Hahaha haha.
Is it now?
Hahaha haha.
Is it now?
"You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." - A.A. Milne
[x] Break down hysterically in the face of the end
Since its a tie, I cast a tiebreaker - [x] Break Down Hysterically in the face of the end
Chapter 3. Cornered
When Matou Shinji opened his eyes, he found himself laying on his side, stripped of everything but his undergarments, on the floor of a dark, cluttered room. His arms were bound, there was a foul-tasting gag wrapped around his mouth, and the only light he could see – coming through the edges of a rather inexpertly fastened blindfold, came from a few black candles scattered about haphazardly.
The boy groaned – or started to, before the sound was cut off, with his muscles failing to move, lest they be subjected to torture beyond what humans could endure.
Or at least, beyond what an 11-year-old could reasonably endure.
‘No. I have to…’
With every movement, liquid agony shot through his limbs, across his chest, down his spine.
It hurt. It hurt. It hurt.
It hurt to move, to think, to breathe.
'Where am I?' he wondered blearily, desperately trying to put power in his legs, and finding that he could not – at least not all at once. '
What...happened?'
Everything was so...fuzzy, so unclear. He could hardly concentrate at all. All he could tell was this wasn't Hogwarts. But how...how had he come to be here at all?
'The last thing I remember is walking into Quirrell's...'
Quirrell's classroom. The scenario. 'This is. This is the scenario, isn't it?'
The scenario…
‘That’s right…there was that kind of thing…’
On the first day of class, Quirrell had proceeded to cover some of the expectations for the course, the reading that would be assigned each week, and the short essays that he expected his students to do...
"But those are not what I care about most,” the man had intoned. “I will train you, yes, but I tell you the truth when I say that training alone is nothing. What you learn of how to counter the Dark Arts in the safe environs of the classroom cannot protect you, unless you have not only training, but resolve. The will to act. The impulse to go beyond what is merely required, and the dedication needed to pursue it to its bitter end."
The man had been silent as he looked over at his new pupils, with Matou especially feeling the pressure of his gaze, as it reminded him uncomfortably of his…grandfather.
"This term, you will be tested as you have never been tested before,” the Defense Professor had continued. “I will push you to the limits of what you find comfortable, and as far as beyond as your minds can bear, so that when the Dark comes, you will be ready. Ready to fight it – or to join it – whatever your choice may be.”
An uproar had begun at his words, with some of the students sputtering protests about how they would never go Dark, even if their lives depended on it.
But that…Quirrell had only smiled.
“Believe as you like – again, it matters not to me,” the man had told them. “You may think that there is only one choice, that you would never turn to the Dark, but in truth, it is so very easy to…fall.” Quirrell had chuckled then, a low, rather discomfiting sound that had unnerved the boy from the East. “Remember that those who do evil rarely think of themselves as cruel and unjust. They see themselves as heroes, doing evil in the name of a Greater Good. They have made their justifications, resolved themselves to do what is necessary, and so cannot be stopped with words or entreaties. They have goals – as you do. What makes them dangerous is that they are merely unafraid to do whatever it takes to achieve them.”
He’d let that sink in for a few moments, as his student glanced at each other uneasily.
“The question is, are you? If and when you face what you see as Darkness, will you have the same resolve as they? The resolve needed to defeat an enemy, to achieve your objective, despite everything it might cost you? If not, I ask of you, why would you think you stand a chance?"
‘Now I remember…’
“As such, your first assignment will be something of a test,” the Professor had said to them towards the end of the first class. “To be specific, over the course of the next week, you will all go through a scenario from the Book of Spells, which students will take in pairs. You may choose your partner from this class, or if you wish, I can assign you one, though your performance will be scored individually. For the remainder of the time we have, decide who you wish to work with, and when in the week you would prefer for your…examination.”
Shinji had looked to Natsumi, only to find that Ernest – Ernie – had already chosen to work with her, which left him alone.
‘Right…I told the professor I would work with someone from another class. That I wanted to get the test over with as soon as possible. The Professor told me to come back once classes were done for the day and…’
…was this the result, then?
‘Feh. It’s not as if I can know for sure.’
After all, this was nothing like some training scenario. He hadn’t experienced the transition to the stage. There was no briefing. No voice. No words in the air. No conveniently placed note for him to read – not that he could read anything.
If this is the scenario, there were no instructions to follow. And if this wasn't...? If he’d been kidnapped in truth…
'I have to get out of here.' Matou Shinji was certain of that much, though how he was going to do so stripped to his underwear, with no wand, or knife, or anything, save his wits, he had absolutely no idea. 'At the very least, I have to get up,' he thought, and after what might have been minutes of continuous effort, or hours, he managed to do so, though his legs felt weak as jelly afterwards.
After that…
'The rope. That has to be the first step...'
Or so Shinji told himself, though he wasn’t sure how clearly he was thinking, given how badly everything hurt. Still, the coarse lengths of cord wrapped around his arms - with his arms behind his back – were the most troublesome part of his current situation, so he resolved to free himself.
Somehow.
That, unfortunately, was rather easier said than done, especially with a gag and blindfold still covering most of his face, even if he did have the ability to move around a bit, without succumbing to pain.
For a moment, he considered trying to see if the rope was flammable – and if so – if he could use the candles to help get himself free, but he dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it came.
