honeycoves
back from being concussed (:
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MOOD: scared, confused
OUTFIT: some variation of the Durmstrang uniform that is not a full fur coat. Red blazer, black polo, dark brown pants.
LOCATION: infirmary > dining hall - two
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INTERACTIONS: Naomi, those gathered in the dining hall
MENTIONS: - two
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- two
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TL;DR: Naomi's obscurus scares the shit of him, he goes to the dining hall and delivers a prophecy on the first trial.
- two
PIPER
As Naomi gently took his hand in hers, relief flooded through Piper. She was a sane person, after all, not a knowing, murderous psychopath. She said his name, so gently, so calmly. He dropped his head, lowering his gaze. He hadn't realized how tense he'd felt, he felt like he might cry now that it'd released. He exhaled, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. They were on the same page. They could help each other.
Then, her grip tightened. And then it tightened some more. He raised his gaze, practically squirming under her touch. "N-Naomi?" He asked softly, her nails digging into his flesh. He winced, moving to pull his hand from hers, but her grasp was so firm he was practically immobile. She leaned in, so closely that her breath tickled his nose. Their faces were nearly touching. Her dark eyes bored into his, damn near... soulless. Kiss or kill tension, is what they'd call it if they were characters in a novel or scene partners in a play. He was sure this was kill tension. The voice that left her body lacked the the airiness she had spoken with before. The kindness had turned to a hard edge. It sounded like her heart had disappeared and her chest was empty, her voice reverberating off of her bones, cold.
Naomi began to reference herself in the 3rd person with an icy distance, like she didn't know Naomi. Like she wasn't Naomi. The hair on the back of Piper's neck stood up as she spoke. "You're trying to ruin the game." Her words echoed in his mind. Game? Killing someone was a game? He began to rise. Her nails cut deeper. He returned to his kneeling position on the floor. He tried not to blink, not to breathe. His heart hammered in his chest. The sick feeling was back, and so was the ringing in his ears. Did he charge his hearing aids? He watched with chilling horror as her eyes turned black, like ink running across a watery page, saturating everything in sight until her eyes were void of any color or light.
Whatever was speaking was not Naomi, and apparently neither was that Mahoutokoro boy's murder. Black smoke twirled from her hands, curling around his, softly tickling his skin. What the fuck is happening? He instinctively pulled his arm back, only to be locked into Naomi's grip. She threatened him, if he dared to open his mouth and tell anyone what was happening—what he saw last night, what he was seeing now, both were sworn to be bullets to kill him and damn near anyone who mattered. Whatever this thing was, it was sure Piper would lose. Everyone would lose. Cold dread turned his stomach. He'd seen the future that this thing had created once, a single boy's death couldn't be all the hell it wished to bring.
In one fell swoop, Naomi's grip unlocked and her head fell backwards. She was unconscious again. Piper swiftly rose to his feet, heart threatening to leap out of his chest and onto the linoleum floor of the hospital wing. Goosebumps plagued his skin and the tremors of last night returned. He looked at his hand where fresh blood poured from new wounds. Naomi's soft voice tore his attention, filled with concern and noticeably more Naomi-like than it had been mere seconds ago. "What?" He couldn't quite concentrate. What was that? A possession? He wasn't familiar with possessions. They were so rare in the wizarding world he didn't come across them often. He wanted to ask Einar if he knew anything about possession. He would know about demons, right? He looked down as Naomi was gently grabbing his hand, looking at his cuts. "O-oh, yeah. I'm fine!" He pressed his lips together in a wry smile. "I-I must've cut my hand last night, and reopened it on the chair." He lied the best he could, gently taking the cloth from Naomi before she could notice the equal crescent shapes of the cuts.
He looked down at Naomi, his chest squeezing. How was he supposed to help her? "U-uh," He felt like he had something he needed to say, but the words he reached for vaporized the minute his fingers touched them. "Um..." He began to sway, the room began to swim. His mind... it was so foggy. Clouded. He squinted. It was like he couldn't see. His legs were imploring him to move, to start walking. "Naomi, I have to go." He said softly. He swallowed hard, trying to avoid choking on his own tongue. "I'll check back on you later, if you're not discharged?" He reached for one of her hands, giving it a reassuring squeeze, before leaving.
Dark spots danced along the edges of his vision, his legs moving almost automatically. He didn't even know where he was going. He took a turn, or at leas he thought he did, and muffled voices reached his ears. He could feel the presence of hundreds of bodies bustling around him, but he felt like the rest of his senses were in a tunnel. Had the thing that possessed Naomi possessed him? He could feel his feet moving, slowly, like walking through water. His ears started ringing again. Where was he?
Piper's eyes rolled back, and he stepped into the middle of the dining hall. As if magically compelled, students left a small ring around him untouched as they carefully navigated around him.
Footsteps thundered in his ears, someone breathed heavily like they were out of breath. His vision was dark, he could only catch flashes. Feet hitting the ground. They were running? From what?
A voice boomed out of his chest, foreign and unlike Piper's own. The pens of nearby students began scribbling on their own, ignoring the wishes of their owners. They transcribed what he spoke:
"For our champions our hearts keep,
A journey calls from secrets deep.
Shapes may shift and night may call,
Yet through the dark, the heart stands tall.
