Quidditch Stands || Secret Blossom Ball Event

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Interacting with @Celynne Gray

Dmitri watched from his dark corner as the two kids he was talking to just a while ago moved to join the party down below. That's cute. He rolled his eyes. To be frank, the idea of having dates simply repulsed him. All the fussing over outfits and looks and beauty just for another person whose opinions won't matter after the ball was over and done with; it was weirdly pathetic.

The act in itself was simply just Posturing 101 for Toddlers. You can impress everybody else enough by yourself--Dmitri sure as hell didn't need anyone beside him to stand out, he just chose not to. At least, that's what he thought (though one cannot really see how a black-monochromatic outfit would stand out amongst the crowd of glitters and sequins and tulle). Already, the sparkling sea of teenagers euphoric over their equally youthful company was going in full swing. The lights shined down over laughing children, mouths moving in fast-forward as they conversed with each other eagerly over the beat of the soft music.

The noise and the mob of over-perfumed bodies would honestly make anyone gag.

Dmitri huffed out a calming breath, silently thanking Merlin he chose the right spot to be alone with.

Which didn't last long.

Because just as he was getting back into his book, a lone girl found herself by his secluded corner, her elbows resting along the railing and eyes gazing thoughtfully across the pitch.

Not another kid waiting for their date.

"What's with this place just being a waiting area for people and their dates?" Dmitri would call out teasingly, indicating the girl's solitude. "Leave the mopers and the loners to their designated area, kid." At this he'd flash her a one-sided smirk. "You spiffed out lot have the changing rooms and the pitch all to yourselves already." This was said mainly because the Slytherin had no knowledge that the girl had been abandoned by her friend; if he did, he wouldn't have had spoken too mockingly.

It wasn't because he wouldn't have wanted to hurt the girl's feelings--the Slytherin simply couldn't care less. He just didn't want to deal with another pissy girl child mad at him. He had a book to get back to, for Merlin's sake.

Want and desire are often fickle. Aesthetics and unreasonable presumption override logic and common sense. Of course it was the other way around for Erin, it was the heart and the want for love that left the girl wanting. Paracelsus was not a clever boy, perhaps one could even go as far as to say be was dumb. He was not an ugly young man either, his features symmetrical and placed approximately where they were expected to be found. However, he said that he was interested in having a relationship with her. A simple statement that might have been carelessly said or thoughtlessly claimed, much like Thomas LeStrange's assertion of friendship. Something that might have meant more to her than it did to the boy. The want to be with her was all she needed from them, she would find them interesting and beautiful. She would align herself with them and be their partner. She would see what she wanted to see in them, their best parts and learn to love the rest.

There was a problem with that of course. Words were cheap. It was easy to claim that you were someone's friend, someone's paramour. It was another thing to mean it. @Thomas LeStrange never meant it did he? When he disappeared, Erin looked for him. Erin fought for him. Entered fights she knew she could not and did not win. Paracelsus was gone and she knew not where. Nobody seemed to notice his absence, not even her despite the fact that she had believed that they had been in a relationship for a year and a half, an eternity for most teens. He was either dead, really dead... or he left without saying good bye, she was irrelevant to him... or he was avoiding her, because he never wanted to be with her. Not that she deserved his affection. She should never have expected it. It was always her to initiate. A product of her forcefulness and his passiveness. It was never meant to be.

Of course why continue the charade? Jack Warren took on Paracelsus' appearance, a veritable clone of the boy. She was certain of their similarity, yet looking at him today the resemblance was vague at best. The same with Jack Burnett, his hair was a bit off but beyond that they were like mirror images. Seems cruel that Paracelsus would have some a handsome yet common face. As poorly as she regarded Warren, he did not lead her on for very long. The same could not be said of Burnett, she thought that Paracelsus had changed. That he had become an active, enthusiastic participant in their relationship. She was a fool.

Now, she felt heavy but somehow hollow. She trudged towards the castle, the muffled chatter of students and the music could still be heard through the quidditch stands as she rounded the perimeter of the pitch. All she wanted to do was to go home. Home to her was not her family's estate in Ireland, there was nothing but blood ties there. No heart, no soul, no comfort that she knew of.

