⫶ girls’ lavatory - out of order

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：silas ciarán。⁰⁴ She has always been her family’s golden child. But as her parents’ only child, it wasn’t very hard to be. With her as the constant center of attention in the De Lisle family, becoming the favorite was done without any effort, however, what did label her as their picture-perfect daughter were the distinct characteristics that her parents cherished. Perhaps it was because she was the perfect combination of their best traits. Verteris De Lisle, a known chaser in Quidditch, had always valued physical health, and pushing oneself to be the best version of themselves through exercise. A routine is what he treasured, and always saw physical health and discipline as the key to a person’s self-satisfaction. Her mother, on the other hand, was more guarded; well-kempt in comparison to her somewhat unruly husband, with her strict belief in keeping up appearances while bearing a silver tongue—both of which were weapons that essential to a woman. Intelligence holds more power in the world, and even the most influential men in a country can easily get overthrown by a woman who has read more books than they. And like her parents, Emerald De Lisle is everything her parents wanted her to be: an athlete, a straight-A student, and a woman who knows how to hold her own—the epitome of a perfect child.

But like her mother, she was quiet. Kept to herself with a deep distrust not only for men, but for the people outside of her family. The only difference was that she, who relied heavily on only herself, trusted no one. Not even her father, who had bestowed a gift of natural talent upon her. Not even her mother, who taught her how to be everything a man doesn’t want her to be. How can she trust them despite it all, when she knew that their distrust had extended to the day she was born? When they have chosen to to lie to her time and time again to put her heart at ease for the worry that burdens her feeble shoulders? Perhaps it was to save their own skin, to spare their own hearts from the weight of their untruth. She understood it well; they are her parents, after all. Why would they wish crisis upon their little girl, who had been nothing but good to them the moment she came out of her mother’s womb?

Selfish they were, really. Perhaps it was just another ruse; yet another pose for the cameras. Smoke and mirrors to retain an image that easily fooled the public with a simple smile whilst tucking away the nastiest parts underneath the rug that would otherwise disconcert those watching. The nastiest things. Oh, what she would give for them to tell her the truth, to put an end to her suffering that was her ceaseless uncertainty. To quell the heartbreak that comes with it.

If only it were that easy.

She had discovered far too much, yet known too little. And it pained her so.

She saw a man once. Blue eyes as deep as the depths of the ocean, with a downturned mouth that almost looked like a snarl. His skin was fair, but not as fair as the hair atop his head, silver and brilliant like the moon in a starry sky. He wore a suit. He always wore a suit, she remembered, and it made him look as though he commanded the room with just a single look of his eyes. His eyes. They strangely looked like his father’s. A coincidence, maybe. Her father had deep blue eyes like his, but none of the blonde hair. However, she couldn’t ignore the uncaniness in their gaze, filled with secrets hidden deep within their soul. And her hair. Her own silvery hair that matched the color of that man’s was yet another reminder that her father had hidden more from her than he let on.

So she too, hid. Under the guise of a person she had come to recognize as herself, fooled by her own deceit. Brown hair. It suited her. No one would ever suspect its inauthenticity when her parents had locks of the same shade. Not even she, who had grown accustomed to the shade, the appearance a normal that she had become fond of far too quickly. As if she allowed herself to get caught up in the lie. Ironic, isn’t it? Like father, like daughter. 


Emerald took one last look at the girl in the mirror. In the reflection she was just a girl, short in stature, who stood as tall as her shoulders were proud. Her eyes, a rich shade of dark brown, were impassive in their gaze, with a hint of discontent peeking through as she studied her features. Her hair in particular of course, locks a gorgeous, deep brown, worn long in waves that hung just a few inches above her waist. Blonde in color, naturally, but hidden from the rest of the world to see. And for now, she found contentment in that. At least until she uncovers the truth—that is, /if/ she uncovers it. 



As she turned to leave, she bid her friend adieu, entrusting her with the secret she had not made known to anyone else. And Myrtle, of course, vowed to keep her word, though the smile painted on her ghastly face was acknowledgement that the vow was spoken with the promise of an attempt, and not solidarity. Regardless, it was enough for Emerald.