As morning stirs and light breaks through,
A soul emerges, clear and true.
By trials met and journey's end,
The fire within shall rise, unbent."
The room fell into a hushed silence, the only sound the uncomfortable shifting of onlookers. Piper's head slowly tipped backwards, pulling him towards the ground, which he hit with a loud and unceremonious thud.
Then, her grip tightened. And then it tightened some more. He raised his gaze, practically squirming under her touch. "N-Naomi?" He asked softly, her nails digging into his flesh. He winced, moving to pull his hand from hers, but her grasp was so firm he was practically immobile. She leaned in, so closely that her breath tickled his nose. Their faces were nearly touching. Her dark eyes bored into his, damn near... soulless. Kiss or kill tension, is what they'd call it if they were characters in a novel or scene partners in a play. He was sure this was kill tension. The voice that left her body lacked the the airiness she had spoken with before. The kindness had turned to a hard edge. It sounded like her heart had disappeared and her chest was empty, her voice reverberating off of her bones, cold.
Naomi began to reference herself in the 3rd person with an icy distance, like she didn't know Naomi. Like she wasn't Naomi. The hair on the back of Piper's neck stood up as she spoke. "You're trying to ruin the game." Her words echoed in his mind. Game? Killing someone was a game? He began to rise. Her nails cut deeper. He returned to his kneeling position on the floor. He tried not to blink, not to breathe. His heart hammered in his chest. The sick feeling was back, and so was the ringing in his ears. Did he charge his hearing aids? He watched with chilling horror as her eyes turned black, like ink running across a watery page, saturating everything in sight until her eyes were void of any color or light.
Whatever was speaking was not Naomi, and apparently neither was that Mahoutokoro boy's murder. Black smoke twirled from her hands, curling around his, softly tickling his skin. What the fuck is happening? He instinctively pulled his arm back, only to be locked into Naomi's grip. She threatened him, if he dared to open his mouth and tell anyone what was happening—what he saw last night, what he was seeing now, both were sworn to be bullets to kill him and damn near anyone who mattered. Whatever this thing was, it was sure Piper would lose. Everyone would lose. Cold dread turned his stomach. He'd seen the future that this thing had created once, a single boy's death couldn't be all the hell it wished to bring.
In one fell swoop, Naomi's grip unlocked and her head fell backwards. She was unconscious again. Piper swiftly rose to his feet, heart threatening to leap out of his chest and onto the linoleum floor of the hospital wing. Goosebumps plagued his skin and the tremors of last night returned. He looked at his hand where fresh blood poured from new wounds. Naomi's soft voice tore his attention, filled with concern and noticeably more Naomi-like than it had been mere seconds ago. "What?" He couldn't quite concentrate. What was that? A possession? He wasn't familiar with possessions. They were so rare in the wizarding world he didn't come across them often. He wanted to ask Einar if he knew anything about possession. He would know about demons, right? He looked down as Naomi was gently grabbing his hand, looking at his cuts. "O-oh, yeah. I'm fine!" He pressed his lips together in a wry smile. "I-I must've cut my hand last night, and reopened it on the chair." He lied the best he could, gently taking the cloth from Naomi before she could notice the equal crescent shapes of the cuts.
He looked down at Naomi, his chest squeezing. How was he supposed to help her? "U-uh," He felt like he had something he needed to say, but the words he reached for vaporized the minute his fingers touched them. "Um..." He began to sway, the room began to swim. His mind... it was so foggy. Clouded. He squinted. It was like he couldn't see. His legs were imploring him to move, to start walking. "Naomi, I have to go." He said softly. He swallowed hard, trying to avoid choking on his own tongue. "I'll check back on you later, if you're not discharged?" He reached for one of her hands, giving it a reassuring squeeze, before leaving.
Dark spots danced along the edges of his vision, his legs moving almost automatically. He didn't even know where he was going. He took a turn, or at leas he thought he did, and muffled voices reached his ears. He could feel the presence of hundreds of bodies bustling around him, but he felt like the rest of his senses were in a tunnel. Had the thing that possessed Naomi possessed him? He could feel his feet moving, slowly, like walking through water. His ears started ringing again. Where was he?
Piper's eyes rolled back, and he stepped into the middle of the dining hall. As if magically compelled, students left a small ring around him untouched as they carefully navigated around him.
Footsteps thundered in his ears, someone breathed heavily like they were out of breath. His vision was dark, he could only catch flashes. Feet hitting the ground. They were running? From what?
A voice boomed out of his chest, foreign and unlike Piper's own. The pens of nearby students began scribbling on their own, ignoring the wishes of their owners. They transcribed what he spoke:
"For our champions our hearts keep,
A journey calls from secrets deep.
Shapes may shift and night may call,
Yet through the dark, the heart stands tall.
As morning stirs and light breaks through,
A soul emerges, clear and true.
By trials met and journey's end,
The fire within shall rise, unbent."
The room fell into a hushed silence, the only sound the uncomfortable shifting of onlookers. Piper's head slowly tipped backwards, pulling him towards the ground, which he hit with a loud and unceremonious thud.
sometimes i act like i know
but i'm really just a kid
with two corks in his eyes
and a bully in his brain
but i'm really just a kid
with two corks in his eyes
and a bully in his brain
code by valen t.
