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Gryffindor: 170 |
Slytherin: 48 |
Ravenclaw: 880 |
Hufflepuff: 1022 |
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Date: January 16th, 2013
Today's Forecast: The air is reminiscent of spring. The snow, turning slowly into a fine carpet of slush, is slowly disappearing after a decidedly warm spell. |
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It is now: Year 7 - Day 4 - Free Period
Happening now: Azkaban Trip Breakfast is now out of time. Feel free to continue all plots as planned. Feel free to finish all plots out of time. |
| Next: Day 4: Quidditch Practice or Dinner |
| Read Today's Daily Prophet: Knights of Walpurgis attack Hogwarts; Belleford steps down as Hogwarts closes until further notice |
| Welcome to Hogwarts Interactive Role Play, one of the net's best in Harry Potter and Hogwarts role plays. We hope you enjoy your visit. Here at Hogwarts our students are currently in their Seventh Year. Last year, the war against the Knights crescendoed into a direct attack against the school. Disappearances are still reported (or not) daily, and the Dark Lord and his Knights of Walpurgis have succeeded in spreading their message of "do as thou will" far and wide across the globe. Magical Law Enforcement, which is now the only authority in the wizarding world under Martial Law, has responded by tightening security, controlling the media, and strictly enforcing curfews and other laws. Their control is damaging to the people's freedom, and their hierarchy is a suspicious lot. It is clear that some members of the MLE like their new found power a bit too much, others see it necessary, but all are in serious danger of being consumed by it. But with the picture of just what Azariah Amaranth is after becoming ever clearer, and a third player in the form of a group called SAVIOR entering the scene, what will the MLE do next to ensure that they've got the situation under control? The Elementium, the Higher Plane that had once been hidden just beyond the veil in the Department of Mysteries, and the Deathly Hallows. The pieces of the puzzle have been identified, but what picture do they make? Today is Day 1 of Year Seven. Students have had time to recover from the Knight's attack, and are beginning to reluctantly return to the walls of Hogwarts. The safety of the school has been diminished, bringing up the question everyone must ask. Are you safe anywhere these days? It's up to each individual to decide their fate, where will you decide to go? You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. If you are interested in joining our forum as a role player, please take a look at the Joining HIRP Checklist (click me!) for an easy-to-follow guide on how to join! Click here to register! Await your email confirmation before you can post. If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| First Floor Corridors; Year 6 - Day 2 - Halloween Feast | |
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| Topic Started: Jan 13 2011, 07:50:07 PM (484 Views) | |
| Katrina Zakarin | Jan 13 2011, 07:50:07 PM Post #1 |
Sixth Year
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Humming softly to herself, Katrina silently entered the first floor corridors. Surprisingly, Kat had remained out of costume throughout the day. She never wanted to celebrate the holiday in the first place. Her Muggle parents had taught her that celebrating the Devil wasn't a good thing - and she remained to stick by that. There were eye-catching outfits, and even funny Muggle impersonations, but it was not enough to completely change her mind. Her pumps echoed loudly in the corridor. It was completely empty and lifeless, but the echoes filled her mind. She felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. She was alone in the darkness, alone and afraid. Kat slowed to a complete stop and stood in the darkness for a moment. She had thought she heard a faint whisper, a gentle call of her name, but there was no sound other than the click of her heels. Biting down on her lower lip, Katrina continued slowly down the hall. Edited by Katrina Zakarin, Jan 13 2011, 07:51:04 PM.
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we can dance until we die | |
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| Sylvia Mercury | Jan 14 2011, 12:24:13 AM Post #2 |
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The shadows had often been a place for reflection from the world. With her dark hair and shady demeanor, Sylvia had always blended right into tapestries and corners. Especially in the dark, where monsters lurked and innocent couples found their call. A wandering student wouldn't expect danger within the halls of Hogwarts, even at night. The student body generally relied on the security of their professors, or the stone walls which surrounded the school. Not many would suspect a danger coming from within the boundaries of the old castle. In fact, many naive, wizarding families believe there was no safer place than Hogwarts. Of course, this was not true anymore. Yet, students still found themselves wandering the corridors alone at night. It was the perfect opportunity. As the unaware Hufflepuff flounced past Sylvia's hiding place, Jordanna's words echoed in the Slytherin's mind. Tonight. Sylvia smiled a sickening grin. One that could turn the bravest Gryffindor cold. Silently, she drew her wand from the pockets of her black dress. The girl's unfortunate heels prevented her from moving swiftly through the dark hall. The pace she had set was unbearably slow. It would be easy to extinguish her life within seconds. That seemed unnecessary. Sylvia's thirst for another's death seemed too big to rush. Instead of acting right away, the Slytherin drew her simple black cloak around her. With a few choice words, she conjured a feeble, plastic muggle mask for a temporary identity. Within