“Goodnight Myr—“ Her goodbye was interrupted with a gasp of horror, lungs nearly winded why by what she saw in the mirror.

Fair hair, as bright as the moon, and not of the brunette she reverted it to not a minute before. At least, she swore she did. She would be damned if she failed a spell, and even if she suspected she did, the glimpse of brown was telling enough for her success. It took all of her strength to keep her heart from bursting out of her chest. And though she didn’t want to admit it to herself, she knew that there was, even the smallest chance, a possibility that not only her pair of eyes had bore witness to her bout of vulnerability. Even if it was for a second. But a second was enough for someone to see, wasn’t it? Oh, how could she be so foolish?

Winded by the terror that settled in her core and aded all of her being, she turned to survey the room. “Check the stalls, Myrtle,” she whispered as she lifted her wand.

“Lumos.” Every corner was empty. Every shadow left untouched. Not even the corridors outside of the lavatory was occupied by a single body. And when Myrtle returned with a shake of her head, she concluded that perhaps she had been hallucinating. That the anguish in her head and heart had brought her to slip. It’s unlikely, it really was. But the idea was better than the thought that someone was watching.

“Crinus muto,” she murmured with a wave of her wand, and the secury blanket that was the brown tinge of her locks had made its return.

Yet another exhale, perhaps to banish out all worry, to relieve herself of the burden that would materialize if she thought about it any longer. She spared one last glance within the walls of the bathroom, and with that, she spun on her heels and slipped past the doors to return to the comfort of her bedroom, without a second thought to look back.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：celeste delvaux。⁰³ She arrives early, of course—Eleanora prides herself upon her two things: her punctuality and her capability to retain information in classes despite getting zero sleep. Both of which, contribute to her perspicacity. Today, she dons casual wear of muggle jeans rather than her uniform, choosing to forgo formality since they will be working on their potion. When she arrives twenty minutes early with the needed materials, she sets them up on the counter and hopes silently that Myrtle is not around—having to deal with a Ravenclaw and a vociferous ghost will make this meeting even more dragging.

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ Tonight was like every other night.

Long, seemingly endless hallways were filled with an eerie stillness. This exact time was the only time of day in which the silence became unbearably deafening. Rife darkness inched its way in and crawled through every unlit corner of the castle, its insipid presence tainting what was once a crowded and boisterous setting—it was like a bad cold, debilitating its host with a quiet virus until it consumed them and revealed itself with fitful coughs and the victim’s fatigue. The dark devoured the walls, veiled it in its blinding poison. Conveniently, the cold drafts of winter chilled the air enough to frighten students into their beds where it would be safe and warm. No being in their right mind would compromise their comfort for a casual late-night stroll through the tenebrous stone halls.

Except, maybe, for the few who were daring like Silas. And of course, prefects who had no other choice but to patrol the castle at this hour.

He wondered how the prefects could do it. Along with being a model student, head boy or girl, tending to their extracurriculars, keeping up with their social lives, and appealing to the professors—were they insomniacs too? Behind their immaculate and kept visage, did their enervated minds fill with a never ending flow of numb thoughts. Did circles darker than the black lake incessantly paint themselves under their eyes—to which they hid from the world?

What fears and trivialities plagued their youthful days? Or were they capable of upholding all of their responsibilities, genuinely thrilled to fulfill their duties?

It wasn’t uncommon for a Ravenclaw to stricken themselves with questions that led to more questions which led to other questions. Sometimes he wished he wasn’t gifted with such a curious soul—an insatiable soul that thirsted for everything and nothing all at once. Sometimes...just sometimes he wished he wasn’t himself. Because maybe if he wasn’t, he would actually be able to sleep at night.

So, of course, he was awake as the usual. Unwillingly.

Silas would have been roaming the forest since he wasn’t exactly fond of studying during his sleepless hours—but with snowfall blanketing the ground in icy precipitation, he spared himself the tedious act of slipping into his coat and robes. Instead, he made rounds with the prefects, concealing himself with a perfunctory skyward flourish of ‘cave inimicum’. The charm was one of the many which he had fully mastered after employing it during countless ventures; conjuring its effects at full was second nature. He found it entertaining to watch the prefects walk to and fro, believing they were alone—performing silly things that one only did when no one’s judgmental eye could criticize them. His attention wasn’t solely on them, however. He was not a creep.

