Absit Omen RPG

Unaware of any underlying conflict, Elaine had no options but to stare at the sign up with quiet disappointment.  There was so much important learning to be had in these hallowed halls but there were some subjects that were sorely lacking.  Penmanship was, clearly, one of them. 

With the help of one of the more patient older Slytherins, the list was put into slightly more respectable order, before Elaine deftly added her name to the list. 

Almost simultaneously, another name appeared underneath it.  If the rumors were true, they'd be lucky if the museum wasn't left in smoldering ashes by the end of the visit.

Elaine beamed as Contessa spoke of the upcoming holidays and nodded in complete agreement, recognizing her fellow Slytherin's tone with it's three parts genuine excitement and one part showing off.  That's what balls were for, after all: having fun, dancing, eating good food and doing everything you could to show up in holiday dress robes that were just a cut above everyone else's. 

Not enough to be annoying.  Just enough to show you knew what you were doing. 

Which meant that writing and visiting would likely be a given because you couldn't play the game otherwise. 

"We very rarely get snow along the coast.  It would be funny to see it snowing indoor!"  She would have to recommend that to her mother.  "We usually sail down to the Canary Islands or Greece for the Christmas holidays but there may not be enough time for that this year.  But, if you're near a beach, we could always sail up to visit!" 

Elaine turned her attention properly to the Headmaster when he got to his feet, only diverting her attention the hiss a shhh in Wesley's direction.  The Hufflepuff should really know better! 

"Greyfriar won't spike our pumpkin juice," Elaine corrected in full confidence.  "I think it's a warning.  Things have been happening.  Serious things, but my da won't say what."  All Elaine really knew was what her mum had told her: that her da had taken on a number of new sailors which meant they were worried about trouble. 

Elaine glanced past Contessa towards Sulwen.  "Oh let her be," she told Contessa.  It wasn't hard to see her two fellow Slytherins weren't the best of friends but Elaine liked to think she was everyone's friend.  That's how one became prefect one day.

Elaine let out a long, suffering sigh and shook her head.  Shouldn't the reasons have been obvious? 

"Because, it's not very ladylike," Elaine whispered urgently under her voice, as she hurried to collect her hair back on the top of her head and secure it back in place.  She wasn't even sure her mother knew she'd been taught that particular skill and she'd rather it stayed that way. 

Elaine followed Wesley into the darkened room and let the door close behind them.  Even though she was the first to speak, she did stay a half-stride behind Wesley as he took a few strides towards the specter.   

Wesley extended a grandiose welcome to the ghost, obviously trying to make the cute old man feel more welcome with sheer enthusiasm. 

She waited for Wesley to introduce himself before taking a tentative step towards the man to do likewise.  "Good evening, mister," she offered, using that charming voice that always worked on the sailors.  "My name is Elaine Bellamy and it is very much a pleasure to meet you.  Are you new ..."

Elaine faltered, briefly, glancing towards Wesley.  Was it rude to ask a ghost if they were new to being a ghost?  New to being, well, dead?  It felt awfully personal and not the type of thing one said in mixed company.  But, at the same time, wasn't that what a ghost was?  Dead? 

"Are you new to the castle?"  In the end, she opted for a safer approach. 

Elaine covered her mouth with her hand when the ghost turned towards them and then back towards the window.  He must not be in a very happy mood.  Though, she supposed, most people who were freshly dead wouldn't be. 

She glanced towards Wesley and shrugged before looking back towards the ghost.  "That's a very beautiful pendant you're wearing.  Has it been in your family for a long time?" she asked politely, hoping to engage the ex-wizard, again.  "It looks like one I saw a Moroccan merchant selling at a market in Casablanca.  Would you mind if I looked at it?"  She started walking towards the ghost, confident in its inability to do anything to her at the very least. 

Wesley's clever description confirmed what Elaine thought she saw!  "No!  Definitely not either of those!"  From the little glimpse she got, it was also clear the ghost was neither slender nor tall enough for either of the other two house ghosts.  Maybe, just maybe, they had found it! 

Elaine threw an excited grin in Wesley's direction before turning expectantly towards the door. 

"Hurry, hurry!" She prompted, oblivious to the fact that her partner-in-crime didn't actually have any better ideas than she did.  "It's a ghost!  I'll just ... leave through the walls ..." 

They needed to get in before the ghost drifted away.  Poor shy little thing. 

"Ghoooost. Hey ghost!"

"It's not a dog!" Elaine chided, rolling her eyes and shagging her head.  "It's probably not going to come when it's called.  Yes, there.  Tempting it's a much better idea." 

Of course, that would only work if the ghost liked the memory of chocolate. 

Elaine bounced, impatiently and anxiously, on the balls of her feet.  The ghost was so close yet so, so very far - and potentially getting further and further as they stared at the stupid, wooden door! 