a few moments, she was stripped of anything that identified herself as Sylvia Venus Mercury, the twin. Instead, she was simply a shadow within a white mask. The Hufflepuff was still blissfully unaware. Unaware of the budding danger. With a quiet rustle of her robes, Sylvia drew a simple pocket knife. Sharp enough to draw blood, yet as unsuspicious as one could get. It worked for the situation. A small shiver of excitement ran through her spine as she pushed herself from the wall. For every loud, echoing, yet timid step the Hufflepuff took, Sylvia replied with a silent, gliding one of her own. In one, pale hand hung her knife, ready to attack when her presence was detected. In the other - her wand: a simple defense mechanism. Sylvia didn't want to kill until after she had relayed her anger onto this girl. It simply wouldn't be as satisfying. The tension the hall which had encased around the pair was much more ideal. Sylvia's black hair billowed past her shoulders, while her bangs framed the new, white addition to her features. Only her dead, dark-blue eyes could be seen past the disguise. The girl slid her feet along the corridor, slowly, following what could be her first victim of the night. It was an enchanting site for the wicked. |
 Plot^.^Who I am.^.^.Theme.^.^Yule Ball outfit My other character is Terry Boot. Call me Meg. Thanks, Anna! <3 | |
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| Katrina Zakarin | Jan 14 2011, 12:46:13 AM Post #3 |
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Sixth Year
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What sounded like a faint whisper, something that had interrupted the quietness that Katrina was lurking in. She stopped in her tracks yet again. It must have been her creative imagination, because why would something be following her in an empty corridor? Everyone should be at the feast having a merry time without her. Perhaps it was an immature fourth year trying to scare someone not dressed. Katrina straightened her shoulders and continued silently. Again, she thought she heard the faint click of footsteps in the hall. A pair of feet that weren't hers - something softer, lighter, and more swift. With a churning stomach, the Hufflepuff stopped again and turned to face the darkness behind her. Except, it wasn't the darkness waiting before her. With a sudden jolt, she realized a masked figure walked behind her in the darkness. In the dim light, Kat caught a glimpse of the knife in her hand. That was all she needed to turn and quickly continue down the corridor. Whether the knife and wand at hand were a part of the costume, she knew this must have been reported immediately. Kat glanced behind her again at the dark haired girl. "If this is supposed to be some Halloween joke, it's not funny!" she cried. She glanced one last time at the mysterious girl and began to sprint fiercely down the corridor. Edited by Katrina Zakarin, Jan 14 2011, 12:47:51 AM.
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we can dance until we die | |
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| Precious Hindert | Jan 14 2011, 01:00:30 AM Post #4 |
Seventh Year
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Near the corridor entrance, another figure leaned against the stone-cold walls waiting for her cue. She watched as the frightened victim made a mad dash for the exit, but by that time, Precious had stepped out of the shadows and into the dimly lit corridor. Before the girl could bolt past her, she placed her foot in the girl's path. As predicted, the clumsy girl fell hard onto her stomach. In order to prevent her from getting back onto her feet and escaping, Precious pressed her heel deep into the girl's spine. She turned to Sylvia, who remained masked for now. "You chose wisely," Precious nodded in approval. Under her heel, the Hufflepuff continued to squirm and scream out for help. Not taking any chances, Precious pointed her wand at the girl and muttered, "Silencio." The corridor suddenly became quiet again. With a grin on her lips, she turned to Sylvia. "Be brutal. Have no mercy." Precious removed her heel from Katrina's back and took a couple steps back to witness what potential Sylvia had. Edited by Precious Hindert, Jan 14 2011, 01:02:20 AM.
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| Sylvia Mercury | Jan 16 2011, 03:03:44 AM Post #5 |
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Squirming seemed to be the Hufflepuff's speciality, especially underneath Precious Hindert's foot. The girl's silent screams and struggle would be of little use for her safety. There was no escape now. Not for the pink-haired foolishness that had overcome the girl. "Be brutal. Have no mercy." Precious announced her blessing. As if it mattered to Sylvia. Death would present itself to anyone who crossed the wrong path that night, regardless of their standing. Either they were with her, or they weren't. Tonight, Sylvia was pulling the strings. Silence was not a barrier to escape. Precious may have blocked the door, but she had removed her heal from the girl's spine. This gesture could cost them their victim if she was quick in the mind. Judging by the current scenario, however, the Hufflepuff had checked in her brain at the shoe store. Or before. It was never sensible to walk in heels as high as hers. The pair left her vulnerable to danger. As the girl struggled, perhaps in the idea to get up - Sylvia made her move. With her wand, she shot a simple binding charm. A black ribbon laced itself around the girls flailing hands, tying them together. It was enough so the victim could not fight back with her wand. Before the girl could move, she swooped in and pushed her to the ground with a foot. Kneeling down, she peered at the frightened human with her dead eyes. "Should of thought twice before wandering out tonight. What gave you the idea you