"Erin, wait up!"

Oliver called out after her. Oliver Hart, a friend she did not deserve. She had tormented him his first two years in Hogwarts but he decided to actually mean it when he offered his friendship. So, she complied.

He was not a fast runner. The sort of boy you would want to be traveling the woods with in case of a bear attack, of the two he would be the one mauled. "Don't..." Her gaze cast down towards the ground, she was trying to not cry.

"Sorry that you were tricked by that guy... you know, I don't really know what's going on in your life, You-"

She let out a sigh.

"You mention giants and people disappearing and I'm always like, y'know, I start talking about a comic or something cause I don't know what to say. But that's wrong of me and I'm sorry!"

"Don't... be sorry." Erin announced. "It's fine," she lied.

"Oops, sorry, didn't mean to raise my voice, heh... Anyway, I care about what you have going on. You're my pal, my only pal. And I won't let you just sink into the mud. Y'know..."

She shook her head. He was her only friend. A sad truth but that was more than she had last year.

"y'know, we're not that much different. We're placed on the outside."

He pointed back at the party. She never did get to enjoy a dance or a party. She never belonged. At best she forced some guy to tolerate a dance with her because they were too scared to say no. A sound escaped her lungs, it was a half laugh and she was the target of her own disparaging laughter.

"and we're left there. You and I... we're burning up slowly and nobody cares. We're on fire and there's no way to put it out... and people like us have to stick together... they want us to be alone so we're easier to bring down."

"I'm fine..." Erin repeated with greater resolve.

"But not us! I've got your back, I swear I do. As long as you have mine, we can win. We can come out on top..."

What a rallying speech. She forced a smile that was not entirely a lie. "Thanks Oliver," Erin replied. She should have said something nicer, perhaps prfound but she lacked the words. Beyond the tired 'it is fine' and 'everything would be OK' which were lies, she had nothing to say.

Well, nothing to say except "the pain feels... exquisite." An admission he would never understand. "And..." she let out a breath "so doesn't your compassion." A sick reality, the pain filled the void just as bliss did and as she learned a long time ago - terror and hate came easily, in waves. Love, fidelity and friendship however were rare. "I have never been angry... really angry before," tears streamed down her face. "Just that I should be angry. Offended," why was she laughing? "That--"

"Erin."

She knew that face too. She would recognize him probably, the narrow eyes and mop of hair, the expression often askew. Of course it could be someone else, they all look alike these days. She would let out a laugh when she saw him. The sort of laugh someone makes when they heard a stupid joke that still tickled them somehow.

"Merlin..." Erin cackled.

"Please, don't leave. Oliver is wrong. There is no 'outside' or 'inside'. You two are just as much students as anyone else." [/b]

"Students sure," Erin scoffed. "They have a different experience from us," she was referring to herself and Oliver. The thing is she knew a fair amount about Oliver and his hollow mother. "We don't get friends, just a fair amount of bullshit we might have" in her case "or might not have" she was referring to Oliver "deserved." Oliver Hart was a magnet for bullshit, socially awkward and not the best about managing his... well, everything, he was an easy target.

"And just because you might not be aware that anyone cares doesn't mean they don't. You're not as alone as you think - or, perhaps, even want to believe."

She brought her hand to the copper charm about her neck and pulled it from her neck with a *snap* and handed it off to Oliver. "Such sentimental drivel," Erin announced. "I am not alone," she replied as she took a step forward. "But being alone is better than being in the company of apostates and fabulist." He had been lying, leading the girl on for months. Had her sentiments for him been real? Yes. Would have have grown without the antecedent lie? Yes. "It was cruel and potentially senseless pretending, but you did," she shrugged. "Complete your contrivance, I am no longer at your disposal."

Wearing:

Reducio

When Oliver whirled on him and drew his wand, Jack couldn't help but smile sadly a little. He would have tried to pick up the wand for the loyal Ravenclaw, but he knew better than to give Oliver even more reason to think he was against them. Instead, he simply waited for the rounded fellow to take his protective stance, watching him skeptically raise a brow at Jack's words.

