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Night Time Panic Attack  Closed   Ended 

He held an impassive face as the prefect read out of his notebook, and idle wondered what would happen if someone found it...he'd most likely have to go to a mental ward. And when the boy finished his tangent he didn't voice how ridiculous that all sounded, just rose one eyebrow in mild disbelief. Odd, who would let this prefect into Hogwarts, than again he might have been normal enough to get in when he was a first year, but were the teachers really this oblivious to this boy's mental issues, heck even his own mental issues haven't been addressed, incompetent if you ask him, though he wouldn't say such a thing to the teachers' themselves, no that was just an ignorant move, and Azaiah wasn't an ignorant person. Not by a longshot.

“Eyes don’t turn black.” the boy commented, as if the Azaiah were stupid. It irritated him, but he wasn't the kind to let emotions show unless it amused him.


"Well, of course they don't, do you think I'd say such a thing if I hadn't seen it Right in front of my eyes? , he scowled, yes this boy was smart, but his naivety shows how badly he was brought up. The boy obviously doubted what he said, despite all the facts, and didn't seemed bothered by the fact that his teeth had retracted, "You do know canines don't retract into the gums normally right? It's not a normal thing, the only beings that do that are mystical creatures, snakes, to some degree, and inhumans, vampires and such." He sighed in exasperation, the headache not helping his irritability, "Look, you didn't see yourself in the mirror when you attacked the death witch, you're eyes turned black, your canines grew, and none of that is normal", he was begging for this boy to get it through his thick skull, "So my conclusions are, you're cursed, you're a half-vampire, or you're some other being entirely, you can't deny the facts, prefect."

He knew this boy would be hard to sway to see things from his view, or look past his notebook, but he'd try, just to help the boy in the future. It was odd, that he was going to such lengths to attempt to help this boy, but it was more for his own curiosity and amusement on what would all happen in the end to the prefect. He wouldn't half-ares this, he wanted to see it through to the end.

“I don’t have to heal you. The nurse will come out of the clock sooner or later and if you haven’t died yet, she can tend to you. The black burn let them in because we’re supposed to kill them, omb. Besides, it’s not like a death witch would go complain about not dying to the headmaster. She’ll just try to kill me later. How did you survive this long?”


He deadpanned.

Oh Merlin this boy knew nothing about Azaiah, it almost physically hurt him.


"No, the headmaster didn't let them in for us to kill them, we're just students, not gladiators, and that's against the law, and it's dumb. This is a school for learning magic not killing death witches. Also.." His anger flared at the last comment, and he was in no state to restrain it, but instead of yelling, his grey eyes narrowed into cold slits, "Don't insult me in such a way, you know nothing of my past, just like I know nothing of yours, so don't assume I fail at survival, this is nothing compared to getting tortured by a madman, and watching a sibling die in front of you. How would you feel if some one precious you screamed in hellish pain, and bled out on the floor in front of you? So don't insult me with such a thing as saying this is survival." His anger died down, and his cold tone turned to one of indifference, he pulled the memory of examining the boy previously, "though, you yourself have probably been through a lot if you're this socially stunted, and going by the scars you've been injured in some way, most likely tortured, which, by the way, isn't normal and against the law, filing under child abuse and negligence." He glanced at what was viable of the prefects face,"Though you may not have listened to half of that, not surprising really, seeing as how you acted earlier to my comments, I don't usually talk this much, must be the concussion."
, he paused, "oh, also I withdraw my comment about knowing nothing of your past, I most likely just told you the basics of it"

He scanned over the previous comment of the boy, "Also, clocking out means to end a shift, and a shift is a period of time in which one works. Also, if you don't care about me dying, it makes me wonder if the teachers are so oblivious as to keep you a prefect." He sighed, 'he was living in a world of goldfish,' quoting Mycroft and Sherlock. How did these teachers qualify for their jobs if they let this happen? Was society so incompetent?


“I wasn’t aggressive. Aggression only blinds the senses.” the boy commented.


he himself scoffed at the answer and how Ironic it was, "Tell that to the death witch you almost killed."