would be safe?" Sylvia's voice was soft and deadly. It almost felt lifeless, as if spoken from beyond the grave. "You will never be safe here. You do not deserve life." A grin spread beneath the mask again. The same chilling one as before. Her anticipation had frayed, leaving her with the immediate desire to inflict as much pain on this being as humanly possible. She stowed her wand in the pocket of her black robes with the knowledge of its upcoming usefulness. In order to enjoy the kill, she was to build it up. Within the next few seconds, she found the girls quivering arms in her grasp. For a moment, she examined the pale limbs with the flat side of her blade. Her eyes met the girls again with a painfully cold glare. Then, without hesitation - she brought the knife down across some of the victim's skin. That moment caused her to regret the silencing charm. She wouldn't be able to relish in her victim's screams. Again, she brought it down - enough to bring pain to the girl, but not cause an unsatisfactory death. Sylvia repeated the process until satisfied with the blood she had left on the victim's skin. Then, she pushed her roughly to the ground, kneeling over her with the knife. "Say goodbye to your disgusting face." Truly, Sylvia hated it. The fact she had to be so close to this disgusting Hufflepuff. One who so gracefully clogged up the earth. It was utterly horrific to be in her presence. Still, Sylvia had a job to do. With one hand, she pushed on the girls collar to keep her pinned to the ground. With the other, she drew her knife within an inch of the victim's cheek. Sylvia smiled again. |
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Plot^.^Who I am.^.^.Theme.^.^Yule Ball outfit My other character is Terry Boot. Call me Meg. Thanks, Anna! <3 | |
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| Gweneve Primus | Jan 16 2011, 03:42:10 AM Post #6 |
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Dave's
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Silas and Harry's faces floated around Gweneve's mind, and the feeling of guilt was present deep within her chest. She walked slowly into the First Floor Corridors with many thoughts spinning around her head. She felt horrible, insanely terrible for the temptation that had struck her, and the negative thoughts she had about Harry. Those thoughts had disappeared as soon as she exited away from Silas's presence, and she knew that from now on avoiding that particular Gryffindor would be a prime task in her day to day activities. Right now, she needed to find Harold. Eve desperately wanted him to scoop her up in his arms just so she could feel better about the encounter with Silas. Even if she had to beat upon the door of the Ravenclaw door, she would, if only to spend two minutes with the man she loved. Loved. Of course she loved him. How stupid could she be? He made her feel important...and loved. Tonight she would tell him. Eve smiled. She would take a chance and tell Harold Avery exactly how she felt, and if he didn't feel the same.... then... at least you couldn't say she didn't try. Being with Silas and seeing how easy it would be to ruin everything Harold and she had worked for made Gweneve realize this. I love him. The young Gryffindor couldn't bear the thought of losing Harry. Her heart wrenched with pain at the thought of never feeling his warm hand tucked in her own, or borrowing his jacket when she got a little too cold in Transfiguration. Eve suddenly felt relief at her realization. It was lucky that the realization struck her now, because if she had stayed with Silas a moment longer... it would have been too late to do anything about it. I'll tell him. Now, to brave the journey up the long stairs and bang on the Ravenclaw Tower. Eve stepped quietly through the torch lit halls, finding it odd that she was the only student in sight. It was a bit eerie, but at the same time it made sense. Many of the students were still at the feast, or making their way down to the Quidditch Pitch. It made sense, yet she couldn't shake that odd little feeling. Eve was almost at the corner when she heard something... Murmurs... Did someone else decide not to attend the match? Her heart beat a little faster, the eerie feeling growing stronger. Goosebumps traveled across her arms, through her neck, making her neck hairs stand on end. She slowly turned the corner, hearing the voices grow a little louder. Gweneve gasped, keeping herself from screaming F*cking hell! Blood. Lot's of blood. She felt dizzy. Blood was never something she was fond of and seeing it in this situation heightened the sickness threatening to spill out of her mouth. "What..." Without missing a beat, she pulled out her wand, forcing herself to keep steady and refrain from being sick. "Expelliarmus!" Eve cried, hoping to disarm the girl with the knife. Was the bloodied girl dead.... was she too late? |
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| Katrina Zakarin | Jan 16 2011, 04:40:15 AM Post #7 |
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Sixth Year