Jack himself put up his empty palms to express he meant no harm. He wondered idly what Oliver and Erin had been through together, silent until Erin addressed him herself.

Her very real tears abruptly wiped any trace of a smile or amusement from the redhead's face. He listened intently as she spoke, his eyes never leaving her distraught face. He forced himself to look upon the misery he had caused this poor girl no matter how it stabbed into his heart. It was pain he knew he would have had to face sooner or later; his punishment for allowing her to believe in her false truths. However, he didn't want her to be under the impression that everything about him was false.

"Each and every student has a different experience," he answered calmly once she seemed to be finished. "You and Oliver seem to presume that there are dualities dividing things like 'theirs' and 'yours' or 'friends' and 'no friends' or 'outside' and 'inside'. I don't blame you; that's an easy presumption to make. But it's not true. Nothing is as simple as black and white. There will always be exceptions and shades of gray in between. In fact, despite that everyone might use the extremes as a frame of reference to determine where they are between 'all' and 'nothing', guess what? Everyone is some shade of gray."

Jack turned to Oliver. "Listen here, Eagle. I've known people who claim to have a million friends, but none of them have the strength of friendship you just showed you had for Erin just now. I daresay you have more loyalty toward each other than most Hufflepuffs have ever even known with another person. So in the end, who is really on the 'outside'? Who's richer in friends - the lion or badger with a thousand acquaintances, or the eagle or snake with one or two true people they can rely on?"

Exhaling deeply through his nose, he closed his eyes for a second before opening them to meet Erin's wet ones once more. It was then that he realized with a start what the purple-haired girl had just pulled off her neck. His eyes widened, his lips still slightly parted, but he waited until she had spoken her mind once more before trying to respond.

"I'm not being sentimental; I don't like letting my emotions taint my reason and logic. This is the truth. All I've ever told you is the truth. Yes, I know I led you on and that what I did hurt you. I agree it was cruel and I regret that, but I never lied to you. Not once. I meant every single thing I said."

Jack kept his palms still up when Erin took a step closer, curious about this version of her. It was the one she and Thomas had both been sure that Jack wouldn't have been able to accept. But...was this it? Was this really her without her false emotions? Or did the effects of the charm still linger? Because as far as Jack could tell, she was still the same girl. There was hardly anything different about her. He almost wanted to smile in relief, but refrained from doing so. The look in her eyes was still as dangerous as ever if not sharper somehow.

"But being alone is better than being in the company of apostates and fabulist."

"I agree," he told her, speaking more softly when she advanced. "That's why I've avoided making friends as long and as adamantly as I have all this time.


"But you were different," Jack insisted. "That's what got me interested at first, and then worried. You seemed to prefer dragging around some boy named Parce and calling him your boyfriend. You even took Thomas to be a friend of yours despite his terrible treatment and opinion of you. So, seeing how desperate you were to try to make some connection, I wanted to try to show you what true friendship is really like." He cast her a meaningful look. "It seemed easiest to start from what opportunity I had been given rather than bursting your bubble to start from scratch. Especially when you seemed so...genuinely happy."

The boy bowed deeply then, lowering himself until he could no more without falling over; the top of his red-haired crown exposed to her. "No," Jack said. "You were never at my disposal. I was, and still am, at yours."

He lifted his head a little then to speak more audibly. "I'm not going to ask your forgiveness because I know I don't deserve it; not yet. I still plan to try to earn it, though." The Slytherin boy glanced at Oliver. "What I do want to ask for is your help. Not that I deserve that either, but this isn't just about me or us. This could potentially be about everyone at Hogwarts - and even some who aren't. If nothing else, I want to ask this of you, Erin, because I know you care about this school and its students possibly more than anyone else."

Jack slowly straightened back up to address both other students before him. "And another reason I wanted to invite you to this ball, Erin, was because you seem happiest when looking into conspiracies and trying to right whatever you think must be wrong. You're exactly the sort of person everyone needs right now. You're experienced and good at solving the sort of mysteries that we have proof are currently afoot here.