When the boy tugged on the rope again, in which he was still dragging Azaiah with, he let out a groan of pain, speaking his thoughts out loud, which was uncommon unless thought over thoroughly, "You know, I'm probably going to hate you after this, not that I'll do anything about it except maybe quietly glare at you for a couple days." He was shocked at what he said, but wasn't bothered enough to think further on it, he impulsively let out a smirk, hidden by his mask, "But don't expect me to leave you alone after this, you're a puzzle, a curiosity, and I haven't had a good puzzle in a long time, I'm going to figure you out, whether you want me to or not, and I'm going to enjoy watching you try to do the same for me..." he paused, "Let it be a mutual interest if you will... classify me however you want, I don't care as long as I get amusement out of it, and I'll probably end up helping you in the end." another wave of pain washed over his brain, and what he had just said was swept away with it, cascading down his 'mind palace's' hallways to some dark corner of his mind, where it was forgotten. He blinked away the daze, trying to recover, until his head flared up again like angry hornets, making him groan.


"Oh Merlin this sucks," he resisted smashing the heel of his hand into his head in some futile attempt of getting rid of the headache, and settled for just cradling his skull in his hands, pulling against the rope to do so, "this is why I try to avoid panic attacks at any cost..."
Last edited by Azaiah Morgos on 11th October 2018, 2:37 am, edited 1 time in total.

A.M

Night Time Panic Attack  Closed   Ended 

The omb had seen it happen? Seen his own eyes turn black? That was impossible, wasn’t it? Kaegen would have noticed it, seen it happen. He would have noticed his very own eyes turning black, right? It seemed like something one would be acutely aware of. But here was a omb, terrified of everything, true. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t trustworthy, didn’t mean that he wasn’t telling the truth about Kaegen’s eyes changing color. But the omb had tripped himself up. He had said of course they don’t. If eyes didn’t turn black then Kaegen’s own eyes couldn’t have either, right? Right.

“I said eyes don’t do that, you agreed with me. I’m not different, must have been the light.”

The omb went on, went on with things that didn’t sound good at all. Saying that the only people that had retractable fangs were evil. Inhumans, vampires, snakes. Admittedly, snakes were nice. He liked most creatures and snakes definitely made that list. But he had said snakes to some degree. Which only left Inhumans and vampires. Creatures Kaegen knew he wasn’t. He was human, after all. Completely and totally human. Not whatever thing this boy was trying to convince him he was. Eris was his friend, and Eris was human. That meant Kaegen had to be human too. His goal was to be like her, to protect her. He couldn’t be like her if he didn’t even have similar blood.

But the omb went further still. He said it again, said it all clearly. Said that the prefect’s eyes had turned black, that his canines had grown and that it wasn’t normal. That none of it was. That his conclusion was that Kaegen was cursed. He was either a half vampire or some other being entirely. This was not acceptable, the entire idea that Kaegen was something other than human destroyed his core values, his principles. Threatened to tear down his ambitions and dreams. To be able to walk by Eris’ side was the height of his ambition. It was already so near impossible that he was beginning to have doubts that he would ever make it. He worked as hard as he could, stayed up as late as possible training and working, studying and practicing flicking his wand. He was exhausted but refused to admit it to himself.

All of that would be for nothing if he wasn’t even close to the same as she was, if he was evil, if he belonged to the ranks of death witches let in to the school solely to kill off the weak. Eris would have to come after him, would have to try to kill him. That wasn’t going to happen, that couldn’t happen. And for that reason, the boy’s brain tried it’s very best to close itself off to the idea that the omb presented, tried it’s best to turn a deaf ear and throw out any excuse conceivable. The cop out it finally decided on was total denial.

“You can only deny facts if they exist. Those are opinions, which can easily be denied.”

His voice by now sounded a bit like sandpaper going over wood. Quiet wood. He was hard to make out and it was starting to be uncomfortable, but he couldn’t exactly stop talking, it was clear this omb knew nothing. He was now saying that the death witches weren’t let in. But that was impossible. Anyone with a name as splendid as the black burn had to be at least marginally competent, and the death witches didn’t exactly do a spectacular job of hiding their presence. But at the same time, his reasoning for this was simply that it was against some law. Who even set the laws? Who cared who set the laws?

“The black burn makes the laws. He never made one about killing death witches. Just fellow students.”

