Nowhere to run OPEN

@Christopher Madson

Piérre wasn’t exactly sure what it was about trouble, but it always seemed to seek him out specifically. Didn’t matter if it was a situation he found himself ill-located in, a problem that he found himself falling into, or even a problem whose origins had begun with him. It just so happened that he was inducted into every problem that arose it seemed.

As it appeared, today would be no different. The halls were empty on a Sunday afternoon, no classes in session. Many of the students would be no doubt in their own common rooms, enjoying the lovely day off and waiting for the snow to come down harder and harder as Christmastime grew closer and closer. Personally, Piérre rather enjoyed the snow, even if he wasn’t really used to the chilliness that came along with it. He had taken the opportunity to get out of his common room and walk the halls, talking to some portraits along the way.

Reducio

Rolled a d4 to determine house color for the day:

1- Hufflepuff
2- Ravenclaw
3- Gryffindor
4- Slytherin

Number Rolled: 1
Hufflepuff

Piérre drew his black and yellow striped scarf tighter against himself. He had crocheted it only a week ago and wanted to wear it out on that day. While he did have a lot of work to do, and he should have probably been doing his homework at the time, he really didn’t have enough effort to focus upon it at that moment.

Suddenly, Piérre was shoved to the side as a large group of green robes pushed past him easily. They appeared to all be a group of Slytherin boys, toting along a smaller boy who looked no older than himself, also garbed in Slytherin attire.

”Watch where you’re going, Hufflepuff!” They snickered at the yellow clad Gryffindor as they breezed by, taking a sudden sharp turn into the Abandoned toilets.

Now, Piérre knew very little about how large groups of gentlemen usually acknowledged bathroom habits, but he knew enough to recognize the telltale sign that the boy’s weren’t just there to take a dump. From seeing immature boys in his public Muggle School, and having been a victim of some on several occasions, he recognized a gang beating when he saw one. Those boys were looking for something. Something to hurt.

Piérre would have none of it. He had stood up for a Dhampire in the Masquerade, and he would be damned if he wasn’t going too stand up for another individual, whether or not they needed his help.

As he neared the door, he could hear the confrontation within. Something about being embarrassed by the Great Lake, exacting revenge, but the term that caused Piérre’s eyes to widen, was when the term ‘Mudblood’ was insinuated and how they were going to teach the boy a lesson about having impure blood.

There weren’t many things in the world Piérre stood up for, but the bullying of others was one of them. Perhaps it was because he knew what it was like to get thrown against a wall and get pummeled so hard that he couldn’t breathe, or end up in the nurse’s room for hours on end, or even so much that he would lock himself in a bathroom stall, eyes wide, praying that he wouldn’t be found. That was what had caused him to make jokes and cause others to laugh. You couldn’t beat someone up if you’re laughing too hard to breathe. Piérre had learned to do just that. Kill them with comedy.

The familiar, burned, exploded bathroom met his eyes as he took in the scene of the Slytherin boys with a small first year in tow, squaring off against... another Slytherin boy? Piérre assumed he was the one they had been calling a Mudblood, but to Piérre he looked confident and unabashed, having just agreed to combat by lifting his fists. He had to be a native Londian or Irish of some sort, very much unlike him, the Britalian with out of place, pointed Veela-esque ears.

”Hey. Don’t do that.” Piérre made no movement from the sinks, where he was leaning against. The very one he had been crying over a few weeks earlier. He refused to let history rewrite itself again, especially for another individual. ”You’re no more a Mudblood than he is. Yes, I say the word because you insinuate it by using its proper name sarcastically. I am assuming you are all Pureblood elitists, otherwise you wouldn’t be picking on someone who is just as magical as you are?” Piérre’s words were quiet, hardly above a whisper. His green eyes were slowly narrowing as he scooped out the landscape. True, while he was quite a jester, he had a nasty viscous streak if aggravated or challenged. He was light and fast, and though he couldn’t remember any spells, he still had his white yew wand in his belt, its green handle glittering in the poorly lit bathroom as a powerful, yet perhaps ineffective, bluff. If he couldn’t prevent the boys from attacking, he would at least we’ve as the punching bag. After all, he was the one who was used to it.