"Also...we may not be able to choose what bullshit happens to us, but we do get to choose how we deal with it." He extended a hand to Erin.

"So...will you please accompany me to the Blossom Ball?"

Interacting with: @Erin Ryan & @Oliver Hart

Alexander seemed to think for some time regarding Aida's question. Then he gained a mischievous smile. "Well for normal crafts maybe some padded leather armor would be nice. If I could so enchanting I think it would be funny to make a sword." He stretched his hand out and did an almost half-circle, in a dramatic gesture.

"The SWORD of Slytherin. Now that might just get the Gryffindors riled up." Alexander then realized the situation they were in and sobered up a little. Then he continued to speak.
"I think he would make more of a target. You can't really remain hidden in the sky and you make ideal target practice."

He then stared down into the quidditch pitch before speaking again. "Maybe some kind of magical conjugation. The Slytherin common room recently got attacked by shadow spiders who were dispelled with lumps. So it might be a similar conjugation or creatures."

He then looked at the crowd of students and spoke again. "I suspect it will probably be several hostiles. A large quantity of creatures or people is needed to successfully attack such a large group as this." Alexander gestured to the large crowd with an open hand.

"But other than that I have absolutely no idea."
As Aida spoke about quidditch friends Alexander nodded but gave Aida a concerned look. Did she feel lonely? Was this some kind of indirect message?

As Aida continued to speak it became clear on the look of her face and the tone of the conversation that she felt sad and only continued to grow so. So Alexander did not directly respond to the questions she asked but rather said something else.

After Aida had smelled the bluebells Alexander spoke. A little squeamish but not much. Trying to turn the conversation towards something far more positive."So what did you enjoy the most back home? You told me you used to explore the surroundings and read but what else did you do ?"

Interacting with: @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood

Mentions: @Erin Ryan @Jack Burnett
Another in between post.

Oliver held out his pudgy hand, taking the charm. His mouth was open as he stared at it. Erin had never given him anything before, besides bruises, tears and lacerations between the cheeks. He glanced up at Erin momentarily, his heart was pounding hard. So much so that he was surprised by the throbbing coming from his hand. Or at least he thought it was his hand. Oliver looked at Erin again before placing the charm in his shirt pocket pocket under his jacket. He'd ask about the whole thing later, quite confused why mid conversation she'd hand him her necklace. Had this Jack given it to her? He doubted it, perhaps he had promised it for him one day. He really didn't know what to think, it was especially odd for the boy. He couldn't feel any pulsating from the charm as it was now resting against his heavy beating heart.

Jack's raised hands made Oliver fully lower his wand, his wrist losing his stiffness. As he spoke, Oliver found himself glancing to his left, looking through the gaps in the house colored fabric that covered the inner sides of the stands. He could see flashes of spells being fired. Was there fighting going on? Oliver was meant to be security for the night, but that didn't matter now. He cleared his throat as he looked back at Jack, noticing that he was actually beginning to talk to Oliver.

"Listen here, Eagle. I've known people who claim to have a million friends, but none of them have the stength of friendship you just showed you had for Erin just now. I daresay you have more loyalty toward each other than most Hufflepuffs have ever even known with another person. So in the end, who is really on the 'outside'? Who's richer in friends - the lion or badger with a thousand aquaintances, or the eagle or snake with one or two true people they can rely on?"

Oliver smiled and nodded to the nice words, then immediately returned his face to blankess. They were true, he was richer with Erin. But he completely missed the point if this somehow let Jack into the equation. He was a liar, in all of Oliver's year he had never truly lied to someone. Maybe told them he didn't toot when he did, but those were white lies. Jack's lie was as black as venom and would stain Oliver's perception of him.
As he listened he realized that Jack had deceived Erin into thinking he was her boyfriend. Oliver wasn't aware it went that far. Inhaling deeply, Oliver completely built a wall between himself and the words of this boy. How could he take a word from this kid's mouth, it hadn't even been a day since he was deceiving Erin, not even an hour. With a clenched jaw, he looked on at the Slytherin's explanation. Huffing audibly, Oliver's hand clenched around his wand.