It was odd, a random change in tone, a decided difference, but not one that the boy could interpret. He wasn’t even sure if the omb had changed his tone on purpose, or if he was dying and the tone change was him becoming weaker and closer to death. He didn’t really know, and didn’t care enough to ask. Besides, the words actually coming out of the omb’s mouth were much more interesting, and in some cases even funny. He said that Kaegen insulted him somehow, and not to presume the omb knew nothing about survival. What made that situation all the more hilarious was that the omb was saying this even as he was dying while being dragged to the hospital wing. He went on to say that dying was nothing compared to getting tortured and seeing someone die in front of you. That was strange, to put it mildly.

“Sounds like your family member was pretty weak.”

It was all he could say in response to that, the rest was too ludicrous, it didn’t deserve a response. Kaegen hadn’t even asked a question, but spent the time to offer that statement in his now sandpapery quiet voice. He held no emotion for the omb, none was required. Or if emotion was required, the prefect didn’t know what kind or how much. It was a field he was completely blind in, entirely deaf to the spectrum of human feelings that governed normal people’s actions.

And now what the heck did socially stunted mean? That phrase made no sense, you couldn’t be stunted socially, could you? How would that work, what would that entail? Was it a compliment, an insult or maybe just an indifferent statement? But something the other boy said did make at least some sense. More sense than social stunts, anyway. Tortured. He had mentioned being tortured just seconds before, and now again. What did that mean, really? What was this law he kept talking about? As a prefect, he was well versed in the laws of the black burn, and nowhere on there did it mention negligence or child abuse. How would you abuse a child? Hurting them helped, if you killed them then they were dead. He wasn’t entirely sure where abuse fit there at all.

The omb finished his tirade by claiming the prefect hardly listened to anything he said. It was true, of course. Half of what the omb said was utter garbage, gibberish that didn’t make enough sense to be worth listening to. The other half was the half he did listen to, the half that had some good points, although faulty.

“I listen to everything, hear what’s important. What’s torturing, anyway?

The teachers keep me as prefect because I can do the job. More than can be said for you, you’re scared of thinking.”


Tell that to the death witch he killed? What?

“I can’t tell her, she’s dying on the ground.”

And then the omb launched into yet another tirade. It was pretty meaningless, but what Kaegen did get out of it was that the omb was going to hate him but be too weak to do anything, and also he thought the prefect was funny, and because he was funny the omb would help him in the end. That was alright by him, being funny was probably a good thing, especially if it randomly got people to help him. Although someone who’s darkest threat was that he was going to “stare at him” was probably not all that big of a help.

As a coup de grace to a lot of nonsense, the omb finished with the words “this sucks” and to all of that speech, there was really only one thing to say.

“Alright. But I don’t really find you interesting.”

flectere si nequeo superos, Achaeronta movebo

Night Time Panic Attack  Closed   Ended 

“I said eyes don’t do that, you agreed with me. I’m not different, must have been the light.”

"Yes, I agreed, eyes don't do that, But yours did, which makes it all the more unusual." Azaiah paused, "As for 'must've been the light' that's just a poor excuse for a stubborn man in denial, you're eyes were clear one moment, and then something like black fog covered them like some kinda crystal ball fog or something, which was disturbing to say the least, light doesn't move that way now does it?" He huffed, "Stop denying the facts Prefect, that's for weaklings, accept them and over come them, that's for the strong, and you're strong are you not?"

“You can only deny facts if they exist. Those are opinions, which can easily be denied.”, the prefect stated, quite wisely, which is surprising, and confusing, this boy acts ignorant, yet some things he says are the speaking's of an intelligent man. Azaiah's interest in the Ravenclaw only grew.


"I agree with that sentence, but these are facts, not opinions. It's not my opinion that you're eyes changed and your fangs grew, as saw it happen with my own eyes, and scanned over ever possibility in my mind. They were all discarded, none of them fit what happened to you, except for the possibility of you being a vampire. What I saw are now facts." He didn't look at the boy dragging him away, craning his neck but pressure on his head, and made the pain worse. He took another sip of Dr. Pepper, "I can tell by you're voice that your trying very hard to think of a way out of what I said, this would be a lot to take in, but get over it quickly, after I'm healed you might as well plan out what you're going to do next with this new information. I suggest asking family members and finding out if any of them are vampires, then you have to choose if you're going to hide the fact, or tell someone other than me."