While he followed them through the empty halls, his mind wandered. He used the time to mull over all that troubled himㅡfrom his upcoming exams, to the murderer of Mr. Draco Malfoy, and whether thestrals long ago struck a deal with Death which allowed them their invisibility from all who had not witnessed and come to terms with the grave reality...why Hagrid was absent during one of the most perilous spider attacks Hogwarts has seen, and this strange, foreign feeling he’d get his chest when he was around a particular person. If he earned a galleon per thought he had, he would probably be one of the richest wizards alive. So being, he had other things to think about.

Until he crossed paths with Emerald De Lisle, the Slytherin prefect.

Despite being one among the many who kept to themselves, Silas heard plenty about her. She was a force to be reckoned with—small in physique, but not of the mind and magic. He was scarcely curious about Emerald, so he thought about turning back and walking the other way to return to his dorm and spend the rest of the night with his nose stuck in a book. Then she made a turn into the infamous out-of-order girls lavatory. Knowing a thing or two wouldn’t hurt, would it?

The Ravenclaw male followed her in with stealth. It was apparent that she didn’t need to use the restroom, given that the plumbing in this one was broken. So what was so heavy on her mind that she ended her rounds earlier than usual? Even though he was hidden from plain sight, he found cover behind a wall that divided the stalls and watched her as she gazed upon her reflection with a look of antipathy subtly etching itself onto her features. Was she unhappy with the way she looked? Even with her confident mien which was detectable from a mile’s glance?

He felt as if he had stumbled upon a too intimate moment, one that he shouldn’t have witnessed. And it became more so when he heard her utter ‘reverte’ and the deep brown tint of her tresses fell away to a divulgence he was not expecting. Her hair had turned the color of the moon. The astonishment was evident on his face, discernment in his gaze as his brows furrowed at the sight. Silvery blonde was such an odd shade for hair, but it suited her in a peculiar way. While he thought it sublime, she seemed abhorred by the spectacle with how quickly she recolored it back to the earthy tinge.

But as if by the commandment of higher beings, maybe this was the moment for her to sit with it. To face her true form and perhaps find home in such a dislikable appearance. Silas slowly traced the air with the tip of his wand.

“Revelio.”

Tonight was /not/ like every other night.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：silas ciarán。⁰⁴ They say that mirrors were portals to hell. She didn’t really know why until she stared at one for too long. It was the hour after she had to parole the corridors of the castle, fulfilling her duties as house prefect as she always did, or else she would be completely remiss if she didn’t.

As always, she traversed the hallways, from oak door to oak door, past portraits and gothic windows that were as dark as the night sky outside them. It was routine. Always the same dreadful task, and never exciting. Why she had to do this alone was beyond her, but she never complained. At least, not vocally. All that she expelled was the occasional sigh, an exhale that denoted just how exhausted she was. And with the sleepless night she had, she had no energy to continue further. At least, for now. Her gaze shifted to the watch on her wrist, and wondered if finishing her rounds fifteen minutes early would be terribly irresponsible. Most days, she would reprimand another for doing so, but today, she needed a break. She desperately needed it. Luckily for her, the room up ahead was the out of order girl’s lavatory, home to the ghost of Myrtle Warren. Perhaps she could be wonderful company.

“Hello, Myrtle,” she spoke, though the ghost had yet to make herself visible. Myrtle, though a noisy, wailing, gossip of a ghost, has always been a friend to her. Or at least, tried. The Slytherin rarely shared anything with her for fear that the wench would spill it to another, but she at least enjoyed the chats they had. Myrtle, though a bit annoying at times, at least had a bit of empathy. And for someone like Emerald, it was enough. Just enough.