"So...will you please accompany me to the Blossom Ball?"

Oliver snorted, a pig-like eruption escaping his nose. He raised his brows, looking at the lowered Jack. "Uh... Erin?" he muttered, raising his wand and gesturing to it.

Outfit:

Reducio

-

interacting | @Dmitri Jones

mentioning | Cecily Quinn

Why hadn't she brought a book? Well, yes, Cecily hadn't been very approving of the idea, but surely there was some way she could've snuck a book with her, even a small one. She could've shrunk one with a Shrinking Charm and brought it with her by hiding it in her belt—against the rules to use magic, true, but she was already here, so might as well not have double standards. And then a simple Engorgement Charm would've been all too easy to use, and maybe she wouldn't be here: bored, just a little annoyed, and still without her cupcake.

She almost snickered. Her, considering breaking this many rules in one night. Dorian would be proud. A little sadness washed down the irritation. Maybe that sickness really did change her.

Someone said something from behind her. At first she didn't even notice that the words were aimed at her, ambient chatter already categorized into background noise so she could think properly, but the voice seemed to stand out, focused in her direction. There was nobody near her. Cel turned halfway, looking over her shoulder to see a student with pale hair and black attire with a book in the seats. Well, then, looked like someone stole her idea. She was jealous.

Then the words registered, and she rolled her eyes. Okay, fine, she was short, and she was asian, and she was very often mistaken for a first or second year, but come on. Clearly somebody had transcended to godlike levels of unnecessary assumption. "Who're you calling kid, dipshit? I'm a Third Year," she half-snapped, the harshness of the words coming out of her mouth surprising even herself, even as her face and tone stayed soft, amiable. She was really living up to Dorian's image—those words seemed to have come straight out of his dictionary.

"What makes you think I'm waiting for a date?" Cel said incredulously, tapping her foot on the ground. Bored again. The notion was almost laughable, that she was waiting for a date. Even getting a date had barely even occurred to her, only thinking of it briefly when she heard some passerby muttering to each other about it. She'd just gotten back here, after all, and certainly Dorian would've nagged her about it, but Dorian wasn't here, and she had other things to focus on. "The only thing I happen to be waiting for is a cupcake and, more likely, a catastrophe." Obviously something was going to happen, after all. She nodded toward the book he was holding. "That's wise."

-

Interacts with: @Oliver Hart, @Jack Burnett



The thing is, he had been lying to her from the start. Not just lies of omission, neglecting to tell her the truth, that he was merely a look-alike. That he did not know her. That they in fact were not a couple. To not pretend that they were. To give her this false, cruel hope. What bliss - not just the high but also the fall that she denied herself right now. "I had questioned it before. Professor Bercegeay getting your name wrong," of course that was an easy sell because it was what she wanted to hear. It was what she wanted to hear again, that she was mistaken and that everything was fine. That it was somehow her fault, that she was being overly emotional. But there was no emotion in this, it was a cold, hard fact. "The jealous altercation we had the day LeStrange came back from the dead," the first time 'Paracelsus' had shown any initiative or interest in her. "My intentions and beliefs regarding what we were had been clear, yet through willful omission and lies," not just on his part but on the part of every person around him "perpetuated this charade for an unknown purpose or goal where I was irrelevant beyond a tool."

Guard my heart well, it is fragile. Oliver held a heart in his hand, not that he realized it but he could feel it. That thrumming, bounding sensation within the copper metal.

"If for nothing, you're a confident liar," she observed. "All these fancy reasons and nice words," she sniffed the air and took another step towards Jack Burnett. "But you are a stranger to me. A stranger that allowed me to know a person I imagined," not Paracelsus and not Jack either. "Love is rare, you don't have it," in fact the had only felt love twice. Once an erroneous, likely hormonal moment of her own and the other from Howard. Fleeting. "Fear, if so you hide it well,"[/color][/b] she added. "Anger," she shrugged "it was a cruelty but your persistence makes me feel that it is untrue." She shook her head side to side. "Such a waste, you have much worthy of envy," that went beyond her carnal want for his physical form which would likely persist.