Piérre glanced at the boy who still had his fists raised, jerking his head towards the exit of the bathroom. ”C’mon. These guys aren’t worth it. Don’t give them what they want.” Piérre’s eyes softened and there was the slightest choke at the end of his words as he shrugged nonchalantly.

His bottle green eyes flicked to the boy who the Slytherins had in tow. The one that one of the boys had called their brother. Piérre smiled gently at the boy, waving a beckoning hand to him. ”You wanna come along too? These guys aren’t as cool as you think they are. Besides, don’t you want to hang out with people your own age?.”

Interacting with @Piérre Marchonné and @Elena Jangleton

Chris was getting ready for the inevitable attack by the boys in front of him, his fists were clenched tight and ready for use if necessary. When they were about to pounce on their pray someone from behind them had entered the room unnoticed, speaking up so that the lads would hear him ”Hey. Don’t do that.” the boy said as he leaned up against a sink ”You’re no more a Mudblood than he is. Yes, I say the word because you insinuate it by using its proper name sarcastically. I am assuming you are all Pureblood elitists, otherwise you wouldn’t be picking on someone who is just as magical as you are?”the boy added on once more, almost in a whispered tone that anyone could barely hear. Chris stared over the shoulders of the bullies as they slowly turned around, their eyes now focused on the newcomer that rudely interrupted their fun "What are you doing Hufflepuff, I'd suggest moving your sorry face... and ears, out of here before you suffer the same fate as this piece of dirt" smirked the ring leader over to him, his fists clenching and opening rapidly in an impatient way "Muggles like this are mutants, they are undeserving of this opportunity..." grunted the unimpressed leader, who looked to his two buddies beside that nodded their heads in agreement. Beside the group, his young brother looked at the floor in shame. This fun activity they planned before hand wasn't the thing he signed up too ”C’mon. These guys aren’t worth it. Don’t give them what they want.” his voice said to Chris first, who sternly still had his eyes on the ring leader in front of him. They were cold and emotionless, making it hard to truly tell what the Slytherin was feeling at that current time "Dont you worry about me mate..." mumbled back the cornered student in a calm tone. Soon after, the hufflepuff fell on the young kid, his gaze still met the floor with discomfort "You wanna come along too? These guys aren’t as cool as you think they are. Besides, don’t you want to hang out with people your own age?.”

His head slowly raised up and looked over to the other end of the room, tears clearly starting to well up in his eyes as he tried to answered his call. However, when he tried to move forward he felt a sharp grab of his arm "Dont you bloody dare!" snarled his brother as he roughly pushed him to the side, almost making him slip on the slippy surface below. While he cast aside his own brother another student had walked in to join the scene, a girl belonging to house Gryffindor had heard the commotion from outside "Don't you all have something better to be doing than harassing students? said the girl as she stared at the aggressors with an expression to behold "He's done nothing to aggravate you so leave him be, I could hear your commotion from the hallways and it's quite disturbing to be honest so do us all a favour and scram." she added on in the defence of Chris, who continued to look on from behind the bullies "I'm sorry cupcake but this kid deserves everything coming to him, no one ever gets to humiliate either us, especially a bloody muggle!" shouted the leader in a more agitated tone this time, clearly getting annoyed by the constant interruptions "Right, I've had enough! get these two low lifes out of my sight. I want to deal with this slime myself" he motioned over to his pals, who followed his orders without a moments hesitation. They slowly started to make their way way over to the two pupils, their arms starting to stretch out in an attempt to forcefully grab a hold of them. On the other hand, the ring leader had suddenly turned around and threw a punch at Chris, who was ready for such a low tactic to be used against him. He just about managed to duck it, quickly rising up to push him away hard. The fellow Slytherin stumbled backwards and kept his footing, raising his guard up in preparation for another attack "You better be watching..." grunted the kid over to his brother, who hid away in one of the cubicles to prevent him self from being apart of the chaos.

Reducio

Sorry for the VERY late reply to this, and I also give you permission to handle your NPC the way you wish. I'll only be controlling the brother and the ring leader for now, so do what you think is necessary

@Christopher Madson, @Elena Jangleton

Well, things certainly weren’t looking good. The Slytherin boy claimed that Piérre didn’t have to worry about him, to which Piérre only let a tiny smile lift his face, a kind indicator as if to say ‘Well, I’m not leaving until I help.’. By this time, another girl had come into the bathroom, having told off the bullies in the same way Piérre had.

The little boy about his age had looked at Piérre, as if begging to come after him, but the taller boy, the elder brother, pushed him aside and began to cuss Piérre out. As he mentioned the fact that the Muggleborns didn’t deserve to be educated, Piérre’s eyes darkened further. As an Unknown, Piérre took personal offense, and it only fueled his resolve to assist the boy who was like him, considered an outcast by the Pureblood elitists or others who even knew their bloodline.

Without a beat, the leader sent his grunts after the two brave souls who had dared to stand against them. One of them, cracking his knuckles, sauntered to the tiny Piérre. He was easily five and a half feet, towering over the Gryffindor in disguise, and with a large grin, he hooked out for Piérre with a large hand, attempting to grab him by the yellow and black striped scarf Piérre was currently donning. Eyes widening as Piérre experienced a Vietnam flashback of other beatings, he twisted out of the way of the hand at the last second, hitting the deck and crouching beneath the sink in an attempt to affirm a stronger position in the fight which was rapidly unfolding.

”Yer a feckin’ coward, aintcha?” He crowed, crouching down to face Piérre again. As soon as his face cleared the bottom of the sink, Piérre’s hard, tight fist was waiting for it.

With a shout, the boy staggered back, but not before snatching Piérre by the collar with both hands and yanking him out from his hiding place, hoisting him a foot off the ground. Piérre choked for a second, bringing his hands up in front of him and between the bully’s arms, causing his grip to slip and drop the little boy to the ground. With a small yelp, Piérre attempted to slip away and find himself in a more advantageous position, but the bully snatched him by his ankles, slamming him into a wall and dragging him upright to pin him by the neck on the stone of the bathroom.

Laughing, the bully watched as Piérre weakly fought back. After a second, he squinted at the Italian boy. ”Wait a minute... yer the Unknown freak, aintcha?” He stared closer at Piérre, looking at every detail, including his pointed ears and his high cheeks. ”Hey_ hey... It’s the Italian Unknown with the stupid ears! Lookit you! Yer masquerading as a feckin’ Hufflepuff, ya stupid Gryffindor?! Ciao, Ciao, ya little birdie, Ciao-ciao!”

Piérre could only glare at the boy, kicking at the antagonist’s stomach as the racial slurs began. He was no match for the boy, and Piérre knew it. His only defense had been to make sure that he wouldn’t be caught, and he had failed. Here he was again, the weak, helpless child he had been in muggle school, and now that he knew he was magical, he still couldn’t kill those demons.

With a final surge of anger, something Piérre wasn’t used to harnessing, he let out a primal growl, kicking the boy in the stomach and crouching on the floor where he was dropped as the boy crumpled back.

”You have a problem with that, you bully?!” Piérre spat, lunging at the boy with his fist closed. The boy caught Piérre’s fist easily and was about to retaliate, when Piérre brought up his left hand, fingers hooked as he stabbed at the boy’s face, not aiming to blind, but to scratch and distract enough to cause him to release Piérre. This was achieved, and Piérre crumpled against the wall, fists raised. ”So what if I’m Unknown, it’s than being an arse like you!”

Piérre glanced around the area, aiming to find how well the others were handling their opponents. He was obviously doing the worst. He had no spells to cast that he could remember, and he wasn’t strong enough to throw a punch and make it hurt, even though he could probably make it land if he tried hard enough.