“The black burn makes the laws. He never made one about killing death witches. Just fellow students.” the Ravenclaw reasoned.


"Hmm, has it ever occurred to you that he doesn't know the excitants of death witches? Besides, he's not the only person who makes the rules, for the school, yes, but for Wizarding society as a whole? That's left to the Ministry of Magic, a group of wizards that keep our society working smoothly. Murder isn't allowed, if you murder, you get sent to Prison, a place where they keep you locked away and treat you like dirt. So I suggest either killing in secret, or not killing at all." He scoffed into his fizzy drink, "Honestly have you been living under a rock? These are basic facts of reality, I hope I don't have to tell you everything."

“Sounds like your family member was pretty weak.” the boy said this offhandedly.


Azaiah grew solemn, but didn't react to the statement in any other way except that, "She was. Age three, sickly girl, I was the only other person in the room other than the madman from the mental ward, she was tortured, only lasted a day, I watched her bleed out. Children can't do much in that situation, I was chained to a wall, she was tied to a chair, and we were against a full grown man." he took another nonchalant sip of his drink through the mask, "Luckily I've locked away any emotions related to that situation, doesn't bother me as much."


He wondered why he was talking so much once again. He should avoid getting concussions in the future if this is what happens.

“I listen to everything, hear what’s important. What’s torturing, anyway?" the boy asked, just confusing Azaiah more.


He sighed, "torture is when someone causes you sever physical or mental harm. Purposefully causing you pain, often used to get information, as a punishment, or for sick pleasure. Illegal in muggle and wizarding worlds."

"The teachers keep me as prefect because I can do the job. More than can be said for you, you’re scared of thinking.”


He scowled under his mask, "First off, I still think it's the teacher's incompetence, and second, I'm not scared of thinking, why would you say I am? please tell me so I can say you're wrong." his voice was stone cold once more.


“I can’t tell her, she’s dying on the ground.”


"No duh, guess you'll do nothing, because you don't understand that murder isn't allowed unless you can prove that they deserved it and were in some kind of unlawful underground. I'll just tell the nurse she's dead or injured on the ground in the hallway when I'm healed. Most likely will tell her you did it, because that's one of the rules in the school." He rolled his eyes.

“Alright. But I don’t really find you interesting.”

"Umm, Ok? Don't know where that came from, don't care much either." He rubbed his head in confusion, but shrugged of the boy's statement as one of his oddities.


He could barely keep his eyes open, but pushed through the weariness, he'd stay up until he got to the nurses' office and continue conversing with the Ravenclaw, already much information had been gathered about the boy 'helping' him from their talking, and has been filed away in his mind palace under the Prefect's file.

A.M

Night Time Panic Attack  Closed   Ended 

He was called out, called out for something the boy hadn’t even really been aware that he had been doing. He still didn’t really know, or even know that he didn’t really know. The omb elaborated further, explaining how he agreed eyes didn’t turn black, he had made that point simply to draw a correlation so that Kaegen would understand how unusual it was that his eyes had, supposedly, changed color. Like a black fog covering a crystal ball. Or at least that’s what the omb said it looked like.

The omb called him out, said that he was denying the facts, that only weaklings did that. Kaegen Deathmote was no weakling, but there was no way what the omb was saying was true. Besides, these facts that the omb was talking about were all based off of the omb’s own eyewitness account, right? How trustworthy was that even? Could that really be classified as fact? Fact, because one omb said it was?

“Mists curl and shroud, light reflects and blinds. Your eyes could have seen it wrong.”

With all his heart he didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to accept any of it. But it wasn’t like he could prove the omb could be proven wrong, either. And so Kaegen kept dragging the omb slowly through the corridors. Too intrigued, too curious to dump him off and leave, but too far in denial to accept the omb’s words, either.

The omb tried to convince the prefect of his validity. Pointed out that he had seen these things with his own eyes, analyzed it in his own brain. He claimed yet again that the boy must be a vampire, that he had to be, that no other alternatives existed. That it was all factual. But that wasn’t true, it wasn’t factual.

“You’re claiming it’s factual based on one brain-damaged eyewitness account. That’s not only an opinion, but a biased one.”