She let out a long, suffering sigh and grimaced apologetically at Wesley.  "Alright.  I know this isn't very ladylike.  So you have to promise not to tell.  Reputations and all."  Over the years, Elaine had picked up a skill or two from her father's officers and crew, use of a magical door pick being prominent among them. 

The young Slytherin tugged one of the pins free from her hair, liberating the abundant curls from their temporary bindings.  She crouched down to be at eye level with the door lock and started prodding it carefully with the sharp end of the pick.  "As long as there aren't strong charms keeping it locked, I should..." her voice trailed off as she grimaced in concentration.  It took a few attempts but, finally, the lock clicked and the door swung open. 

Elaine stepped inside the darkened classroom and peered through the shadows at the pearly figure floating in the corner.  She glanced, wide-eyed, at Wesley before looking back towards the specter.  "Hello?" she offered, tentatively. 

The blinking.  The blank stares.  Elaine assumed all of those were Wesley's slow realization and acceptance of the fact that she was right.  And, if this helped the young man show a little more tact when interacting with portraits of an advanced age, than this evening would have been a success. 

Ghost or no ghost.

But, Elaine was still hoping they'd find a ghost. 

"Do you know any knot spells? Can you show me sometime?"

"I do!" Elaine said, brightly, with a confident grin as she made a mental note to watch the sailors more closely over the winter holidays.  "And, I would be happy to.  They are wonderfully useful for a young sailor!" 

After all, young sailors were bold and unafraid of things like dark corridors and poltergeists.  Elaine watched Wesley cast lumos before lifting her own and, after a few false tries, managed to follow his example.  Which, indeed, made the area around them brighter and less creepy but it didn't do much for the dark ends of the corridors that they were walking towards.  That was what more torches would be good for. 

While proper, polite old portraits were clearly Elaine's forte, a tree full of doxies was  clearly much more up Wesley's alley.  The flighty little things completely ignored Elaine's unobtrusive knock but Wesley managed to successfully coax them out of trees with his more forceful introductions. 

Further demonstrating his brilliant aptitude for being a sailor, he managed to bribe information from the doxies with the promise of chocolates and sweets.  Elaine watched, patiently, as the doxies tripped over themselves to get at the bit of chocolate in his hand only and eventually gave them their next clue. 

"Corridor of abandonment?" Elaine repeated, pursing her lips as Wesley busied himself with trying to hand over the bribe.  She was half-tempted to suggest painting in the treat but she knew she lacked the artistic ability. 

"That's on the third floor," Elaine offered, hoping she sounded more confident than she really was.  She wanted to know the right answer to everything but, in this case, she wasn't so sure.  Hopefully, if she believed it enough, she could make it true. 

Elaine turned and led the way back down the corridor, holding out a hand when she reached the corner to stop Wesley.  "Prefect," she whispered, certain she heard footsteps and certain it had been an older student coming to give them detention. 

There was, really, no way to play it cool when a small, orange tabby cat rounded the corner and padded down the corridor towards Slytherin house but Elaine grinned at Wesley and chuckled.  She turned the corner, just in time to see something shimmering and pearlescant glide through a wall and into a storage closet. 

Elaine squeaked and jumped, nearly spilling her cocoa as she tugged at Wesley's sleeve. 

"Did you see it?  Did you see it?" she whispered.  "It was a ghost!  It went in there!"  She hurried over to the door and gave it a solid tug. It was, of course, decisively locked.  "Did you see if it was the Baron or Friar?" she asked, eyes wide with excitement.

Elaine looked at Wesley with obvious confusion and a touch of doubt.  She really didn't understand what was so difficult about addressing a clearly well-cultured portrait with due respect.  "Just pretend they're your grandmother," Elaine offered, as a suggestion.  "Would you call your grandmother 'stuffy and old'?"

Elaine was starting to understand her mother's warnings about boys.

"I think talking to the doxies would be better than running around blindly, don't you?" Elaine replied.  Surely, Wesley could understand that, right?  Honestly, Wesley just needed to accept that Elaine would usually be right and that would simplify things.  Whether it came to winning over respectable portraits with charm, ingredient selection or Wesley's sailor-esque attitude.

Elaine dipped her head in a wise, I know these things fashion.  "You do.  I know sailors - lots of them.  They can be quite crass and rebellious."  Traits which, to date, young Wesley seemed to demonstrate in spades. 

"I bet you could make a good sailor," Elaine added on, conversationally.  "You should try some knot spells; they are quite handy." 

Elaine led the way through the dungeons, past the entrance to Slytherin house and down the nearby corridor.  The initial confidence that her success with Swing Lady faded with the encroaching shadows.  Her pace slowed, slightly, just enough to make sure Wesley was a half-stride ahead of her.  "They need more lanterns in the corridors.  I'll put that suggestion in the suggestion box."  If there wasn't a suggestion box outside the Headmaster's office, she was sure her mother could send her one. 