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The biggest mistake Katrina had ever made was to wander the Hogwarts halls alone. She knew from the start that going down an empty, dark corridor was a flaw itself in her plan. When her palms hit the floor, she knew she was going to become a victim of some merciless joke.. or crime. Whoever had tripped her was obviously in some form of alliance with the monster behind her. She yelped when the sharp heel was jammed into her spinal cord. It felt like a bone had been dislocated. Precious Hindert's cold voice floated into her ears, teasing, taunting, haunting. "Help!" Katrina cried. She yelled again, but the Slytherin had already casted the silencing spell. The Hufflepuff began to squirm under the pressure of the heel. Katrina was not giving up without a fight. If Kat hadn't been silenced, her screams would have been heard throughout the entire castle. As soon as Precious removed her heel, she opted to move, but debated against it: Would the girls be quick enough to hurt Kat? By the time she made the decision, her hands had already been binded. Tears sprung to her hazel eyes. Please. Please let me go. Nothing mattered but the pain felt throughout her body. Slash, slash, slash. The knife cut into her skin and it burned. At first it was just a couple, but then she felt it everywhere. Katrina regretted living, she regretted being born. Anything would have been better than this, anything. Tears continued to roll down her eyes as she continued to be a victim to the crime. What was going on? Was Precious hazing the girl? Was this how Precious chose her groupies? Stop, PLEASE! I'm begging. Just let me go. I'll do ANYTHING. ANYTHING. I want to live. I want to live. Let me live. Everything happened too fast: the spilling of the blood, the whispers, the touch of the girl. Katrina found herself slowly hazing in and out. Another voice, a cry, someone to the rescue. Her eyes searched the hall, but all she found was nothing. She was nearly gone. |
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we can dance until we die | |
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| Precious Hindert | Jan 16 2011, 05:18:26 AM Post #8 |
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Seventh Year
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With arms crossed, she circled the Hufflepuff and Sylvia as if they were prey. She nearly danced across the puddles of dirty blood on the floor. "Mudblood!" she cackled. For a moment, their eyes locked and Precious felt a surge of regret. But that was quickly covered up by the memory of Annik telling her she would never be worthy of the Dark Lord. Wrong. Annik would be proud when she heard of the event that took place in the first floor corridor. You're wrong as always. Precious nearly struck Katrina in the head with her shoe. The girl would not stop squirming, like an infant rat. Squirm. How lucky Sylvia had been to spill the blood of a Mudblood. An evil smile on her lips now. Last year, she never would have thought of herself to be doing a thing like this. Ruined. Nearly everything had shattered when the sound of footsteps was heard in the corridors - some that clearly did not belong to Precious. A spell casted, flying in Sylvia's direction. Drawing her own wand, Precious rushed towards the newcomer. "What are you doing here?" she demanded. When Gweneve's face came into view, a surge of excitement rushed through her body. Maybe she would share some of Sylvia's excitement as well. She snatched Gweneve by the throat, digging her nails into her skin. "Bad idea." She wrapped her arms around the girl's small waist and violently brought her to the cold floor. Nothing excited Precious more than physical pain. She pinned her by the neck and leaned forward. With her lips near Eve's ears, she whispered, "Very bad of you to come down here at this time." Possibilities, possibilities. She positioned herself onto the other girl and gazed down at her, feeling powerful. "You sicken me." A hard slap across Eve's pretty face. She reached into her shirt and pulled out a pocket knife. "Be quiet." Precious reached for Eve's left wrist and attempted to pin it down. |
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| Gweneve Primus | Jan 16 2011, 03:52:54 PM Post #9 |
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Dave's
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Eve forced herself to look away from the blood and instead look at who was doing this. Was it some sort of trick? The look of blood lust upon... Precious' face seemed all too real. Precious. And the girl with the knife... her face was covered by a white mask. Eve took a step back as the Slytherin walked swiftly towards the girl. Her hands reached out and clenched her thin neck and Gweneve felt her windpipe being crushed. She reached upwards and attempted to pull Precious' hands away from her throat, but the grip was too tight. Her body was slammed up against Hogwart's hard stone floors, and she heard the Slytherin whisper, "Very bad of you to come down here at this time." Gweneve felt her wand slip from her grasp and roll away. "No..." She gasped, reaching out for it. Her arms were too short to reach it and it lay inches away from outstretched fingers, almost teasingly. Eve's eyes stared coldly up at Precious. The slap crashed down upon her cheek, but she didn't dare shut her eyes or show any submission. "F*ck you." She hissed, struggling to say the words through her held throat. There would be no pleading to be spared. She had went to school with this girl, and although they were not friends, it still made Eve feel a sense of betrayal. To be within feet of one another throughout the years and never know what this...monster was capable of... The thought brought rage to her. "Be quiet." Gweneve yanked her wrist away from the Slytherin's hand and clawed at Precious' face with outstretched fingers. She flailed wildly, despite the knife being inches away from her body. If she were to die today, then she would fight tooth and nail to try desperately to maim these monsters. Her wand was of no use any longer, instead she would have to fight like a muggle. Thoughts sped across the Gweneve's mind. The girl.. Katrina. Was that her name? Eve had never payed much attention to her, Hufflepuffs having always been the annoying ones at Hogwarts. Regardless, she was an innocent, and Eve felt compelled to save her. She needed to save Katrina. To be caught up in this was not something anyone deserved and as Gweneve attempted to push Precious off of her she had only one thing on her mind. Getting away. Getting Katrina and herself far away. Edited by Gweneve Primus, Jan 16 2011, 04:07:34 PM.
