"This is our long-term resident ward. For permanent spell damage, you know. Of course, with intensive remedial potions, charms and a bit of luck, we can produce some improvement...."

| April 14th, 2024|

| @Jack Warren |

| Continued from Masquerade / Ophthalmos |

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	Medical facilities had always unsettled Pericles, but that grim spring night served to solidify his hatred of them. As he crept along the winding halls of St. Mungo's, he was subjected to the sensory nightmare of his hospital gown's harsh fabric and the maddeningly ever-present pressure of the bandage over his right eye. Despite the cleaning crew's best effort to create an atmosphere both sterile and comforting, the air was stuffy with the stink of formaldehyde and cheap candles. A strained moan sounded from one of the rooms he crossed, wails that rose then fell with the ebb and wane of pain, while a hysterically sobbing witch passed him by without sparing him so much as a glance. Hospitals were intended as places of healing, yet all he witnessed was grief. Peri pressed on despite his mounting apprehension and loss of depth perception. He walked with his hand gliding against the wall while he went. Disregarding all uncertainty, he was on his way to find the person who put him here. Both boys were currently residents of the fourth floor's Janus Thickey Ward. While the Ravenclaw was scheduled to be sent back to school in the morning, he'd heard the Hufflepuff was due to be kept for far longer, if he ever left at all. Pericles had lost an eye and Jack had lost his mind. The details of why they'd suffered these fates were still surfacing, though he had at least been filled in on what transpired after his injury and subsequent escape. His own memory was tarnished by shock. He remembered seeing Warren looking for something in the dirt, only to realize all too late- once he was in arm's reach- that he was digging. He remembered the jolt of dread on seeing fingers scraped raw, nails splintered from clawing at soil, and something staring back at them from the earth. He remembered the fireworks going off in his skull as Aly screamed. He remembered clinging to Eve as she flew them from the scene, and the haunting bellow of an elk echoing from what seemed like all sides. Little that transpired before or after stuck with him. Pericles had been told that there was a parasite in Jack's head, something driving him to dig, inspiring violent intentions for any unfortunate who got in his way. Dealla and Meenauh had apparently vanquished it. How it got there, how long he'd suffered with it, and whose bones were buried on Hogwarts grounds remained mysteries. As he understood it, Jack wasn't going to be in any condition to give him the answers he wanted. Pericles had tried and failed to sleep. There would be no rest for him without seeing for himself. Spying his aimless wandering, a maginurse was kind enough to ask if he was lost. "I'm looking for a friend," the wizard lied. He'd never known Jack well enough to make a friend or enemy of him. His impression was based in only their short time as prefects together, the vague knowledge that he had broken up with Dee, and that Aly considered him a dirtbag for it. Those ties felt irrelevant in the moment. What now towered at the forefront was this irreparable damage some malignant entity had wreaked on their lives. Pointed in a direction, he tentatively approached the right room, fingers coiled around the wand in his pocket. Pericles lingered in the doorway, squinting into the dimly lit room towards the still figure bound to a bed. "Jack...?" His voice was reduced to a low murmur, flat and dour. "Can you hear me, Jack?"
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April 14th, 2024

A heavy stillness enveloped the room, suffocating any energy and replacing it with a stagnant, eerie atmosphere. Long shadows cut their visage across the tile floors, but even in the suffocating room, a small ray of sunlight cut through the drawn curtains. Sharp like a knife, the light cut a gentle glow across his cheek and jaw. Jack almost looked peaceful in his docile state. It was a distinct change in who he was merely days ago. The anger and vitriol are now nothing but aether, replaced with a hollow emptiness. His eyes were half-lidded, and he looked worse for wear. They were deeply sunken, resembling two dark bruises developed from months, if not years, of sleep deprivation. The boy's eyes remained fixed on the ceiling above him, his listless gaze occasionally interrupted by the blink of his eyelids, the only proof that his synapses hadn't completely burned out. Jack was held firmly in place by heavy restraints that crossed his chest and arms and were fastened to the bed beneath him. They were unsure if he posed a risk to his own safety or that of the others around him, prompting swift precautionary measures to ensure no more eyes would be lost anytime soon.

The waves of oblivion threatened to lap over the boy's ears. No matter how soft oblivion's caress was, a small part of his mind didn't want to fade away into the dark. So instead of sinking, Jack lazily floated, letting himself be ushered down the river toward unconditional respite. Strange, non-Euclidean creatures drifted past his eyeline as the great redwood trees sprouted towards the sky. Though there wasn't a blue serenity that usually sat dauntingly above the giant canopy, instead a simple-looking ceiling. Soft yellows and oranges burst around him like spiralling clouds, and the focus on the room above him faded again. A soft question brushed through the shifting leaves, 'Jack…?' the voice of the wind whispered. 'Can you hear me, Jack?' but alas, the Hufflepuff had already drifted too far downstream for the voice to pull him from the river. Jack only wanted to rest now.

Jack's dark eyes slowly fluttered at his victim's voice. Jack was there, and he was aware, but the boy just wasn't able or ready to respond as of yet. Still, he did not move, no visible reaction to the newcomer in his room. 

@Pericles Dralt

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	There was nothing quite like the scorn of a vicariously jilted roommate, slash stabbing victim. As Pericles cautiously closed the gap between them, right arm reaching blindly, he looked down at Jack Warren with an ugly mix of pity and resentment. That mask of trademark tranquility was removed in its entirety. Although those dark eyes were open, it was clear no one was home. The Ravenclaw cast a glance at the door before furtively skimming the Hufflepuff's medical chart. Peri's scowl deepened. From what was written, the caregivers were unable to determine if Jack would ever recover, and how could he after that creature crawled around in his skull for Merlin knew how long? Horrible things kept happening to the children of Hogwarts and going unresolved. This was looking like another dead end, another unsolved mystery, another irredeemable tragedy on an already towering stack of misfortunes. It didn't stop his visitor from at least trying to elicit a response, grasping for the closure Jack was incapable of providing. "The surgery was quick." His tone was nonchalant, albeit not in the relaxed sense. Pericles' voice rang hollow as he slipped a finger under the bandage. Gingerly, he slid it to his forehead, blinking to clear the pressure. His right eyelid opened and closed over a grotesque cavern of pink flesh and red veins. It was a sight he'd doggedly hidden from all others, but he wanted Warren to see it. "They sutured implants to the socket muscles, to give the lid volume and help me move an artificial eye, when it's done being made. Don't worry. I can't..." the pad of his pointer finger pulled down on the lower lid, exposing the mechanisms bound to the meat inside. "...feel a thing." Try as he may to stir some reaction, anything at all, Jack could give him no more than the occasional twitch. Disappointed but unsurprised, Pear pulled the patch back into place and attempted another route."Don't worry about Dee, either. She wasn't hurt. Not physically, at least, but I heard she cried all night in Aly's bed." Even that wasn't enough to bring the boy back. Wherever he was, Pericles hoped it wasn't too peaceful. Otherwise why return to the terrors of reality? Another short look was shot towards the doorway. Evidently the witch he'd passed on his way wasn't aware of their correlation, but he wagered the staff wouldn't want him looming by the bedside of his attacker, fruitlessly tormenting him. His head shook as Pericles reached an inevitable forfeit. Nostrils flared with a deep sigh, face settling for something tired while he moved to the edge of the bed. His hands rose, hesitated, then closed around the bedsheet and drew it up to the bound patient's collar, tucking him in against the ward's creeping chill. Through a bitter mutter Pear declared: "You need to get better, Jack. We need to find whoever did this to us."
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| @Jack Warren | Mentioning @Dealla Prince & @Aly Salinger | Exiting scene |