“Hello, Emerald,” Myrtle swooped up beside her, as the latter gazed upon the mirror. Her voice was shrill, yet gentle, as if she knew that the witch was not in the mood for idle chatter. And she did. She knew very well. Emerald always came to this bathroom to be alone, to take a breather whenever the burden of her troubles became heavy, and when the bustling energy of hundreds of students became far too overwhelming. 


The girl gave her a small smile in greeting, though her gaze was directed completely at the mirror. In the reflection was a girl, short in stature, yet she stood as tall as her shoulders were proud. Her eyes, a rich shade of dark brown, were impassive in their gaze, however a hint of discontent peeks through as her attention narrows in on her hair in particular. Her locks were a gorgeous, deep brown, worn long in waves that hung just a few inches above her waist. They compliment her fair skin well, a beautiful shade of warm ivory. Her hair was, as it appears, naturally beautiful, and suited her so well. But it was anything but natural. It, and shamefully so, was a lie.

“Reverte,” she said with a wave of her wand to her hair, the incantation barely audible. She closed her eyes briefly, taking in a deep, preparatory breath, before gazing upon her reflection once more. Her hair, previously a deep brunette, had been replaced by a bright, silvery blonde. A stark contrast of lightness versus dark, however she saw it the complete opposite. To her, it was a horrific sight, something she certainly was not prepared to see, for she kept it hidden deep in the confines of her mind from both public eyes and her own. And she was not yet prepared to see it, still, choosing to return to the disguise that has been her security blanket all this time.

“Colovaria.”

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：maya yim。⁰⁴ @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：alistair di angelo。⁰⁴ “You’re a ghost, don’t act like it would harm you in any way.” Reyna grumbled. She was annoyed with Myrtle more than any other, had she been the one who had gotten them into this chaos. Her eyes widened in the shock as the creature lunged at Alistair. “Reducto!” She exclaimed but even as the charm hit the spider, nothing happened. “What?!” She shrieked in shock. What the hell was wrong with her wand? She smacked the wand against her leg before pointing it at the spider once more. “Reducto!” Blue light flashed from her wand and hit the creature, however, it moved away just in time for only three legs to be consumed. At least it had jumped away from Alistair back onto one of the walls. “Are you okay?” She rushed to the male, picking up his wand and handing it back to him.

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：maya yim。⁰⁴ @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：reyna corvin。⁰⁴ The charm that Maya produced seemed to have mixed effects on the spider. As Reyna's stupefy began to become unstable and dissipate, the arachnid began to regain its bearings only to smacked in the side with Maya's charm. The mere force of her spell sent it flying into one of the stalls where Myrtle was peering over the top of the door. With a ear-piercing screech, she scurried over to the other side of the lavatory, just on the other side of the sinks. "Why did you have to blast it TOWARDS me?" She questioned, sparing a glare over towards Maya. This is the moment to strike. Rushing over to the singed stall, Alistair readied himself and held his wand at the ready. The moment he pushed the door open, the incantation of the spell fell from his lips. "Reducto!" However, the spider recovered much quicker than he anticipated and lunged at him the moment the door swung open. The blue, crackling lightning that his wand produced was forced up towards the ceiling as he dropped his wand and held the spider's pincers in place, preventing it from clenching down onto his neck. "! Help me!" He cried out, turning his head towards the witches to his right.

[] sorry about the deleted post. i'm dumb and forgot something.

[post deleted by owner]

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：reyna corvin。⁰⁴ @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：alistair di angelo。⁰⁴ No longer does she feel the burden of handling the Arcomantula before her all alone, seeing as the two Ravenclaws come to the crying aid of Myrtle, as well as her. Reyna is first to cast a spell upon the spider, watching as it pauses it its place. With this though, it startles old Myrtle, her dramatically whaling to get rid of the furry creature, despite it's static position. "Myrtle please calm," she attempts, looking to Alistair briefly as if to call for help regarding their ghostly friend. "There was a charm Hagrid specifically put in the howler, I just can't recall—" another moment passes, and her worry grows as to just how much longer could Reyna's spell hold the spider. Ah, right! Holding her wand towards the Arcomantula, she waves it steadily before calling out, "Arania Exumai!"