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| Precious Hindert | Jan 17 2011, 01:36:33 AM Post #10 |
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Seventh Year
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A scratch to her pretty face. How dare Gweneve! She bit down on her lip hard to prevent herself from striking a hard blow. She didn't necessarily like using her fists to fight. Instead, she preferred to fight like a witch with a wand in her hand. That was how she was raised by her mother. But torture was a different story, of course. Any method of inflicting extreme pain was acceptable. In their struggle, the wand had been knocked from Precious' hand, well out of her reach. She gasped and sat there for a moment, giving Eve a perfect chance to escape. What are you doing? She turned to the Gryffindor beneath her with cold eyes. A raging excitement built up inside of her, almost like a form of arousal. She leaned forward with her lips near Eve's. "Mmm..." A sweet moan. "Aren't you precious?" The Slytherin cackled and placed both of her hands around her neck. She squeezed hard, wanting the life gone from Eve's eyes. But she wasn't going to let Gweneve die in her hands. With an arm still on Eve's neck, she struggled to jab the knife into the other girl's heart, but her reluctant struggle made her miss completely. Instead, the knife had pierced Gweneve's arm. Precious cursed aloud. This will have to do. You've got to hurry. She crawled off of the Gryffindor and towards her wand. Sylvia still remained slashing Katrina's skin in the other end of the corridor. It wouldn't have hurt to help, idiot. But in the end, Precious didn't need help. She was a one woman show. As soon as her fingers clasped around the familiar, ebony wood, a plan had already formed in her head. She was going to escape free, leaving someone else to take the blame. Precious turned to Gweneve whose arm was still punctured with the knife. Then she turned to the other end, with Sylvia still loomed over Katrina, who was now nearly life-less. She ran in her heels towards the dark haired girl with nothing but a burning grudge. "You're useless." She hissed, standing over Katrina. Her eyes fell into what was once, hazel, warm, purely innocent eyes, yet now nearly gone judging by the blood spilled on the floor. But the blood wasn't enough, Precious needed more. And the eyes of a killer flashed. Something unexplainable, stronger than any emotion she had felt. She felt it, felt something. She felt the end, no safety or surprise, the end. Precious would never look into her eyes again. She rose her wand, and muttered, "Avada Kedavra." And she felt it, the power, the rush of everything inside her. Precious Hindert felt like God, she saw the light leave from Katrina's eyes, the body falling limp. So many unexplainable emotions. It was enough to make her cry .. nearly. The corridor remained quiet and all that could have been heard was Eve's painful grunts behind her. She had done it. Without wasting a moment, she turned to Sylvia and screamed, "Stupefy!" She bolted down the corridor, screaming, "Oh, f*ck! f*ck, joy! Oh dear." Precious cackled as she disappeared from the corridor. Kill. Kill. Kill. ooc| wow. this post was possibly my most emotional ever.. well, towards the end, really. Yes, the end was heavily influenced by "The End", just in case you recognized anything. I would have to say I was pretty amazed at this. It's probably my greatest post ever. If you want me to edit something, just tell me, ok? Also, I couldn't exactly make Preci torture Eve because she needed to escape, you know. But the near kiss was excellent. ;D |
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| Sylvia Mercury | Jan 18 2011, 12:34:01 AM Post #11 |
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The knife had resumed its attack. Sylvia brought it down swiftly and precisely, making her mark on every available inch of the girl's skin. It was a gruesome way to kill someone. As the girl went to take her last breath, the blood dripping from her wounds - Precious had a moment of sympathy. Maybe the presence of the unbearable Gryffindor had caused a soft spot in the Slytherin's normally undeniable cold composure. "Avada Kedavra." The self-proclaimed Slytherin Queen murmured. In an instance, Sylvia's victim was dead. Her prize for the torture gone. I wanted to kill that. The girl thought bitterly. As she was pushing the dead girl aside, Precious turned her wand on Sylvia. "Stupefy!" It took all her strength to thrust the girl into the red light, narrowly blocking the spell. No, that was not the plan. The girl had robbed Sylvia of her kill, and perhaps her dignity in that cold corner. Then attacked without further hesitation. As unworthy as the rest of them. Sylvia vowed on her life to bring the worthless human being down a notch. For the moment, she had other matters to attend to. The Gryffindor was still slumped against the wall. If Precious was willing to take her kill, then Sylvia could surely steal hers. "So. The savior of the hour, I presume? Come to save the life of the unworthy?" Sylvia felt herself kneeling down in front of the injured witch. "No one mourns the wicked. Do you believe they will cry at your funeral? No. A hero's deed will go unnoticed if all who were witness to it dies. I will arrange that." Sylvia's mind flashed to Precious. The girl would get her revenge. A loss of the joy of eliminating her first life was not a forgivable matter. "You have destroyed this earth." Her voice was barely a whisper. An echo of her