There was nothing, at least nothing that Kaegen could think of, that could possibly refute his rebuttal. Unless the omb had some kind of magical proof-making spell that could somehow convince the prefect that his eyes had, indeed, not been deceived and that his concussion hadn’t completely addled his brain, making him think he saw what didn’t actually happen, there was no way the ravenclaw would accept the omb’s claims as factual.

The omb started to talk about what Kaegen should do next as if the prefect had taken the omb’s word to be anything more than a strongly voiced opinion. Talking to family members was a lot harder than it should have been for the boy. That involved finding the fens, finding grandfather and not dying because of it, then waiting a year for his birthday, or some random visitation of his parents. Just to ask them what to do about being a mythical creature of the night? That was not in the cards, it didn’t make any sense to do even if he somehow was a vampire.

He wasn’t sure how the omb came up with some of his wild theories, but even a broken clock was right twice a day. And the omb did raise questions that weren’t impossible. Did the black burn know about death witches? Kaegen’s opinion on that matter had shifted with the years, from thinking that the professors were all unawares to assuming they did know and the entire school was less about schoolwork and more about tests and challenges, death matches and puzzles.

But as plausible as that was, his next few statements were completely impossible. A ministry of magic that governed all of magical society? What magical society, even? Did he mean the wizards outside of hogwarts? The prefect found it extremely unlikely they all had the same rules, who even kept them all in line? Who forced people to jail if they didn’t comply with the no murdering rules? Who ran the prison, and who stopped people from leaving? There was no way an organization could conceivably exist on a scale that massive, it just couldn’t happen. People would fight, the system would break down. How could anyone make that many people agree?

“So you get in trouble if you get caught? Then don’t get caught, why does anyone listen to the mystery of magic anyway? Are they that much stronger than everyone else?

No, I’ve lived in the Fens. I couldn’t fit under a rock, anyway.”


From what he gathered, a mad person from a mental guard came in and tortured then killed this omb’s younger sister, and the omb couldn’t do anything about it because he allowed himself to get chained against a wall because he was a kid? And kids couldn’t do much? But he also said that he had luckily bottled away all emotion. Kaegen wasn’t the best at emotion, but wasn’t luckily a sign of relief? And wasn’t relief an emotion? Then again, the prefect knew painfully well that he was not exactly the authority on emotions. If the omb said that he had bottled them all up, who was he to deny it?

“How do you bottle up emotions?”

So he did know of torture. But it wasn’t illegal, it couldn’t be. That had happened often to him growing up in the fens, and no one had taken grandfather to jail. It was just part of growing up, part of the training anyway, wasn’t it? Why would something like that be considered illegal? Pain helped you learn, grandfather had told him so himself. But on the other hand, a lot of what grandfather said contradicted itself, or was simply wrong. The lessons were such a tangled mess of contradictions and paradoxes that the boy had long since given up sorting out what was right and wrong.

“Torture isn’t illegal, then. Can’t be.”

Why was he scared of thinking? That was a pretty easy question to answer, considering the omb had told the prefect as much earlier on.

“You said yourself that you were scared of thinking. Back by the death witch.

It came from my mouth, and my brain before that, I think.”


Now if that wasn’t a stupid question, he didn’t know what was.

flectere si nequeo superos, Achaeronta movebo

Night Time Panic Attack  Closed   Ended 

“Mists curl and shroud, light reflects and blinds. Your eyes could have seen it wrong.”

"Oh? And where could it have reflected mist? We were right in front of a torch, the shadows flickered, they didn't act like mist in any way. So where could such a reflection come from?" He quirked a lazy brow, but didn't care that the stubborn Ravenclaw didn't see, he could tell the boy was mulling over his comments. Which was the first step to believing.

“You’re claiming it’s factual based on one brain-damaged eyewitness account. That’s not only an opinion, but a biased one.”


He grinned slightly, this boy was a puzzle, ignorant, yet able to think his way out of the situation he was being confronted with. But he could still disprove him, "True, as that may be, but do I sound addled? This drink keeps my mind awake, and you know the longer a concussion is left without treatment the worse it gets, but I stored what I saw early on, so that info is more reliable then yours, your in denial, and that leads to faulty reasoning."

“So you get in trouble if you get caught? Then don’t get caught, why does anyone listen to the mystery of magic anyway? Are they that much stronger than everyone else?"