Even by some chance it was, setting rope on fire with purple-black flames (probably magical) seemed like a pretty bad idea when it was wrapped around him.
Looking around the room more thoroughly, he could make out a few more details in the gloom. There was something like a large cabinet against one wall, and something that looked something like an oversized stool with a metal pyramid mounted on top, in the place of a seat. Even in the dim lighting, it looked...quite grimy, though the edges of the pyramid looked unpleasantly sharp.
'Judas…cradle?’ he thought he recalled. ‘What the hell would they have used that for?' he wondered, but decided that it was probably better not to think about it too much. 'I guess...it will do?'
Maybe.
There might be something in the cabinet, but he wasn't sure how he'd go about not only opening it, but using whatever he found in there. Maybe if there was a knife or something...
'No. I'd probably end up cutting myself.'
There were several wicked-looking pikes mounted on the wall, but he knew he couldn't reach them. So, he took – tried to take – a deep breath to steady himself, though that only made him dizzy as he breathed through the gag. It felt so tempting to just lay down and… 'No. The rope. I have to cut the rope, then get this gag off.'
Thus resolved, he unsteadily backed himself against the rather wicked-looking stool in the corner, until he felt the light pressure of contact with the device.
Bracing himself, he moved, sawing the rope against the sharpened edge over and over and over. It took some time, and the sound of it felt like needles in his brain, but…he endured, continuing on and on. And though the rope had seemed rather sturdy, the metal of the pyramid burned what it touched as much as it cut, and soon enough, enough of the cord was severed that the rest fell away with a wriggle and a shake.
It felt remarkably freeing, even as his muscles ached from the sudden influx of blood, and he had to fight to stay upright from the blood leaving his legs and head. Still, he managed to rip off the gag – and was not completely surprised by how much more awake he felt after that.
‘So it was…’
Yet, even if he was untied at last, that didn’t mean Matou Shinji was out of danger, as he heard footsteps coming down what was probably the hall outside this…room.
Step. Step. Step.
The footsteps came closer, closer, closer still, without end, and as they did, Shinji could feel every muscle in his body tense, his heart beating so loud in his chest that he thought it had to be audible even to anyone outside.
'What can I do?'
He had no way to fight off an attacker if one should come through the door. He had no weapons, no tools, and…
‘Shit.’
After looking around briefly, no place to hide in this odd and cluttered room.
Without any of these equalizers, what chance would an 11-year-old have against whoever – or whatever – put him into this situation to begin with?
‘None.’
Yes, that was the obvious answer, especially when he was already weakened from whatever had been done to him, his body still wracked with spasms of agony.
'There has to be something I can do...' he thought, steeling his resolve. ‘It can’t end like this. It can’t.
What could he do? He could go to the cabinet and try to grab something useful out of there, but the noise of moving and rummaging about might betray him. He could try and grab one of the wall-mounted pikes, but how would he even reach one? He could...
‘Come on…there has to be…’
But there was nothing.
Unable to think of something – anything, the boy could only stand still, waiting, waiting, waiting as the footsteps came closer, before at last, they came to a halt in front of the door.
'Oh no...'
In the next second, he would meet his end.
‘I…’
In the face of destruction, Matou Shinji couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything at all.
And yet…maybe that saved him.
Maybe the silence of his paralysis was what kept him from being detected.
He didn’t know for sure, only that after some indeterminate length of time, the footsteps began again, continuing past the room.
‘I’m…saved?’
No. There was no way that was true.
This…this could only be a short reprieve from certain doom. To avert it…
‘Information. I need information.’
With that thought in mind, the boy made his way to the door, biting his lips to keep from groaning in pain as he moved. When he reached it, he put his ear against the heavy wooden panel, to try and hear if the person outside had truly gone away, or if they were coming back.
To his surprise, there was a voice – no, two voices.
One is low and coarse, but the other…the other was aristocratic and refined, with tones sharp as a knife.
"Two, is it?" the elegant voice commented. "That will suffice, though it is a pity that neither of them are Obscurials."
"...I'm…I’m sorry, Master," the other voice seemed to choke out, almost as if terrified. There was a long, pregnant pause, and Shinji could almost imagine this other sweating under the pressure of a fierce glare. "Will…will they suffice for the ritual, even so?"
"...yes," the answer came eventually. "Go gather the others, Wormtail. I will proceed to the basement...to make preparations."
"Your…your will be done, my lord," came the nervous reply.
Moments later, there was the sound of a sharp crack, and then footsteps could be heard once more. Only these were…different from before. While the previous sounds had seemed almost agitated, and uncertain, these were measured and even.
A sound full of purpose.
And these were coming in the other direction – back towards his room – no, past his room, without pausing, going farther and farther away until at last they vanished from earshot.
‘So, there’s more than one…’ Shinji thought to himself, as icy-cold dread flowed through his nerves and veins. ‘And…a ritual?’
The boy swallowed.
He’d read about rituals in the Matou library. Rituals involving sacrifices and unwilling victims. Rituals involving the binding the soul. Rituals…
‘No…it might not be that, but it can’t be anything good. I have to get out of here.’
If there was one thing Matou Shinji had ever been certain about in his life, it was that much.
But…
‘…in my underwear, with nothing? I’ll just get killed or captured.’
As he was, everything would be rendered futile if he encountered any sort of resistance.
‘I need something. Something that can make up the gap between this me and those people. