| Title: Oh door, my door. (Part 2) Time: Saturday, April 03, 2004 and Sunday, April 04, 2004 The Thespians: Natalie Swanskii, Door (NPC by Moirae), Tressa Potthast and Pascal Curio Location: Staff Building - Faculty Offices |
| The flames are hot, scalding Natalie's skin and robes as she wavers as she stands near them, but she doesn't seem to notice. Her eyes grow distant, her face suddenly cold, dimming, and she seems to shrink within herself. "Katrine?" She frowns, confused. Wait - back in the office. What? Her brow twists, then grows worried. "You should move away from the puddle..." The words are said dully though, as though she didn't care much. She draws closer to the fire. |
| So perhaps it's a good thing that one: Pascal did not leave when Natalie told him to, and two: that Pascal didn't step into the room the same time Natalie did. "Swanskii," he says warningly, but then he notices the look on Nat's face, and Nat's form moving closer to the fire. He gives his wand another flick and swish, muttering a flame-freezing charm rather blindingly at the flames upon the door. Who knows what kind of magic Aspen's used, and hopefully this will work. At the same time, he also steps towards the door, inching closer and closer to the threshold, in an effort to pull Natalie away from the flames. |
| The flames turn cold, then die abruptly under Pascal's charm -- die because there really is no need for them. Nate is already ensnared in the other charm, and now it only waits for Pascal. |
| Oblivious to Pascal, Natalie moves through where the flames just were, her steps dazed. She goes in any direction but straight, an outstretched hand trailing fingertips along the wall as an almost afterthought; perhaps she is using it as a comfort blanket. It looks rather like she needs one. Once in the corner she finally drops to her knees, then tucks them up to hug against her chest, eyes staring blankly outwards. Her voice stays soft, unemotional. "Hmm? ...No. It hasn't changed in the last... just go back to sleep." |
| "Hey, Swanskii. Wake up!" Pascal calls to Natalie, his right foot crossing the threshold, and then his left. He only does this after he notices the heat dying away from the flames; he's too absorbed with Natalie that he doesn't even realize the flames are gone. As soon as his body enters the frame of the door, the charm hits, and 'Swanskii' dies on his lips as the blood drains from his face, and his entire body doubles over. A dull thud as he slumps to the ground, and he's supported only by the inner part of the doorframe. His lips move, no words come out, and his eyes roll lazily, looking at Natalie in the corner, and then back into his head. |
| Professor Potthast always has taken her time, hasn't she? Most teachers, one would think, would come running at the first hint of... an explosion. (In reality, Tressa was distracted by something else and is merely late, but it sounds better if you make it sound like she's taking it all in stride.) Finally, though, the door to her office swings open (brilliant idea there, by the way, causing trouble right in the thick of the teachers' headquarters) and in a multi-colored swirl she appears. "What the..." The scene... is peculiar, and Tressa approaches cautiously. "Swanskii? Cruise?" (Yes, she knows it's Pascal. Nate doesn't.) She comes dangerously near the doorway but doesn't step inside just yet. "The hell?" |
| It's been a rather agonizing long time inside Pascal's mind right now, and the form of Elijah is still slumped against the door and doubled over, but it's sunken slightly since his original collapse to the floor. His eyes are still scanning the room without control, the green colour glazed over as he looks at everything and nothing all at the same time. Tressa's voice is heard in the back of Pascal's mind, but it doesn't ring any bells, as his lips continue to move without any sound coming out of them. His head finally drops lazily to the side, and that's when he sees Tressa. He looks past her. What's she doing here? |
| There is a length of time as Natalie stares out at nothingness. Her eyes, half lidded, do not flicker, her expressionless face does not twitch; she could be a statue were she not rocking lightly back and forth, back and forth, in a child-like fashion. A tear even makes its way slowly down her cheek. For a second, the briefest moment, her face tightens then as Tressa's voice cuts through the illusional hostility in her mind, but then it is gone and she is back staring at damp stone dungeon walls. |
| All right, if Tressa hadn't realized that something was wrong before (doubtful) she can hardly help it now. This is Nate Swanskii and Pascal Curio. They shouldn't be cowering all over the floor. Fortunately for all three of them, she deduces at least accurately enough that she refrains from coming in after them. "Clever, Aspen, whatever you did." Her wand comes out and the end wiggles, a long rope twining out to wrap around both students (the boy who is a girl and the girl who is a boy). "Come on now, let's get out of Professor Farreau's office, right?" The rope begins to pull itself back into the wand. |
| The rope snatches at Natalie's waist and she does nothing to stop it as it drags her rather uncerimoniously outside. Once there, the child is able to shake her head, still looking dazed. "Wha--?" She stares at Tressa, eyes focusing for a moment before going back to their dazed look, then refocusing. Clearly the room's effects last outside of it as well, though not as strongly. "Uhn... why am I in the jello puddle?" Then more clearly, "What the FUCK?" |
| Pascal's head bangs rather sharply against the frame of the door, but as he's still in the room, he doesn't really do anything. His body slides smoothly across the floor and then he's out of the room as well, his eyes clearing up slightly, though his face is still rather pale. "It hurts," he manages a hoarse whisper, and then looks up back again at Potthast. Nate's 'wtf' statement is also echoed rather loudly from Pascal as well as he lies sprawled onto the floor. |