"Ministry, not Mystery," he corrected absently, not caring to much that he said it incorrectly, "It's harder not to get caught then you think, they have spies everywhere, and civilians aren't hesitant to bring in information, you can't run from them for long, they have the resources to find you, magic remember?" He took another sip of his Dr. Pepper, "They are stronger than everyone, they have highly trained wizards to enforce the rules they make, and they have smart ones to figure out problems and research new magic, they have creatures to keep those in prison obedient, despite the fact that the creatures are inhumane and have no care for what happens to their prisoners."

"No, I’ve lived in the Fens. I couldn’t fit under a rock, anyway.”

He didn't bother correcting him, he didn't have the attention or care to, "Fens? I'll have to research that." He smirked slightly, "and sure you can fit under a rock, just find a big one and dig under it."

“How do you bottle up emotions?”

He paused, "Good question, it's a saying that means you ignore emotions until they're pushed mentally to the back of your mind, until they have little to no presence in you, hard to explain with you're limited sense of society's etiquette." He rubbed the bridge of his nose absently as pain flared up yet again.

“Torture isn’t illegal, then. Can’t be.” the prefect sounded confused.


"It is, this proves that what I said about you being tortured is true, you were most likely locked away, by someone, most likely blood relation due to the fact that my comment of you going to family members for more info on you're abilities made you seem hesitate." he processed that info quickly and stored it away on the prefect's mental profile, "But yes, torture is illegal, it's dubbed inhumane, and just cruel in general to beings that are sentient and have feelings, however distant those feelings are, it will take me a while to get you used to the rights and wrongs of the world...", Azaiah sighed absently as he thought of the daunting task ahead of him.

“You said yourself that you were scared of thinking. Back by the death witch." the prefect responded to his question about when Azaiah said he was afraid of thinking.


He scanned his fuzzy, but still reliable, memory of that moment, and recalled his words, "I didn't specifically I was afraid of thinking in general, no I meant any thoughts or actions that might trigger a panic attack, and I'm sane enough that every single though or action won't send me into another attack like the one you found me in.", he huffed slightly, no longer surprised by how 'thick-headed' the prefect was. " Note what I'm about to say prefect, it's important for you. You saw me in that attack, did it look like normal fear? Did I look like I was seeing my surroundings as reality? No, my mind sent me back to the night of the torture, I was trapped in there, and my senses were overridden by trauma. Normal fear is fear of something in front of you, it's fear you can controle, but THAT kind of fear? That's a fear that's so hard to ignore and get rid of, that it's a diagnosed mental disorder, called 'Post Traumatic Stress Disorder', it's when you're mind flashes back to a moment of great fear and pain, and keeps you there until someone gets you out of it. It's not something you can just shake off, not even you Stoic Boy. Hope this enlightens you, remember it for future times when I go into a panic attack and you're conveniently there."

"It came from my mouth, and my brain before that, I think.” the boy mused.


"You really do take things to the word don't you?" He let out a small chuckle, oddly at ease with this bot. It was most likely how ignorant he was of the way the world looked, it allowed Azaiah to speak bluntly, and posed as a challenge to make his words be spoken in a way the prefect was able to understand, and he was steadily building up a profile of the guy. Quite amusing, kept his mind off the pain raging through his skull like an angry bull.

A.M

Night Time Panic Attack  Closed   Ended 

“It doesn’t matter whether or not there was mist or shadow. I’m not the best judge of who’s addled and who isn’t, anyway. I can’t see your face, and your voice tells me nothing. I may be foolish, by that doesn’t make me a fool. Besides, you’re claiming that the reason you are awake is because of a strangely brown beverage. And that’s why I should trust you? Do you realize how stupid that sounds? I don’t know what’s in that. You could be under the effects of a potion and not even know it.”

His throat was really starting to hurt, and the last thing he wanted to do was keep talking. Luckily the hospital wing was ahead of him, not even that far away any more. He would make it no problem and then dump off this omb in front of the door. The nurse would find him in the morning and this would finally be over. This stupid night full of sandpaper throats and death witches

He grumbled internally about speech, how it came so easily to others, how they’d had years of practicing and he had hardly ever said a word, and when he did only if it was as quiet as a tiny gust of wind, for fear of being discovered by any of the numerous beasts that stalked the magical swamps known as the fens. Why did people have to talk, anyway? They could all just stare at each other or write OWLs, couldn’t they? Who decided people had to use their mouths for anything besides eating in the first place?