But, she quickly spotted the large painting of a bald, wintery tree and hurried over to it.  There were no sign of doxies.  Elaine cleared her throat and reached out to knock on the heavy wooden frame. 

"Excuse me, is anyone home?"

Elaine grinned back at Wesley, trying to and mostly succeeding in finding the humor in the idea of being beheaded simply as a result of a lost wand.  She didn't want to spoil the fun by pointing out that that was a terrifying thought, but she couldn't resist patting the reassuring round bump that was the wand in her pocket and taking a comforting sip of her hot cocoa. 

She'd be sure to sleep with her wand under her pillow for atleast a week.  Her hair was far too perfect to be marred by a beheading. 

And, now, the Hufflepuff was mimicking the act!  "Wes!" Elaine half-laughed, half-admonished, covering her mouth with her free hand at the scandal of it all.  Her voice echoed, briefly, down the stone corridors and she wiped her head around. 

"That's awful!"  Despite the admonishment, she was still grinning as she took a sip of cocoa.  "Have you always been this ..."  What word would her mother use?  Well, it probably was not the most appropriate to use in the company of the one it was directed at.  "Devil may care?  You talk like a sailor!" 

A statement that was only true because Elaine only overheard a small portion of what sailors normally said.  Of course, they were always careful to curtail their mischievous ways when the captain's daughter was around. 

Each of the two corridor-sulking children greeted the delicately dressed woman in the painting in their own way.  As Wesley blurted out his question, Elaine primly pinched the sides of her uniform skirt and pointed one foot as she dipped, primly into a curtsy.  The portrait took notice, and offense, at Wesley's more ... vibrant ... introduction before spotting of the curly-haired girl next to him. 

"We apologize for disturbing your slumber, Ms." Elaine piped up.  Her finely polished demeanor faltered just briefly as she shot a warning glance towards Wesley.  "We need her help, don't we?" she whispered.  "And, I don't-" She glanced at the portrait out of the corner of her eye. 

"You wouldn't, by chance, be related to the Spectres or Bellamy's, would you?"

"My dear, I'm a painting."  The portrait's tone was still prim, but less annoyed.  Elaine shrugged, then refocused.

"Really, ma'am, we hate to disturb your rest.  You do look very comfortable ... standing ... there.  But, we really are hoping to find this new ghost.  If you've seen him or her, it would sure be a help to us." 

With a relenting sigh, the woman rolled her eyes and leaned against, rather then sat in, the swing.  "There's a painting of doxies in a tree down the corridor past Slytherin house.  Rumor has it, they were twittering on about the ghost a few days ago.  Something about lurking in old suits of armor.  That's all I know, now, please, let me sleep.  As should you!"

With a broad grin, Elaine nudged Wesley's arm.  "A lead!  We have a lead!"

Elaine stared at Wesley for a moment, trying to determine if his question had been serious.  Did she notice if his head was still attached?  As if such a detail were one that people were prone to overlooking?  A head wasn't shoelaces.  Its proper arrangement on one's neck was far more noticeable then the presence or absence of a bow. 

"No.  I didn't notice." Elaine offered, with no shortage of sarcasm in her voice.  She gave Wesley that down-the-nose look her mother gave her when she was saying something equally ridiculous.  Which wasn't very often, of course.  "Yes.  His head was on top of his neck.  It wasn't propelling through the air like a quaffle." 

How scandalous an image!  Elaine giggled and covered her mouth with her hand.

"That sounds ... that's awful."  Despite herself, and despite her admonishment, Elaine laughed at Wesley's antics.  She was sure the ghost wouldn't appreciate being laughed about.  Certainly, the Bloody Baron wouldn't, she was certain.  He came off as such a grump, sometimes.  "Though, I don't know why a wizard would let himself be partially beheaded," she couldn't help but admit.  "I mean, couldn't a wizard outwit an axe?"  Either for escape or ... a more efficient means of being finished. 

All much more gruesome and morbid thoughts then were Elaine's usual fair. 

With a slight shiver, Elaine turned her attention to the musty-looking candlestick and cleared her throat.  "Mr. Candlestick, sir.  Or - Mrs. Candlestick?"  Elaine cast a questioning glance at Wesley before shrugging and turning back to the painting.  "Could you tell us, please, have you seen a ghost?" 

The candlestick remained perfectly motionless, aside from the persistent flickering of the flames.  "Maybe it's asleep?" Elaine whispered to Wesley.  Tentatively, she reached a hand out and tapped the painted candlestick on the base.  "Have you seen a ghost?" she said, more loudly. 

Despite near death experiences and exploding cauldrons, Elaine and Sulwen were somehow still managing to make a successful potion.  Elaine gently nudged Sulwen and grinned, nodding in the direction of their cauldron.  "I bet ours is the best," she whispered before turning back to Professor Darkfall.

