Escape To school (Open)

[Liselle Magravine]

The world is governed more by appearances than realities,
so that it is fully as necessary
to seem to know something as to know it.

The early morning was only just touched with a hint of moisture. The padding of paws trailed behind a dark haired witch. King's Cross was humming. It seemed to be a mirror of the bigger city. Even in the early morning, the streets were alive with blossoming activity. The station bustled with muggles and magical alike. A small sneeze echoed behind Velvet. A backward glance told her that Shalom was far from happy with the new arrangement. His usual spotty coat had been turned black with charcoal to make him look more like the usual pet type. On top of that, to Shalom's deepest disgust, a silver colour and lead attached himself to the girl. His blue eyes were narrowed angrily and his tail swished violently behind him. A silvery laugh touched her lips. His expression darkened.
You know. If I didn't love you so much, this would be the final straw, the young leopard told her in a matter of fact way.
The only response he got was a cheeky smile from Liselle.

After the NecoVeneficus had discovered the world of magic, Velvet had grown cautious. For one thing, a leopard as a companion was far from normal. And for one thing, she did not want to be carted off to be killed at the hands of muggles. Although she was a Ravenclaw, she hated muggles for what they were doing- well, more the NecoVeneficus. Her feet quickly made it towards Platform Nine and Three Quarters. As soon as she was out of sight from witch hunter enthusiasts, the better. She got some glances-- mainly to her companion. One man even stopped her.
“Wha' ya gau' 'ere, luf?” the man was dirty and roughly in his fifties. His wrinkles were deeply embedded with grim. His lips curled into a yellow teethed smile. Velvet felt herself flinch. Her feet moved away from the man. A sharp gasp touched her lips as she felt him take a strong grip on her arm.
“No' so fas' luf. Ya one of 'em, arn' ya? 'ey?”
“One of what?” she replied coldly, a small panic growing within.
He glanced around slowly and pulled her closer. To put it simply, he reeked. She pulled back, grimacing at the smell of stale beer and sweat.
“One of 'em wi'ches, arn' ya?” he bared his yellow teeth, stained by tobacco. Liselle simply glared at him. A yelp and his grip was gone from her arm.

Run! Shalom's voices resounded in her head. Without a split seconds thought saw her fleeing.
“Oi!” the man yelled after her. “Come ba' 'ere!”
She slipped into a vacant room near her destination. Shalom's eyes yellowed angrily.
Filthy humans, his voice growled in her mind. She crept over to Shalom and removed his collar, shoving it back into her backpack. She hadn't brought her full truck as that would attracted too much attention for her liking. Instead she wore a small backpack charmed to carry way more than a normal one. Footsteps resounded outside the door.
“... 'ere luv...”
Shit... Velvet swore silently, moving further back into the shadows. She felt where she kept her knives-- which perhaps would convince her pursuer that in fact she was a muggle-- and of course she double checked she had her wand accessible just in case. The refugee camp would be better than this...
Well, as far as I know this is your fault...If you hadn't decided--
Just...
Shalom lapsed into a grudging silence. Unstructured thoughts flitted through Velvet's mind. A raw anxiety touch her belly-- she hated that feeling. Footsteps faded and the minutes ticked by. She took a glance at her muggle watch. Ten twenty. Luckily she had decided to start her day off early.

“Shalom,” she whispered softly.
What? his answer was sharp in her mind, stinging slightly. He was definitely in one of those moods. She rolled her eyes slightly.
“You can sulk on the train,” came her hot reply. “Go check if the coast is clear.”
Grumbling, the overlarge creature jumped up onto a few boxes to peer out the window. He paused for a moment. Velvet looked to the ground, her heart beating rapidly.
No queer old men from where I'm standing.
The only reply from Velvet was a small nod. She adjusted the weight on her back and moved slowly towards the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it-- Nothing. The bustle of the station was normal and the suspicious character was gone. Well she thought so. She made her way quickly to the hidden platform with Shalom trailing her like a shadow. She slipped through the barrier and took a deep breath of relief as she saw the red steam engine. That ten foot dash felt way longer than it actually was. She took in the station, filled with her kind. People were already here-- wishing off children with sentimental goodbyes. Velvet herself didn't have anyone to see off so she simply entered the train.

It wasn't hard to find an empty compartment. The joy of being early. A small smile played on her lips as she dumped her bag of the seat across from her. Shalom jumped up next to the bag and proceeding to lick the black muck off his exotic coat. Small mutters and grumbles came from his side of the compartment which she firmly ignored. From her bag she pulled out a small bowl and water bottle. She then proceeded to pour some into the bowl and put it in front of her companion. The only reply she got was a beady glare.

