowned, frustrated with herself. What an idiot. Well, she wasn't going to be an idiot now. She accepted the jar, but held it at arm's length, as if it were a ticking grenade and she was waiting to throw it.

He then turned his attention to Avis' roommate, and Avis cringed. Aamon was...not great at the whole flirting thing, and it was clear as he tried to help his wonderful crush. He was good at the persuading thing, she had to admit, although that fact did nothing to ease her anxiety. She internally winced as he tried to wipe mayonnaise on the girl, sure that Nabi, proper pureblood Nabi, would find the whole thing moronic and deny the attempt. Except it didn't Her mouth almost fell open as Nabi was relaxed, appreciating the mayo, and that convinced Avis. If it worked for Nabi it would work for her. Her previous itching had not helped in the slightest, and it felt like not only was she on fire, but that fire was on fire as well.

She was moments away from digging into the mayo - Winnie still hadn't given her calamine lotion - but Aamon took the jar back from her, and that goodness for that, as he soon began to whimper. Part of Avis melted and wanted to tackle Winnie, take the calamine lotion, and dump it on both her and him. But the other part of her relished the whimper, that Aamon was still a giant glass teddy bear, that he still might need her help, that he wasn't really an Athanatos.

She had seen his face earlier today (yesterday?) when she had walked into the cabin. That look of utter relief, and that's what she wanted. Half of Avis wanted to help and wanted all of Aamon's problems to be solved, and the other half wanted his situation to always be just bad enough that he would look at her like she was an angel. Not just Aamon, though, everyone.

Avis wanted to be the beacon of light, and the darker it is, the brighter the light looks.

Avis bit her lip, banishing that thought back to the dungeons of her thoughts. The half that wanted to help and wanted solutions would win. It had to. She’d make sure of it.

Winnie, thankfully, seemed to have control of the situation, FINALLY offering Avis calamine lotion. She hungrily followed the path of the miracle solution until it landed in her hands, halfway registering Aamon putting the mayo back in the icebox. As quickly as she could, she slathered the lotion on her arms and legs, visibly sagging as her muscles stopped screaming at her to itch them.

There was no need for Winnie to cover her eyes. Avis, like a good little girl, was already turned away, digging in the icebox for the jar of mayo. This was absurd, and this was going to get real awkward real quick. The only solution, in Avis' eyes, was a complete and utter distraction. Thankfully, there was one within arms reach.

As Mathias disappeared back into his room, Avis pulled a large glob of mayo out of the slimy jar, almost gagging at the sight of the condiment micing with the calamine lotion on her hands. With a soft underhanded lob, she tossed the open jar grenade to Nabi. The theory being, the well-put-together girl wouldn't be able to ignore the jar and wouldn't let the mayo destroy the beautiful floor, even if it was already covered with Aamon's attempts. Without looking to see if Nabi caught it, she turned to Bubba, chucking the pink tinged goop at him.

He wasn't covered in any sort of slimey glop yet, it was only fair.

If anyone looked at her accusingly, she would innocently hide her mayo covered hand behind her back and point at Nabi with the other, mouth open in a mock gasp. If they started to speak and it seemed aimed at her, she would try to interrupt them with a dramatic "Nabi! How could you?"

@Winnie Harper, @Aamon Athanatos, @Mathias Pride,@Nabi Park, @Bubba McGarry

Aamon had gone through many emotions in the span of a few minutes. First, the confusion of awakening from a perfectly sound slumber from an agonizing itch. He had not cleared his
bed of poison ivy, he did not know that his bed was infected. While he was far too uptight to sleep in the nude (unlike some), the dried leaves found their way into his waistband, under his shirt, even beneath the cuffs of his sleep pants.

Second was the betrayal of discovering that mayonnaise was not a magical cure-all but, in fact, an incredibly bad idea for poison ivy relief. The cool temperature and the sensorial intake of something running over his skin alleviated the itch too temporarily. As soon as the friction ended, the itch would return in painful waves. He did not think breakfast food (oatmeal) would be any better, but there was the pink lady's magical pink cream.

Third was the existential horror of realizing Mathias was not the culprit, which meant someone else was out there, lurking in the shadows, planting itchy vengeance in their sheets. Not that he knew it was in his sheets but Bubba mentioned that he was fine and felt that this was because he slept in the common room. The Ravenclaw did not name a culprit but Bubba felt he knew what was happening and more importantly who was responsible.