Elaine leaned over the cauldron and gave the potion three slow stirs in the counterclockwise direction.  The dark mixture continued to swirl, even after she stopped stirring.  From the very center of the potion, a long thin string of pearlescent periwinkle flowed out and followed the swirl of the mixture.  It gradually spread out from it's spiral before turning the whole mixture into a shimmering blue. 

"That's so cool," Elaine breathed, sticking her finger into the warm mixture and watching the color flow around it. 

Elaine cast a glance over her shoulder and grinned at the two behind her, hoping they'd seen the beautiful potion she and Sulwen had created.  "Has yours turned blue, yet?" she asked. 

"Oh, I hope not."  Nervously, Elaine turned and took a few backwards steps next to Wesley, as if she expected to see Peeves floating up on them from behind.  Elaine wasn't going to lie: "he scares me.  I'm convinced I'm going to run into him, alone." 

Elaine liked to think of herself as brave and tough but only because she thought of herself as adventurous.  She loved the excitement of exploring new things and meeting new people but she'd always had the safety of her father and the crew.  Elaine hadn't expected to feel so insecure without them and away from home.   

But, there was no sign of the specter so Elaine turned forward, again. 

Elaine drew up on her heels, taking a hold of Wesley's sleeve and turning towards him.  Peeves was loose and he didn't know where they were going?  Or where to even start?  B&S Wold didn't have a more concrete plan?

"I know some of them talk.  Some strange knight with his pony kept telling me I needed to be saved.  I was just trying to find the girl's loo.  He finally sent me to the trophy room."  All in all, the knight hadn't left her feeling confident about the helpful capabilities of paints. 

Elaine glanced around, making sure her curls accentuated the gesture with perfect bounces.  "We're just going to walk up to a random painting and ask, Excuse me, Madam Candlestick, have you seen a ghost?" 

"Well, there's an old storage room down this way.  Maybe there's a bored portrait down there that will help." 

Obviously, Welsey must have gotten lost.  Elaine didn't blame him; she still had a tendency to get turned around if she took a wrong turn.  All of the levels of the castle had a somewhat maze-like arrangement, but the repetitive nature of the dungeons made it even more confusing on the lower levels.  That, of course, made them all the more fun. 

When Wesley wasn't on time, Elaine had started making her way up to the entrance hall to rescue him from whatever peril he'd managed to put himself in. 

She was only a few turns shy of Entrance Hall when she spotted the young Hufflepuff rounded the corner.  With a skip in her step, Elaine closed the distance between them, clasping her hands in front of her. 

This felt so mischievous. 

"Hi!" she offered in return.  "Ooo.  Well, elves sprinkled them, so they are elf sprinkles.  In a way, yes?"  She accepted the cup of cocoa and cradled it between her fingers.  Even though it was still early September, the stone corridors cooled off quickly in the evening.  The warmth seeping through the cup was a welcome contrast to the cold stone. 

"No.  But, that was a couple hours ago," Elaine admitted.  "I'm sure I can make room for more."  Not that she intended on pigging out on sweets.  A few here and there wouldn't hurt, though. 

Elaine lifted the edge of the lid and blew across the surface of the cocoa.  "It sounded like Peeves was causing trouble down the potions corridor," she said, knowingly.  "I recommend we start looking in the opposite direction.  I don't want him messing up my shoes." 

"Have you heard anything about where you think the ghost might be hiding?"

6:05 PM
Just after the start of dinner, a spectacled owl wings into the Great Hall and drops a letter next to Wesley's plate.  After stealing a bite of food, the owl flies off, again.

12:45 PM

After finishing her lunch, Elaine makes a detour by the Hufflepuff table on her way out of the hall and puts the folded parchment next to Wesley's plate.

12:15 PM

During lunch, a carefully folded parchment airplane whistles across the Great Hall and lands neatly crash lands in Wesley's lunch. 

Elaine offered the new Slytherin boy a broad grin and extended a hand.  "Elaine Bellamy," she offered.  She was starting to suspect she'd be repeating her name a lot.  "Nice to meet you, Feliks."  She glanced up towards the front of the Great Hall and watched another student get sorted; it was fun to see where everyone ended up but it was equally exciting to meet all the new people in their new house. 

In Slytherin!

She turned back to the two seated next to her. 

"Yes!  Pellinore Bellamy is my father.  We just returned from a shipment to China.  It was a wonderful place to visit!" 

Elaine turned towards Feliks when Sulwen asked about his father, a look of confusion on her face.  "That is strange.  I hadn't heard Mr. Balfour Spectre had a child.  My grandmother was a Spectre, Curstaidh Spectre."  She turned her curious glance towards Sulwen, wondering how the other had guessed. 

And, while she was at it, listened as Sulwen answered Feliks' question.