intent's true glory. Without warning, the Slytherin had grabbed the Gryffindor by her neck. Her hands still dripped with the blood of the pink-haired fool, leaving a trail of the crimson liquid along the girl's collar. With a small heave, she had shoved the girl back against the wall. A painful crunch echoed through the corridor as the girl's head made contact with the wall. Sylvia's sickening smile widened into a familiar grin. Knees found stone as Sylvia kneeled in front of the girl, much like she had done with the Hufflepuff. Her knife raised, she prepared to deliver the final blow. To the neck, the heart, or the wrist. Anything that would eliminate all life within her new victim. However, before the knife could make contact with any skin - a small shuffle came from around the corner. No, this wasn't right. Sylvia barely had enough time to execute her kill. Instead, she pulled Precious' knife unceremoniously from the Gryffindor's arm with her sleeve. Then, she shoved it into the girls hand and pulled herself up. The sooner she escaped the scene of the crime, the better. Nobody had saw her face, and only Precious knew of her identity. Better to frame the new victim than to face any more hopeful heroes. Besides, she had plenty of time to kill later in the night. Without a further look, Sylvia pulled herself out of the corridors. ooc: set jack up, just so you know. This post is crappy, I know. I hurt right now, and I'm having problems typing. I'm very sorry. |
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Plot^.^Who I am.^.^.Theme.^.^Yule Ball outfit My other character is Terry Boot. Call me Meg. Thanks, Anna! <3 | |
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| Gweneve Primus | Jan 18 2011, 02:29:34 AM Post #12 |
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Dave's
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Precious' lips were close to hers. With eyes widening Eve clawed fervently at her attackers squeezing hands. Her mouth fell open, gasping for any amount of air it could find. The lack of sufficient oxygen sent blinding pain to the unfortunate witch's head and her hands attempted to search to be saved. When she felt herself dropping out of consciousness, a sudden move and a stabbing pain in her arm revived her once again. The strong fingers dropped from her bruised neck, and Gweneve took a small breath and cried out in pain. She grabbed her arm, feeling the knife pushed deep within. Blood seeped through the spaces of her fingers, and she could do nothing but twist around in agony. Was she to be spared? Precious had gotten up, turning her attentions to the other witch and the prey. She felt too weak to get up, and terrified to make any sudden movements to defend the tortured victim. It would be her biggest regret of all. Precious snapped at the masked woman, and suddenly without warning, killed Katrina. "No.." She uttered breathlessly. Eve rolled over and attempted to stand. Oh, f*ck! f*ck, joy! Oh dear." She refused to cry. Never would she show fear to an enemy. But, even stubbornness could not shield the despair reverberating in her words. "No!" Gweneve fell against the wall, slumped in her own weakness and fear. "So. The savior of the hour, I presume? Come to save the life of the unworthy?" Eve lifted her chin to face the one who started it all. Her wand lay far away, and deep within she felt that death would be slow by this monsters hands. The screams of Katrina still echoed in her ears, and the guilt of her failure in doing something to stop them stayed strongly within the witch. The masked woman knelt before her, their faces were but centimeters away. Eve felt the breath upon her face as the villain murmured, "No one mourns the wicked. Do you believe they will cry at your funeral? No. A hero's deed will go unnoticed if all who were witness to it dies. I will arrange that." "Then none will mourn you. You are the wicked one. It's better to die upon your feet than to live upon your knees.* With those words, which Eve knew for certain that they would be the last she ever spoke, the woman slammed her against the wall. Her head smashed against stone, and with hazy eyes she stared at the glinting knife. The mask had duplicated, she noticed with morbid amusement. Perhaps it was the head trauma she had just suffered, but at least three more were spinning around this evacuated corridor. Gweneve extended her arm, wishing to touch one of them. Cool surface, and grainy texture was what she felt. Disappointing. Where were Harold's hands? The weapon lunged forward and then... and then... what? A footstep... "Harry.." Eve shut her eyes. The woman stopped. No impact, no pain... She dared a peek. Sudden pain, again. The dagger was pulled out roughly. Eve gasped in protest. Would she die after all? Would she be left in a crumpled heap just like the Hufflepuff Katrina? The enemies cool fingers wrapped around Gweneve's wrist. Her soft touch was almost soothing. Almost. Eve's wrist was pushed up to the hard surface of the wall, and Precious' knife was stabbed through her palm, jabbing into a slight crevice between the stones. It was too much. Perhaps death was better than this. Gweneve felt the world seeping in and out. Her torturers had left, and perhaps the slight scuff of shoes meant saving.... but she would rather die than suffer through the guilt and pain. The pain in her head was nearly unbearable. *The origins of that quote can be found here: http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Emiliano_Zapata Edited by Gweneve Primus, Jan 18 2011, 02:42:18 AM.