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：maya yim。⁰⁴ @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：alistair di angelo。⁰⁴ The female had been on her way to study as she heard the high screech from the girls’ lavatory that was out of order. “What is going on?” She questioned as she saw another student, Maya if she remembered her name correctly, holding her wand out to a wall. “How did this thing get inside?” She grabbed for her own wand. Before she managed to use it, another male rushed inside, Alistair who she knew all too well from their house. “Sounds like a plan.” She turned towards the creature which now stared at them. “Stupefy!” The creature stopped moving, her massive eyes still staring at them. “Go on, I don’t think it will last long with just my wand.”

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：maya yim。⁰⁴ @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：reyna corvin。⁰⁴ Had Alistair not already been on his way back from the stone bridge, he might not have heard the distressed calls for help echoing throughout the lavatory and corridor. Picking up his pace, he filed in behind the two women that were already present--Maya and Reyna. As Maya spoke, Alistair's mind raced with thoughts, trying to figure out the best course of action. "I don't suppose either of you are opposed to killing it, right? Because we could certainly try. I feel like stunning it first, then using reducto while it won't be moving seems like a good course of action, right?" He reasoned, staring at the spider who was seemingly still fixated on the ghost, and it seemed confused by it's lack of lethal effect on her before turning its attention to the three students. Slowly, he readied his wand.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：reyna corvin。⁰⁴ @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：alistair di angelo。⁰⁴ She slightly jumps back at the slight of the large beast ramming itself into the wall in an attempt to attack their infamous Myrtle. "Please calm, I wouldn't want you to attract any more of these spiders," she pleads towards the weeping ghost, to which Myrtle responds with a grimace. "We just need to—stun them, I guess, until Professor McGonagall can do something about the infestation." Warily, she slips out her wand from her boot, holding it up before watching as the Arcomantula now turns to her.

[] just smth small to get it goin

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：maya yim。⁰⁴ @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：reyna corvin。⁰⁴ @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：alistair di angelo。⁰⁴ .

【 ᴛʜɪs ᴘᴏsᴛ ᴍᴀʀᴋs ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴄʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛᴜʟᴀ ɪɴᴠᴀsɪᴏɴ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ 】

               ˚✧₊⁎  ɢɪʀʟs' ʟᴀᴠᴀᴛᴏʀʏ - ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ  ⁎⁺˳✧༚

❛  The large beast certainly thought it was achieving something when it approached the translucent figure, that was Myrtle. Its hairy legs clicked as it approached her, for some odd reason being the most idotic of the bunch and trying to eat a ghost. Students only appeared by the out-of-order lav, when they heard the sickeningly high screech,  “MONSTER, MONSTER IN THE GIRL’S LAVATORY!” Of course, nothing had happened to Myrtle, as the beast merely slammed itself into the wall whilst trying to feast on her airy body.  ❜

— ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ᴏɴᴇ ᴀᴄʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛᴜʟᴀ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪs ʀᴏᴏᴍ

         【 ɴᴏᴛᴇs 】
－ please make sure to read and comment on the announcement.
－ tag one another.
－ use the dice roll room to determine the general outcome of your actions.
－ you have three days to complete your tasks.

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ (I requested for Maya to respond because I wanted to establish something and make sure it was okay by her first. After this I planned on going back to turns, however, I don't really do group plots anyways and wasn't expecting this to be one)

[ y’all i thought we were supposed to take turns omg ]

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：maya yim。⁰³ @－ ❛ ʜ ❜：lylani pradit-gaza。⁰³ @－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ By the time the Hufflepuff acknowledged his words, it was far too late. The others already knew that she was there and possibly she could have distracted them and led them out of the bathroom with no concerns arising. But the girl was a terrible liar, her voice and stance clearly showing that she was hiding something. That something being him. At this point, they would have to play the part of what he had tried to let her avoid.