“I claim you’re an untrustworthy source and you claim I’m in denial. This discussion isn’t going anywhere in a hurry.”

Hearing more about this ministry, Kaegen began to see a bit more clearly what they were. They were simply the gang on top, the tough guys that kept all the up and coming tough guys down. Like a wolf pack that had seized a territory and quelled any uprisings from other packs. They weren’t better, persay. Just stronger. The prefect didn’t agree with any of this, but he did accept it. It was how nature worked. It may not be fair, but it was justice, in a way. An unfair, wild sort of justice.

“They wouldn’t have to worry about following the rules, if they’re the ones making them. Inhuman prisons make sense, when you think about it. If the prisons are nice why would anyone not want to go there?”

When the omb mentioned that he could just dig a hole under a rock and crawl under, the prefect paused for just a second. The logic was there. The logic had been there and Kaegen had missed it. But the omb had seen it, seen it and pointed it out. It was a small seed to build any sort of respect off of, but the seed existed, and had just sprouted, just a little. The omb was smart, then. Smarter than the ravenclaw had ever given him credit for.

“You are not wrong. I think I’ll retract my previous statement. You do interest me after all, omb. Maybe there is still undamaged brain left in your head after all.”

His speech about emotions mostly made sense. It seemed almost impossible to Kaegen to be able to completely bottle up rage. That, at least, seemed like a pretty powerful emotion. Powerful enough to break free of any bottle you happened to attempt to trap it in. Rage was mighty and raging. How would you just press that away and ignore it? And what about happiness? From what he had gathered from limited exposure to that feeling, it felt nice. Really, really nice. Nice enough to want to feel it more, if only he knew how. Was the omb also pushing back those feelings?

And what about pain, did the omb not feel that any more? Considering the wincing, the prefect was severely doubting that the omb had that much power. Or maybe he just captured and released the emotions on a whim. That would make more sense, anyway. It would fit in with what he had just learned, and what he knew previously.

“Manners have nothing to do with this, I don’t think. So you pushed away all of your emotions? Even pain? Do you choose when to let that out?”

Locked away? Kaegen had never been locked away. The fens were just a difficult place to leave. The mists would confuse, the bog would shift. If he hadn’t followed the OWL out, the young boy doubted he ever would have seen anything but mist. Anything but the unknown. The unknown had sheltered him, but it was terrifying. A sheltering fear that enveloped him like a blanket. He was glad, in a way, to have come to hogwarts. But on the other hand, life in the fens was so much simpler.

“I wasn’t locked away. Just in the fens. I’m not even sure what you mean by inhuman any more. Elaborate, if you wouldn’t mind. Or even if you would, for that matter.”

From what he could gather from the long and rather boring speech and traumatic posting about stress and disorders, the omb was under a curse. If anything triggered it, he would zap into another dimension or something where he was forced to relive some scary thing. While he was zapped out, his body would freak out without a soul and slam into things. If kaegen was near, a simple knife to the leg would snap the omb out of it. Pretty simple, all in all.

“So if you start posting, I just stab you and you wake up? Is that it?

I’m not sure what take things to the word means, so I don’t think I’ll answer that one. Regardless, here we are. The hospital wing. If you live, I’ll see you sooner or later. If not, then this was all pointless. Goodbye.”


And dumping off the omb, the prefect stalked off in the direction of ravenclaw tower

Reducio
Alright, so that's my exit. We can totally plot another thread in the future, this one was a TON of fun! He'll hear your last remarks as he's leaving, if you want to finish off with your closing post.

flectere si nequeo superos, Achaeronta movebo

Night Time Panic Attack  Closed   Ended 

“It doesn’t matter whether or not there was mist or shadow. I’m not the best judge of who’s addled and who isn’t, anyway. I can’t see your face, and your voice tells me nothing. I may be foolish, by that doesn’t make me a fool. Besides, you’re claiming that the reason you are awake is because of a strangely brown beverage. And that’s why I should trust you? Do you realize how stupid that sounds? I don’t know what’s in that. You could be under the effects of a potion and not even know it.”