Ignoring that too she grabbed a book from her backpack and curled up on the opposite bench. It was a book she was supposed to read for Transfiguration before she came back but she had never gotten around to it. A few minutes passed and she found herself unable to concentrate. She shook her head, trying to focus. Still-- she bit her lip in frustration and gazed out of th window onto the platform, hoping the journey would soon commence.

[Ire Wright]

OoC: This post takes place right after Ire leaves This Thread. Just for reference purposes.

Anyway, thought I'd come play with you =]

------

The girl stalked down the aisle in a towering fury as she felt the small amount of control she'd managed to regain crumble away into infinite amounts of dust. The explosion was inevitable: Luckily most people seemed to have cleared out of the area for the moment, and so as she moved toward the compartment she'd claimed earlier she was unnoticed, and unimpeded though the sounds of conversation came from within the compartments she passed.

“How dare they?!” She hissed, slipping into parseltongue as she spoke to the one thing she truly cared about, truly loved in this world. “How dare they... How could they think so...” Her anger was so great as to drive out her ability to speak.

-Perhaps if you had explained your reasoning...- Danh said. All three heads watched her warily, now, from where the runespoor was hidden among the folds of her school robes and hair.

Drawing up short Ire slammed her fist against the wall of the narrow hallway, the material of the unopened letter she still clutched crinkling loudly from the abuse, “They don't deserve to know my reasoning. Don't you even presume that they do!”

The girl began to pace like a caged tiger in the small space, her chest ached like someone had hit her there with an extremely powerful expelliarmus, and she could could feel something constricting her heart until it ached with every beat: Savagely she tore at the feelings, forcefully shoved them away with an amount of terror and denial even as she acknowledged it: If she regretted one thing about this whole mess it was loosing them. She would not, could not lie to herself about this fact but at the same time she refused to let it stop her: She had chosen her path, and she would walk it. If it meant leaving them behind, then so be it; Ire was ready and willing to pay whatever price it took to fulfill her ambitions.

She wrote them off as lost causes.

She didn't need them.

She didn't need anyone.

Continuing to pace she began the familiar mantra in her mind: Emotions are weakness. You must be in control. Only the weak show emotion. Others will use that emotion against you. You must not be weak.

Over and over she repeated the lines that her Grandfather had drilled into her head from tender age of five onward. Stopping her almost frenzied movement at last she inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly her features going slowly blank as her body relaxed, “Control... I must be in control.” She murmured softly to herself. For a moment the brunette stood there with her eyes closed feeling the numbing dimness of her own tight control forcing the fiery tempest of her anger to ebb away: When Ire opened her brown eyes again the walls were firmly back in place, caging the emotion away in that dark corner of her cold mind.

Walking forward once more she made quick work of returning to the compartment she'd previously vacated only to find a group of younger years had installed themselves during her absence. Narrowing her eyes in a chilly glare the girl grabbed her bag from where she'd left it and turned right back around: She didn't have the energy to put up with them, or boot them out. She stalked down the halls, checking each compartment as she passed; looking for one that was either empty, or had someone it in she might dare deal with.

By this time most of them had at least one person in them: It was nearing departure time. However, some amount of luck seemed to be clinging stubbornly to her. As she glanced into the next one she noticed a girl sitting there with a book out, an over sized feline on the seat across from her. Ire hesitated for a moment, part of her wanted to keep looking and hope for a place to herself, but the practical side of her knew she needed to take her chances when she could. Finally after several seconds of debate; and the sound of first year squealing in glee somewhere nearby she reached out and hauled the door open.

Pausing on the threshold Ire stood there with one hand gripping the edge of the compartment door, the letter she'd been carrying the entire trip back from the confrontation with Ziggy and Yemon clasped loosely in those fingers, while her backpack dangled from the other hand. She shifted slightly as though contemplating just turning and leaving again, but then the muscles in her emotionless face tightened minutely and she asked in a cool, if not polite, tone, “Mind if I join you?”

The girl, Ire noted, seemed familiar: She was sure she knew her. She probably did; Ire was a nosy person in that she liked to have her fingers in everyones pie, and therefore paid attention to her surroundings almost constantly: While she may not know everyones names she usually recognized the majority by vague descriptors. She glanced once more at the feline, and it clicked: The girl with the leopard, RavenClaw, a year above herself. One of the great many things about being the rarely noticed lurker like Ire was that people tended to forget you were there, Ire liked that just fine, and while she couldn't put a name to her schoolmate she at least knew who she was in that vague peripheral sense of the word.

So, she stood there silently waiting for an answer as her eyes were drawn toward the window, and she gazed out at the milling people on the platform, the letter in her hand set her on edge and made her nerves tingle. Hearing from Grandfather was never usually good, though she hoped it was just a vague response to the notice she'd sent him concerning the disappearance of her parents. Unfortunately Ire didn't quite think her luck was that good: It never had been before.