Liandro’s hands found her raising arms, pushing them down so that they were at the Hufflepuffs sides, his own hands slipping around her slim waist. She was bumped back enough for them to just barely be seen in the entwined position as he leaned in close to breathe a whisper in her ear, “Just play along with me.” The angle would make one think that they were sharing a kiss. At that, he raised his head, turning his attention to the other Hufflepuff and Emerald. “Well, hello there Emerald...and..” he didn’t know the other’s name, assuming ‘Lyle’ was just a nickname amongst friends, thus he just nodded. “I hadn’t expected anyone but Myrtle to disturb us.”


(Sorry it got a tad long)

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：lylani pradit-gaza。⁰³ @－ ❛ s ❜：liandro kang。⁰⁴ @－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ it takes another second to process the underlying meaning beneath his words for her lips to form a small 'o', nodding in agreement. of course she wouldn't want others to misunderstand her intentions for coming to the abandoned lavatory, though perhaps it's already too late for that as she's well greeted and acknowledged by the other peers in the room. a panicked expression splays over her countenance before she backs up against the bathroom stall door, her arms nearly rising as if to guard what remains behind it (note that her attempt proves to be of no use). partially relieved that myrtle occupies their attention for a brief moment, she can only flash an unsure smile. "oh, i see you two are friends. were you here to visit her?" she babbles, mostly for the two to not question exactly why she is visibly seen protecting one particular stall, but undeniably, she's sure it's to come. "it's quite late though, isn't it?"

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：maya yim。⁰³ @－ ❛ ʜ ❜：lylani pradit-gaza。⁰³ @－ ❛ s ❜：eleanora hwang。⁰³ "It would probably be best if I didn't. Besides, if I did hear someone, then its best if we weren't caught in here together." He didn't know the Hufflepuff, but rumors do spread about situations such as these. Why else would a male student be in a cramped stall with a female student. To prying eyes, it would look heavily inappropriate. But much to his dismay, the girl called out to the others that had entered. "," he breathed to himself when it was clear that /Emerald/ was one of them. If it had been someone from another house, he could pretend he was never in here. But the Slytherin prefect, who knows how he could explain himself. And he was not read to let the girl know that he was just falling apart in here.

His forehead pressed against the stall wall as he tried to figure out how he would get himself out of this predicament.

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@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：maya yim。⁰³ @－ ❛ ʜ ❜：lylani pradit-gaza。⁰³ @－ ❛ s ❜：liandro kang。⁰⁴ The Slytherin snaps her head over her shoulder towards the sound of the sudden voice behind her, so quickly that she might have inflicted serious injury to her neck if she had done it any harder. She nearly flinches at the sight of the girl, who, if she didn't know any better, seemed to have magically appeared at the spot that she thought of as empty. in a deep breath, she opens to respond, but just before she could utter out even a single world, one of the occupants of the lavatory calls out their names. Emerald clears , flustered, and straightens her posture, a sheepish smile overtaking her visage as she lifts a hand to wave at the familiar student in greeting. "I was coming over here to—" A shrill scream of delight intercedes, and although she is as equally delighted, the prefect covers her ears and shakes her head at the sheer apparition of her friend. "Myrtle, what did I say about quieter voices?" She steps forward whilst reproaching the floating girl, wagging a finger in her direction. "I'm sorry, Mera, it's been so long!" Myrtle replies, and Emerald could not help the overjoyed smile that stretches from her lips. "I missed you too, you old brat."

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：lylani pradit-gaza。⁰³ @－ ❛ s ❜：liandro kang。⁰⁴ @－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ his surprisal to her presence doesn't pass her, it is what actually prompts her to deliver an apology his way, especially upon his intentions to be left alone (funnily enough, this would be the last place she'd recommend). not to mention, she holds her tongue as his cigarette extinguishes within the puddle of the bathroom floor, initially wanting to advise him this may not be the appropriate place, but deciding against it. "i'm sorry for having barged in, please stay." a moment passes before her gaze trails to follow his, catching that brief glimmer of fire from the entrance of the lavatory. surely that wasn't myrtle playing tricks on them, right? "i don't think so. i didn't plan on bringing company," she murmurs to him, visage contouring into that of evident confusion, as she peeks her head to the side of the threshold, being met with two well familiar faces. "oh, mera, lyle—" now, she smiles. "what're you two doing here?"