He chuckled at the boy's response, still in denial, such is life, he'll see his eyes change sooner or later, but he already has considered Azaiah's answers about the fangs, and that was enough to get that untapped intelligence working. He didn't say anything about the fangs, no need to remind the boy, he knew already.

“I claim you’re an untrustworthy source and you claim I’m in denial. This discussion isn’t going anywhere in a hurry.”

"I don't mind, I've already planted doubt in your mind and that's enough to make anyone go crazy until they accept it, doubt is a powerful thing, I suggest using it against opponents", his comment sounded offhanded and nonchalant, but he knew the boy would be impacted, this was going to be fun.

“They wouldn’t have to worry about following the rules, if they’re the ones making them. Inhuman prisons make sense, when you think about it. If the prisons are nice why would anyone not want to go there?”

"Hm, you're right, and that's what's so pathetic, sometimes they don't even follow their own rules, but they still enforce them. They usually don't break the rules though, since they're the ones who made the rules, they'd truly believe those rules are right, would they not?" he was pleased about the comment the boy made, everyone knew it, but he spoke it out loud, and despite how naïve he was he figured it out. He had intelligence under there, it was just untapped.

The boy was listening somewhat, though his voice was scratchy, he obviously wasn't used to talking so much.
“You are not wrong. I think I’ll retract my previous statement. You do interest me after all, omb. Maybe there is still undamaged brain left in your head after all,” a flash of respect passed through the Ravenclaw's eyes.

Azaiah just deadpanned, all he had to do to gain respect from this boy was to make logical responses to his ignorance of the world instead of explaining them....pathetic, but you take what you get. He'd still explain if it was important of course, but he now knew how to build up respect from the boy, and accomplishment of it's own.

“Manners have nothing to do with this, I don’t think. So you pushed away all of your emotions? Even pain? Do you choose when to let that out?”


"Yes, basically, it helps my thinking become more clear, less foggy like it is now, I can't push away pain, that's physical, not mental, but due to my...past experiences, I can endure most pain. I can choose to let them out, but I try not to unless it benefits me or amuses me in a way, that doesn't mean they don't come out when they want to, if you bottle up too much, the top comes off, and than the full brunt of the withheld emotions come out, not a good experience, but better then having to deal with it every day." He smirked, the boy was asking how it works, means he's more interested now. He was happy to give the info the boy wanted, except anything that would be harmful to he himself of course.

“I wasn’t locked away. Just in the fens. I’m not even sure what you mean by inhuman any more. Elaborate, if you wouldn’t mind. Or even if you would, for that matter.”

"...curious,"he mused on the boy's response, then continued, "I would be happy to elaborate, inhumans mean anything that has the ability to think and plan things out, sentient, such as vampires, werewolves, and such," he quite enjoyed teaching the Ravenclaw new things, odd since said Ravenclaw was older then him, but Azaiah's maturity surpassed most first years and this boy's, quite convenient.

“So if you start posting, I just stab you and you wake up? Is that it?"

"..Ah, I'd prefer not to get injured, but if shaking or slapping me doesn't work than I'd be ok with that, you have to take responsibility if you get in trouble for such a thing though, just do it if you see me panicking like before." he shrugged, he could deal with pain, and it most likely be more effective then shaking him, just wasn't such a good thing to do in public, but whatever.

"I’m not sure what take things to the word means, so I don’t think I’ll answer that one. Regardless, here we are. The hospital wing. If you live, I’ll see you sooner or later. If not, then this was all pointless. Goodbye.” he was then dumped in front of a door, most likely the hospital wing. He scowled after the boy, but it quickly turned to a wide grin.


Oh this will be fun...so very fun, he was practically giddy with excitement....and sugar.

He stayed up through the night, absently refilling and drinking his Dr. Pepper, and going over this flood of new info in his mind palace, sorting it accordingly.

A teacher soon came across him and he was scolded, until he pointed to the injury on his head, which was crusted with blood, and absently muttering, "Concussion". That was all the teacher needed before opening the door to the hospital wing and rushing to get the nurse. When the nurse came in and started fussing over him he allowed to let his mind slip into sweeet, sweet darkness.


He had no nightmares that day.

A.M
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