"You are a shade of grey," she exhaled. "Nothing there. No color. No spark. No soul. Sure, you have them, but you waste what we," she was not referring to Oliver at this point but his mother "lack. Take for granted what I have endeavored to find. What his mother lost." She wasn't crying, that stopped the moment she handed the bauble off to Oliver. "Just a shell by choice going through motions that have no reason, just false passion." Erin was almost as strong as Quinn, the difference between them was meager (10%). She could hurt him, give him a reason to scream or cry even if it was not emotional. But to what end? She lacked the passion to even harm him, he was just a shady boy that for whatever reason decided one day it would be an interesting diversion to pretend to be someone he was not.

He thought she enjoyed her conspiracy theories. He truly did not understand her. "Why would you think I enjoyed believing that everything around me was about to die, was dying or was already dead. That their memories seemed to wash away like footprints in the sand. My desperate pleas for help from other students," even Oliver "and Prefects," such as Fawley, Lowe, Healy and Avery "and even Professors as high as Heads of House," she was referring to Head of House Browne "either reinforced or completely ignored me." Yes, her theories seemed mad and in many ways she was wrong, perhaps even insane. "That was not satisfaction," she cocked her head to the side "that was []hell[/i]. Which was ultimately a good time," just not in the way Jack believed it. "Terror is an excellent catalyst. Like pain. Regret, Jealousy... Wrath," not a good sign "they compel you to do something. To no longer remain complacent. That danger is near and that you need to flee."

He wanted her to return with him to the ball. To what end? To satisfy what motive? His dignity. To let him believe that he won? To lead her into the maw of the very giants she had been fleeing. He extended his hand, so she took it and cranked it behind his back. Had this been an emotional response, she would have dragged him back to the castle for an evening he could only hope to forget. However, it was not. Oliver had her heart in the most literal sense. However it would feel moist in his hand or his pocket. Had he looked he would find blood.

Be careful, it stains.

If successful she would use her brutish strength to crane Jack's arm behind his back to the point where it hurt but did not quite pop his shoulder out of the socket. She would drag Jack back to the dance as requested, toss him at one of his many friends. The boy was undeniably popular, popular enough that all of them kept his secret. Whatever purpose they had or part they played in tricking her would soon be thwarted.

Attempts to arm bar Jack. Returns to the dance.

"Well don't you two look beautiful," he greeted the girls with a smile. Liv was wearing a pale yellow dress, perfect for the young Hufflepuff witch, while Haven wore a soft periwinkle. Upon his initial arrival, Haven seemed to let out a scream. Had he scared her, or just surprised them with his presence? He hadn't kept his reservations about attending a secret from any of his friends, so perhaps they weren't expecting him. At the same time that Haven screamed, Liv too let out a noise, yelling his name in excitement, or maybe surprise. "Oh! Uhh... Sorry Haven, I didn't mean to startle you..."

Charlie looked at all of their outfits when Liv mentioned them complimenting each other. Blue and yellow of course always looked nice together, and gray - the color he was primarily wearing - was such a safe choice that it would look good regardless of who he was standing next too, or possibly dancing with later in the evening, if of course he found himself dancing at all. He wouldn't mind it of course, there were plenty of beautiful girls at Hogwarts, some in his classes, some in higher years. There was a particularly stunning fourth year Gryffindor girl he had seen around school that he would be more than happy to dance with... if she ever would bother to give him the time of day. But alas, she was much to far out of his league. And besides, Charlie didn't even know how to dance anyway, he was almost certain he'd look ridiculous if he tried. Looking down at the main dance area, he could see students dancing together and wondered if they all felt as silly as he knew he would down there. "Do you think there's ever been a secret ball before?" Liv's voice brought him back up to them.

"Hmm?" he involuntarily replied before the question had reached his brain. He wasn't sure how something like this ever could have happened before, and if he were being honest, he didn't know how they were getting away with it now. Were the teachers really that oblivious? Did they all just happen to be away for the evening? Or did they know and were turning a blind eye? "Yeah, I don-"
"Do you think the others are coming?"