Finally—absolute and utter terror at witnessing Mathias Pride, his older brother who exploded into the common room like an avenging warlord, nude and enraged with nothing but a pillow for dignity. And there was not much dignity to be had. The full moon of Matt's departure just added indignity to the evening, before he emerged wearing a bed sheet. He saw the rash of poison ivy across his brother ass. OK, confirmed. Matt was not the villain for once.

Aamon’s brain shut down.

Aamon's body, however, did not.

Aamon screamed. Again. Like a proper man facing mortal danger.

If the Athanatos could have moved, he would have thrown himself behind the nearest couch. Instead, Aamon froze in place, slick with mayo, blinking like an owl who had just been hit with a Lumos to the face. Stunned, he just stood there.

Winnie's poor, poor Nana-embroidered pillow. It would need to be bleached then burned.

Somewhere in the chaos, Winnie was yelling, Bubba was making quips about baseball equipment (which Aamon did not understand nor did he want to unpack), Nabi looked like she was contemplating abandoning society altogether, and Avis—dear, sweet, allegedly normal Avis—had just cried "Nabi! How could you?!"

Avis knew who did this? Aamon let out an audible gasp of betrayal. The idiot teen, still covered in mayonnaise, took a step back, clutching his own chest like he had just been personally victimized by everything happening here tonight. In his defense, he was among the vast number of victims.

"Everyone has lost their minds!" Aamon declared, spinning in place, mayonnaise flinging dramatically off his arms. "I—I came here expecting a nice, peaceful evening—” (this was a lie, but he would commit to it)—“and instead, I wake up covered in rash and regret! I trusted Mathias to be the evil one, and now he’s naked and Nabi rashed me!” He missed Avis lobbing the mayo jar at Bubba and jumped to an even worse conclusion than Nabi the Mayo tosser, assuming that Avis was claiming that Nabi was the villainess. Avis would never lie or do anything shady, she was no snake, she was a bird!

"Well us," Aamon self-corrected before he remembered Campbell. Aamon's mayo-covered hand covered his mouth as he realized the Slytherin was missing. Was he still in the room with Giddy? He tried to make eye contact, Aamon's mismatched eyes boring into Nabi's. "Did you get your boyfriend too?" He was referencing Matthew Campbell, a muggly wizard so left unnamed since it was pretty obvious that it was supposed to be a secret. Why would she do that? He needed mayonnaise, no pink stuff too!

But first, what to do.

Aamon turned to Bubba, wide-eyed and desperate. "Bubba. Buddy. You’re normal. What do we do?" It was a lot easier when Mathias was the bad guy. he was a bad person, it was easy to be mad at him. But Nabi, she was a girl. Girls don't do bad things.

Aamon needed a plan. Aamon needed justice.

Also, Aamon needed to go wash off the mayo before it curdled on his skin.

Mathias had woken up from a dead sleep—naked, itchy, and filled with murderous vengeance—only to be horrifically exposed to his entire goddamn cabin. He had charged out, a glorious, gleaming warlord dead set on avenging his dying bride in nothing but an embroidered pillow, declared murder, realized his bits were on full display, and then full-mooned the entire retreat before stomping back into his room to fashion a makeshift toga from Winnie’s very pink blanket. It did not make his ass any less itchy and the longer he stood there, the more confused he became. Winnie was in no danger, she screamed because she sat on another man's lap. The hell Winnie?

Now?

Now Mathias was standing in the middle of absolute fucking chaos.

Pride's brother—his complete and utter disgrace of a brother, Aamon—was standing there, covered in mayo like some tragic deli-born creature, screaming about betrayal and rash-induced war crimes as if his brother hadn't just slathered himself in sandwich spread like a lunatic. The only thing greater than his stupidity was how loudly he vocalized his idiocy. It was as if being stupid was meaningless if nobody else knew.

Then there was Winnie's new 'friend' that she had 'met' at St. Mungos. A patient? A visitor? A weirdo that liked to spend school holidays looking at the less fortunate, injured and potentially dying. The public thought the Athanatos family was a bunch of monsters, but even Gideon was not that evil. Regardless, Bubba, the grumpiest bastard alive, was sitting there, looking far too pleased with himself, somehow untouched by the wrath of poison ivy like the smug survivor of a shipwreck. More like the survivor who was on a rowboat an hour before the crew discovered their ship was taking water.