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| Jack Bauer | Jan 18 2011, 02:06:40 PM Post #13 |
Sixth Year
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Jack Bauer tore into the corridor after hearing muffled screams and cries for help. Quickly scanning the scene, he saw three figures, two injured on the floor, and the other running towards the other end of the corridor. "COME BACK HERE YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Jack yelled in a fury, whipping his wand forward at his target, sending a bolt of red light hurtling in her direction. He had come too late, however, as the bolt hit the ceiling just above his target as she rounded the corner out of the corridor and sent rubble falling to the cold stone floor. "GOD DAMN IT!" Inspecting the scene, his eyes wildly moving back and forth between the two victims of the attack, Jack recognized Gweneve Primus, a sixth year girl from Gryffindor with whom he had a decent friendship with. She was bloody and beaten, and her hand was pierced by a long dagger. Jack slid to his knees beside her and looked her up and down. The other girl seemed to be unconscious and unharmed, so Gweneve was his first priority. "EVE! Tell me what happened!" Jack spat frantically, tearing a piece of cloth off of his shirt to help patch up her wounds. |
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Need a friend? Plot with Jack Bauer here!  | |
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| Gweneve Primus | Jan 18 2011, 09:57:40 PM Post #14 |
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Dave's
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Gweneve reached over and pulled the knife out from her pinned hand. She dropped it quickly, and the knife landed on the floor with a loud clatter that seemed to echo around the corridor. "COME BACK HERE YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Someone shouted. A spell hit the ceiling, sending rubble to the ground. Dust made it's way over to the injured girl, making her cough violently. "GOD DAMN IT!" Coughing made the pain worsen, and she nearly blacked out once again, but a familiar face appeared in front of her. "EVE! Tell me what happened!" She groaned as the cloth made contact with her pierced skin. "Precious... and someone else. She gasped. She would live. Eve could hardly believe it. Death had hovered uncertaintly, and he... Jack had saved her. "I can't.." Terror still seized her. What if they came back? Was this truly over? Now, the worry that they would come back and finish what they failed to do earlier gripped her mind. Katrina. "Precious killed Katrina." This time she could not stop the tears from forming and streaming down her bloody face. |
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| Jack Bauer | Jan 21 2011, 09:33:34 PM Post #15 |
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Sixth Year
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Jack felt a pang of, fear? No, it certainly wasn't fear. Jack Bauer didn't fear anything. When the boogie man goes to sleep, he checks under his bed for Jack Bauer, not the other way around. But anyway. Jack felt a surge of surprise when Gweneve told him that Katrina was dead. Surely, the girl looked to be fine, but Jack knew that, if she had fallen victim to the killing curse, which she undoubtedly had, there would be no signs of injury or mechanism to her death. "There's nothing we can do with her," Jack said to Eve, wrapping his arm around her and offering to console her. "Let me look at that hand," he told her quietly, glancing back at Katrina as he turned Eve away from the bloody scene. With his free hand, he wrapped the cloth he had ripped from his clothing around her hand, knotting it loosely. "Hold onto this. Close your fist as tight as you can without it hurting," which would probably be difficult, as such an injury was sure to send pain coursing through the entire hand. "We should get you to the hospital wing, but we can't...," Jack said, trailing off, but there was no way they could just leave Katrina alone in the corridor for a poor first year to discover. He himself could go and get help, but he didn't want to leave Eve alone with her either. Jack Bauer needed to be there in case the attackers returned, and if they did, they would rue the day they crossed him. |
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Need a friend? Plot with Jack Bauer here! | |
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| Gweneve Primus | Jan 23 2011, 03:22:59 AM Post #16 |
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Dave's
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"We need to get her out of this corridor. I can't stand seeing her... sprawled out like this." Eve responded to his touch and inched closer to his welcoming arm. Normally, she was not one for touching other people, but in this circumstance, any sort of comfort was helpful to her distress. She closed her hands tightly around the cloth, grimacing at the sharp stings that swept through her hand and arm. She closed her eyes, ignoring the urge to weep once again. Crying was not in the Gryffindor handbook. She refused to show anymore weakness. What would her family think? The thoughts swirled around the broken girls mind, as her eyes began to feel drowsy. Gweneve felt her body shutting down from the immense pain and stress, and the thought of sleep sounded simply wonderful. She heard Jack murmur something about taking her to the Hospital Wing. "Mhm." Eve laid her head against Jack's chest. "Don't leave." The words slipped out of her mouth so easily. Jack... her protector. Her savior. Because of him, she lived. |
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| Headmistress Stephanie McKenna | Jan 30 2011, 06:28:20 PM Post #17 |
Provisional Headmistress, Potions Mistress, Leader of The United Magical Confederation, Ministerial Candidate