To this he also wasn't sure. He hadn't seen Aly in the Common Room on his way out, so he wasn't sure if she was already somewhere in the crowd, or if she had chosen to stay in for the night in her dorm. None of their other friends were in Ravenclaw with him. He was certain that if anyone would be coming, it was Kaden though. A boy like that would never miss out on such a party as this. But where he was now, he couldn't be certain. For all he knew Kaden would have been out in the middle of the dance floor, or even waiting to make a dramatic and fashionably late arrival. Charlie never knew with that boy, and it kept him on his toes.

Charlie wouldn't be kept waiting long though, as soon, Kaden Truell arrived in a baby blue suit. "Charlie! You're looking as dashing as ever. Care to dance with me?" Dashing? Him? Charlie wasn't sure if 'dashing' was quite an appropriate word to describe him. And the idea that Kaden would want to dance with him of all people? "Me? You want to dance... with me?" he asked, a bit surprised. "B-but we... I... I mean I'd love to but... Kaden, I don't really know how." Dancing with a boy hadn't been how he had pictured the night. He wasn't opposed to it, Kaden was one of his closest friends after all, and there was something uniquely special about Kaden Truell, that whenever he came around... "Would you teach me?"

Wearing:

Reducio

"If you admit the purpose or goal was unknown to you, how can you say with certainty you were irrelevant beyond a tool?!" Jack asked, sounding almost pleading. "I'm many things, yes, but I'm not a liar! I mean what I say! And I'm a less of a stranger to you than Parce ever was!"

It didn't seem to matter what he said. He thought that perhaps, somewhere, she was hearing him; listening to him. She simply wasn't allowing his words to affect her. She wouldn't believe him. And he couldn't blame her.

What she said about him wasting what 'they' lacked, though...even if he didn't know who 'they' was, perhaps she was right there. The grass was always greener on the other side. She had endeavored to have emotions and he had striven to dull or lose his. Was he wasting it, though? Who could really say who was better off? Jack glanced briefly at the Ravenclaw out the corner of his eye. Was...had Oliver's mother lost her emotions somehow, too...?

"I could just as easily say that you take for granted what I've done my best to attain," he answered quietly, staring determinedly at the grass at the edges of his formal shoes. "Maybe I wouldn't be trying so hard to convince you of something you refuse to believe if I had. But against all logic and reason, I do. Because I care about you, Erin. I've cared since I first started to get to know you!"

If he could have removed his heart as easily as Erin had removed hers, he probably still wouldn't have been standing there like a madman waiting to get pounded into the ground or broken against a Quidditch stand support beam. Alas, for him, it had never been so simple.

His emotional attachments bound him where he stood like chains to the Earth; painful and unyielding. Perhaps even fatal if he could not escape them in time. Well, he knew he had this coming sooner or later. At least it had been his choice; his bed he had made, so he could sleep in it without any regrets. At least he wouldn't hate himself for not having tried.

Yes, terror, pain, regret, jealousy, and wrath were all wonderful motivators, it was true. They were what compelled a sane being to act; to remind them their lives were to be valued and to flee. But, in contrast, to resist them was an insanity that it seemed only the most sentient beings were capable of. It was also an insanity that many humans twisted to call courage. Bravery.

Was that what he was being just then? Courageous? Brave? No, to Jack, it was just downright stupid. He had every reason to turn around and just go to the Quidditch Pitch to check on his charges and Vlad as he'd said he would do. And yet, there he was, still standing like the fool he had always done his best to avoid being.

When Erin grabbed his hand and yanked it back behind him in an arm bar, he bit back a strangled yelp, wincing in pain, but did not resist. He walked as she forced him toward the Blossom Ball, still trapped in her intense hold, unsure of her intentions, but at least glad of one thing.

At least he was still being truthful in one aspect - that he remained at her disposal. If, from her perspective, he had used her, the only proper response was to allow her to use him in return; in whatever way she so chose.

Action: Leaves the Quidditch Stands while being arm barred and led by Erin toward the Quidditch Pitch where the Blossom Ball is being held.
Interacting with: @Erin Ryan & @Oliver Hart