| Tressa concurs, though she doesn't say so aloud. Let's make a mental note to treat Aspen's office with the same respect we'd treat Aspen, in the future. "Come on, boys..." ("Boys" as a very loosely used term, here.) The ropes disappear and the professor uses the wand to conjure up two glasses of water, though whether she's going to try to get them to drink them or simply plans on dumping them over the students' heads is unclear. "Try and relax." While she tries to figure out what's going on. Is she taking it a little too fast? Maybe, but at least she's not interrogating them about what they were doing in Aspen's office in the first place. |
| "There is..." She stares. Her eyes go wide, an arm flings out, "Poppy don't -- " Face turns into a grimace, then startles. "Professor? There are - illusions!" Natalie looks surprised that she managed to spit that out, before her eyes drift back to her mind-scene. A moment or two later, her head shakes again, slowly. "What... what is going... Time Turner?" |
| "Why are you in the attic, Potthast?" Pascal manages to gasp, his whole body folding in upon itself again as his forehead hits the floor with a rather dull crack. "He will get --" his words are ragged, and he mentally returns back to the staff building, looking around from his fetal position on the floor, listening to Natalie. But before her words can register, his mind is gone, and a low moan comes from his mouth before he rolls over. |
| "Would've thought you'd know better than to try to get into Farreau's office, Swanskii," Tressa says, bending over Pascal, who seems, she thinks, to be a bit worse than Natalie. "Cruise, can you hear me?" She's sure it'd help if she used Pascal's real name, and she just might if she has to. "You're at Scattergood, in the offices." You've just done something really, really stupid and Tressa frankly doesn't feel very sorry for you. "Come on, Cruise, listen up." |
| "Thanks, Tressa. I love you too." Natalie thinks to herself. Unfortunately, she also mutters it hoarsely under her breath. Well, maybe then she is better than she'd thought if she can still be sarcastic. "Holy - FUCK! DON'T FUCKING WAVE THAT THING AT ME OR - or - " Blink blink. Doors. Hallways. Not stone. Check. "Why - why - how - what? My matchbox!" The girl sprawls for Aspen's door. |
| Somewhere, in the back of Pascal's conscious mind, he's aware that nothing is really the way it is at the moment. The subconscious has completely taken control here, and so Pascal is forced to live out, again, one of the points of his life that he'd much rather not. Cruise? What the hell does Elijah have to do with anything? Or so Pascal actually tries to say, but Farreau's spell is still in effect on the boy, so his mouth opens as no words come out yet again. Another guttural moan, and his drops so that his eyes look into Aspen's office. "Forget your fucking matchbox," he hisses at Natalie. |
| "Swanskii!" Pascal's on his own--Potthast jumps up from the floor and yet again ropes whip out from the tip of her wand to catch Natalie. No. She is NOT going back into that office. "What kind of idiot ARE you, Swanskii?" Tressa snaps. "You stay out of that office, got it?" For the love of... BAD Nate-girl. NO cookie. "And while you're at it, care to explain what you were doing there in the first place?" Sure, he's still delirious, but he kinda scared her there. |
| No... cookie!? But mommy, I ated th' stinky peas and everything! "I was... I need... fucking jello. Why is the jello everywhere. What the fuck. Who built this fucking chamber, and what in their right mind... and did they see a psychiatrist..." Her little tirade is said almost entirely monotonously, as though too weary to put effort in to it. Her eyes flutter to the Professor, and she struggles faintly against her binds. "My - my matchbox. Farreau has... has my... wand? No. Matchbox." Natalie stares at the wand in her hand, as though she hadn't seen it before. She continues almost incoherent mumbling. "Andrew's? No... Andrew isn't even done yet... how is this possible?" |
| The only thing that Pascal notices is that the shadow belonging to Tressa has disappeared from his side, and he winces slightly, though he continues to be curled upon the floor. His mumblings actually make noise now, but they're just mumblings; still no words can be made out from them. Both his hands rise to his temples and Pascal clasps the sides of his head. Nat's not supposed to be in his attic, and neither is Tressa. His hair isn't normally spiky. He's not a he. "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON." A lapse, and he falls back to his mumblings, turning though so he sees the two cloudy figures of Natalie and Tressa. |
| "You'll have to ask Professor Farreau that." This serves as an answer to both Natalie's and Pascal's... inquiries. "You can do it when you're explaining to her why you were breaking into her office." Gee, Tressa could be a LITTLE more sympathetic about this, couldn't she? Her expression does soften, some. She steps, turns and grasps Pascal's wrist firmly. "Come on, Cruise, up. You're both going to the Infirmary where you can't hurt anything else." |
| "Breaking...?" Natalie loses this train of thought and slouches disinterestedly. nails dig deeply into one arm, though without interest, as though she were trying to find something to do but was failing sincerely. "Cruise? Cruise isn't here... isn't even at school... why is Andrew's wand here? Andrew isn't here..." The offending item if squinted at. She seems to have clenched her fingers around it tightly, so that ner knuckles are turning white. 'Whoa! Ropes? Wait! Professor... can you - get this - off us?" Hopeful? ...No, wait. Back to being dazed. |
| By now, Pascal has managed to come to his senses, though by not much. He's now slumped against the wall as Potthast continues to ask Natalie questions. When the professor reaches and grabs his wrist, however, his first instinct is to violently jerk back, and he ends up smashing his opposite elbow and head against the wall. "OW... MOTHER FUCKER!" The physical pain seems to have dulled the mental pain just slightly, and his green eyes flare up as he just glares, letting Tressa tug at him to get up. |
| "Watch your language," Tressa comments mildly. "Relax. In fact, both of you relax. We'll get it taken care of and all you'll have to worry about is thinking up excuses. Now..." Since neither student seems particularly inclined (or, in fact, capable) of doing coming themselves, the professor waves her wand once more, levitating them both and trailing them along as she leaves the offices for the infirmary. |
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