Nabi and Avis had something weird going on. That was probably how women were. They probably shared shoes while bickering. Ugh, Chicks. Thankfully Winnie was not a girl, she was a Winnie. Speaking of Winnie—poor, rash-covered Winnie—was staring at him with equal parts horror and exhaustion. The pillow was fine, he was clean. He showered yesterday and doused himself in cologne at least five times yesterday.

Mathias took a slow, deliberate breath, then turned to Aamon, his own flesh and blood, his IDIOT younger sibling, who was now looking at Bubba like the man had the answers to the great mysteries of the universe. How the guy could go from condiment remedies to blind trust for strangers in the same breath was beyond Mathias. There was no way Aamon was going to survive until his seventh year.

With the unmistakable presence of an older brother who had just lost all faith in his lineage, Mathias strode towards his Slytherin brother. Aamon was tall for his age, less lanky but Mathias was taller. His lean presence shadowed over the first year. Mathias reached out, grabbed Aamon’s mayonnaise-slick face in both hands, and squeezed.

“Aamon,” Mathias said, voice low and dripping with menace. “You—are—a fucking—imbecile.” Each word spaced evenly, his voice was cold and unforgiving. The phrase would be familiar to the pre-teen, it was not the first time he heard it, probably not the first time he was reminded even today.

[Godmod allowed] Aamon blinked up at him, mouth opening to protest, but Mathias just gave his cheeks another condescending squeeze, causing more mayo to drip disgustingly down his chin. The terrible tactile sense of the mayo pressing into his skin caused Pride's stomach to churn.

“Mayo. Mayo." Mathias' voice was pure, unfiltered disdain. "Let me get this straight. You woke up itching—a logical person’s first reaction might have been, oh, I don’t know, to try the calamine lotion that Winnie was literally handing out—but not you. No, you, Aamon, decided, and I quote, that the answer was to marinate yourself in egg paste like some fucking cursed salad."

[Godmod allowed] Aamon let out a huffy, indignant noise that might have been an attempt at a rebuttal, but Mathias didn’t let his brother get that far. Mathias wiped his hands down Aamon’s face one last time in an unnecessary display of dominance, leaving a nice, thick streak of mayo behind as a parting gift. His hazel eyes flicked towards the girl that seemed rather cold towards his brother. "Unless that girl," he had not bothered to remember the irrelevant girl's name, "was spending unnecessary time in your bed, I doubt she did a damn thing."

Then, Mathias turned to Bubba, who was still sitting there, arms crossed, looking way too fucking smug. Who the hell was this guy anyways?

Bubba McGarry, who had no rash. Unlike the rest of them. In fact, everyone in this room appeared to be afflicted. Mathias had forgotten that Matthew Campbell, another irrelevant in his mind, even existed and he would not have let Giddy anywhere near his room or Winnie. By being utterly uninteresting, Matt had completely evaded suspicion and notice. He was probably being tortured while they spoke in the room he shared with Giddy. There are short straws and then there was whatever the hell Campbell drew.

Bubba McGarry, who had just casually mentioned that he knew who did this. And how would this Ravenclaw know that? Did one of the girls admit this to him and infect themselves in the process? Ha! They might be a bunch of dumb girls, but even they did not seem so dumb.

Mathias’ eyes narrowed. Bubba was Pride's number one suspect. When did this weird little Ravenclaw get into his fiance's bed? A flare of unreasonable jealousy ran through him.

“Alright,” Mathias said, voice smooth, dangerous. Wiping his still greasy hands on his pink toga as if he had some strange semblance of dignity. Matt stepped forward, arms crossed over his toga-clad chest, dark eyes locking onto the Ravenclaw like a predator about to strike.

“You seem real confident about who’s behind this, Bubba.” Pride remembered this guy's name. He tilted his head. “Tell me—who exactly am I killing?”