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Professor McKenna sprinted into the hall flanked by her congregation of aurors. "I want you two to report to Kemp right away. I don't care if your duty is to protect me. I want you to get down there and do something useful for once; I can handle myself-," Stephanie barked at the aurors, but was instantly stopped dead in her tracks. She pursed her lips as she perused the scene. All across the corridor were rocks and bricks, which had fallen or were blasted out of the ceiling, and three students, one of which was bleeding profusely, and another lying unconscious. "Damn it... when will the casualties ever stop rising?" Professor McKenna muttered under her breath. It seemed to her that she had stumbled upon yet another scene of the Knights' attacks inside Hogwarts. "Johnson," McKenna called the name of one of the two aurors. "Check her," she commanded, and the auror quickly moved forward and kneeled down to check on Katrina. McKenna stepped forward towards Jack and Gweneve and prepared to question them, but the auror's next words again stopped her dead in her tracks. "She... didn't make it...," the auror said bluntly. Professor McKenna's head jerked instantly in the girl's direction, and she felt a lump growing in her throat. Azariah Amaranth had finally found a way to break through Hogwarts' defenses. Professor McKenna didn't have a lot of time to think about this, however, as both aurors instantly reacted to the realization and pointed their wands at Jack and Gweneve. "PUT YOUR WANDS DOWN YOU IDIOTS!" McKenna spat at them, drawing her own wand and pointing it back at them, and they both recoiled slightly. "But Professor, they have been found at the sce-" "I DON'T CARE WHERE THEY'VE BEEN FOUND," she screamed at them. "What, do you think that two sixth year students, bloody and beaten themselves, just decided to kill another student and wait around to be caught with the body?" she asked them incredulously. As the aurors opened their mouths to argue back, Professor McKenna continued. "You two, stand at opposite ends of the corridor and make sure that none of the students find their way down here," she demanded, and the aurors reluctantly obeyed. "Bauer, Primus, with me, to the hospital wing. Now." |
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| Ian de Pointe du Lac | Feb 2 2011, 01:52:56 PM Post #18 |
Seventh Year
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From his confrontation with Addie, Ian flew the astronomy tower and made his way downstairs, hoping to slip past everyone in the confusion on his way to the dungeons. As he reached the first floor, however, there was a pain in his body that grew with each descending step. It wasn't a sharp, searing pain like the way his scar hurt whenever he had any contact whatsoever with Alphonse, but a dull, ache--like a longing. There was a presence that he was nearing, a presence he needed to be close to. And it was fading--the ache. It grew stronger as he descended, but it faltered. It was disappearing, even as he approached the source. Whatever it was, it was leaving. He had to hurry and find it before it did. When he at last set foot in the corridor, his senses were suddenly overwhelmed. He could not see anyone, nor feel the cool air or the tension in the room. Even his own feelings were inundated by three things: The smell of blood. The sight of a corpse. And the most intense, desperate sorrow he'd ever felt. The dull ache grew more acute, even as it seemed to slip away, slowly. Please. Please let me go. Ian heard it as if he'd thought it. A desperate plea. Then, Ian felt it. A knife plunging into his arm. The most intense pain he'd ever felt. He faltered, and fell to his knees. Ian screamed. Out loud, as the girl in his head screamed. Repeatedly, the knife went in and out, all the while his mind cried out in a voice that was not his: Stop, PLEASE! I'm begging. Just let me go. I'll do ANYTHING. ANYTHING. Ian crawled on his hands and knees, breathing heavily as he felt pain that was not his. His body was fine. He didn't have a scratch on him. These feelings were not his own. Feelings of regret, of desperation, and of loss. A denial of sorts. A denial that this was happening. A denial that this was the end. But she knew it was. Was this what it was like to die? It was for her. As Ian crawled, steadily, towards the corpse, Katrina's world opened up to him. All of her hopes and dreams flooded his mind--all the things she had done, seen, and felt...and all the things she will never be. I want to live. But the images were fleeting--leaving this world. All of it--both beautiful and terrible--would soon be gone, like a whisper in the wind. Like dust. None of it meant anything to anyone except Kat, but because it meant everything to her, Ian felt it all hit him and overtake him in its desperate embrace. It certainly meant nothing to her killers, whom Ian could see through her eyes. Oh my god. How could they be capable of such brutality? Couldn't they hear her scream? She had been silenced, but it was in that instant that Ian could not imagine how anyone could ignore the hopes and dreams of another soul--the light that they were snuffing out. I want to live. Controlled by desperate feelings that were not his own, Ian cradled the corpse's head in his arms. Its blood splashed on his white clothes, staining them with deep red splotches. Blood was on his hands. He was crying. The knife continued to plunge into him. He could feel Kat leaving him. No! Only the feeling mattered, and the feeling was fading. The light was growing dim. He never even knew this girl. Never once had he spoken with her, and he doubted that he'd have found much to interest him in her. Forced as he was to feel as she felt, to dream what she dreamed, to fade as she faded, he was forced to love her as well. I want to live. Make it stop. I want to live. Enough! I want to live. I can't help you now. Please, let me be. I'm sorry. I should have...I should never have been so spineless. Never again. A rushing sound. A bright green light. The light of oblivion. Ian was being emptied. Something was leaving him. Then, Kat was gone, and all of her hopes and dreams and regrets went with her. Ian was left holding a cold, empty corpse. He felt another presence, then, warm and understanding. Aunt Julia, said Ian, Why? Because of who you are, said Julia, Because you have been made to see the truth of another, the existence others ignore. You cannot cover your ears and close your eyes, Ian. You must accept full responsibility for your actions. You are doomed to see, to know, to feel, and to care. You are free, however, chose what you will do, but you will never be free from what you are and what you have done. This is true for all, especially one who sees as you and your ancestors see. With that, Julia's presence faded, too. Ian's heart and mind suddenly felt cold and alone. There was only himself to contend with, now--a difficult prospect. He sat there, covered in blood, the corpse lying in his lap, staring up blankly. Tears rolled down his face. The insubstantial liquid was lost in the puddles of crimson. Only then was he aware of the others around him. Still, he could not bring himself to move. As soon as he moved, he would have to face the reality of what he must do. Was this his family legacy? Was this his reason? "On Hallowe'en the old ghosts come about us, and they speak to some; to others they are dumb." - Hallowe'en by Eleanor Farjeon |
 Thanks Beth! I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin' I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world I heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin' I heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin' I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin' Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall. --Bob Dylan | |
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