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：maya yim。⁰³ @－ ❛ ʜ ❜：lylani pradit-gaza。⁰³ @－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ It was as though a rock dropped in his stomach at the sight of the Hufflepuff. She had opened the door to the stall he was in, causing him to mentally cuss himself out for not properly locking the door. He knew that some girls did come here when they were desperate enough, but he had always had the luck of having nobody but Myrtle enter the lavatory. With his having come here to just let himself go, and allow his emotions to show on his face, for once, Liandro's face turned bright red at the embarrassment of being caught. The cigarette that he had already lit, dropping into a puddle from one of Myrtle's many tantrums.

"I don't mind her here. And I come here to be alone with my thoughts," his eyes shifted from the Hufflepuff as he stood up from the damaged seat. Out if the corner of his eye, he saw a light flicker and he heard voices whisper. "I won't be needing anything. Did anyone follow you? I should probably go if more girls plan to use this restroom."

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：maya yim。⁰³ @－ ❛ s ❜：liandro kang。⁰⁴ @－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ history of magic was never a favorite for the hufflepuff lass, and as the class enters a particularly dragging topic, lyle finds herself making her way to the girl's lavatory - a masterful scheme to relieve her of boredom.

in a bout of mischief, she decides a detour to myrtle's grounds would be the perfect remedy. yet, once she nears her prospect, she's met with an unlikely sight. "oh-"

the trotting of footsteps come to a halt once she sees the robed figure by the entrance. she wasn't really expecting any company - and judging by the two other voices echoing within the lavatory, it looks as if the slytherin girl isn't the only one. "what's going on inside?" the question comes as a wispy mumble, a cautious stare trying to make out the spectacle from inside.

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：maya yim。⁰² @－ ❛ s ❜：liandro kang。⁰⁴ "Lumos," she whispered, the end of her wand glowing and brightening an otherwise dark hallway.

Though Emerald never took a particular liking to ghosts, a particular female residing in the girls' lavatory has always amused her so. Sure, her high-pitched wails were incredibly ear-piercing and annoying at times, but it was bearable, especially when she often spewed gossip without regard. Seeing as how she has not paid the ghost a visit for the past couple of months, the Slytherin decided to take some time out of her day to greet her old (literally) friend after her last class. Mirthful and excited to come face to face with the ghost, she skips along the corridor, tattered textbook clasped tightly against her chest while her wand held is out in front of her.

Her steps slow, however, at the sound of three voices, two of which were distinctly familiar. Carefully, she treads, silencing her steps as she slowly approaches the entrance.

"Nox," she murmurs, the light extinguishing before she cautiously peeks into the room.

@－ ❛ s ❜：liandro kang。⁰⁴ to be quite honest, the place itself already spooked her, but the lingering whines and echoing groans of the abandoned, myrtle was plentiful enough for her to avoid the girls lavatory. though, as dusk takes over the starry firmament, she finds herself pushing past the 'out of order' warning, soft steps taken until a deeper voice accompanies that of myrtle's wispy one. careful eyes meet a particular stall, and through the transparency of myrtle's figure, does she meet a male that evidently remains bothered by her ghostly presence.

"i don't think she will," she says quietly, peeking her head out into the bathroom stall just slightly, but with a polite smile. "are you alright? maybe need some company?"

He had gotten stressed out again, pushed himself to the point of wanting to hide. Upon hours of studying for his classes, quidditch practice and even studying his own material for the future, all the while trying to pretend he was unaffected by it all, it was tiring at times. And thus, he had found himself slipping into the girl's lav in which Myrtle resided. It had become a habit of his since his first year at Hogwarts, though it has twisted in ways in which he would now neak a smoke while in there.

"Ooooo did you come in here to cry again?" The sickeningly high voice called to him, Myrtle's head popping through the door to look at him in his chosen stall. He merely rolled his dark eyes with a sigh. Why he came here whenever he was on the verge of a mental breakdown was beyond him, but back when he was a kid, he didn't know of Myrtle. At this point, it was pointless to pretend she hadn't seen him like that before. "I did that once, Myrtle. Will you ever leave me be when I'm in here?"