Pride's fingers twitched, itching for a wand, a sword, any weapon with which to exact retribution. Because someone had done this to him. To Winnie. To his already-moronic brother. To these random girls he really did not care about.

| Note: Thoughts, Speech, Avis, Mother, Aamon, Boram, Mathias, Bubba |

Nabi had been deep in thought when she noticed an object from the corner of her eye. She turned to look just as it made its way toward her and instinctively reached out to catch it; the jar of mayonnaise was covered with the condiment and her hands covered in the calamine lotion did not help her situation. The jar would slip from her hands— falling with a sharp and sudden crash, causing her to flinch as her hands shook. The sound reminded her of something her mother had told her some time ago, 'Anyone can break like this porcelain vase, even you...'

I have control, I am no vase.

Her ears burned pink as she looked at the jar in thought, the events of that time flooding her mind, oblivious to the scene around her. That was until the young Avis gasped, "Nabi! How could you?" Looking up to see Avis pointing at Nabi, she blinked back into reality, her previous paranoia mixed with silent anger momentarily before snapping out of it. Noting Avis standing by the icebox, she cleared her throat before saying calmly, "My apologies, I did not catch the jar, Miss Avis..." She wants to get a reaction, "I will clean up the mess."

Nabi was about to reach down and pick up the pieces when she heard Aamon yell, "Everyone has lost their minds!" she looked at him and watched as the mayonnaise flew off of him, The one who is acting hysterical is you. Nabi raised an eyebrow in response to his accusation and began to think she may just slap the soul out of him. Her gray cold eyes locked onto his, unbothered by his pathetic attempt to intimidate her, he was just a fearful fawn.

For now.

"Did you get your boyfriend too?" Nabi's eyes narrowed, her jaw clenching slightly, either he is the biggest idiot or he is excellent at feigning stupidity. Her anger returned momentarily, causing a mild itch on her uninfected hand.

She was not her cousin, Nabi had control.

Maintaining eye contact, her voice was low and stern, drastically different from her usual flat tone. "Mr. Campbell is not my boyfriend, Mr. Athanatos. Perhaps you should ask first before making such baseless assumptions." Her gaze shifted to Avis, who had thrown the jar of mayonnaise at her, weighing her choices.

Nabi was not a fighter, not one to harm someone.

But goodness was it tempting.

'Beware of the calm dog' the warning echoed in her mind as Nabi continued to look at Avis. The young witch was cunning— simulating innocence with a practiced ease, but a wolf dressed in a sheep's coat is still a wolf in the end.

Sometimes the best option is to put down a rabid dog. Nabi's expression was stoic, her gray eyes devoid of emotion. Mother could be correct, fear may be useful. Perhaps Nabi would twist an arm...

Perhaps not.

The seed of something more meticulous was planted in her mind as Nabi chose to wait for the young Avis to show her cards before deciding what to do with her.

Returning her gaze onto Aamon. Nabi watched as the shameless boy, who had covered himself with a pink blanket, grabbed Aamon's face. She was silent, observing the young man's interaction, his tone perilous as he called Aamon an imbecile. Nabi raised her eyebrow as Mathias rubbed his hands on Aamon's face as if proving some sort of point. He acts like a caveman... Her eyes looked up at the tall and flagrant teen, "Unless that girl, was spending unnecessary time in your bed, I doubt she did a damn thing." Why would I be in Mr. Athanatos' bed?

Her ears turned pink, looking away as she pushed away the indecorous thought. For shame! Nabi blinked away her thoughts, Bloody hell, why am I even thinking of this- this fool?.... think of something else, quickly! She heard the caveman speak again, this time directed to the grumpy boy who Winnie had woken up. She looked back at the grumpy boy, his expression determined, "I'm pretty sure I know who's responsible for this."

Does this boy know or is he like Aamon, going by a hunch?

"Tell me—who exactly am I killing?" she raised her eyebrow and looked over at Winnie. Walking past Aamon and giving him a look of this is not over. Nabi stood beside Winnie, giving the girl a gentle tap on the shoulder before whispering, "He is just being dramatic... right Miss?"

Noticing Matthias' slight twitch of a hand, Nabi hummed softly to herself, perhaps someone should look into getting rid of evidence if the young man is being serious... Whispering once more, her eyes looked toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms, "We are also missing two people..." A faint feeling of betrayal bubbled inside her as she thought of the other two missing suspects, Surely, Mr. Campbell would not have done it...

If only she knew...

Oh, the lecture her mother would have right about now.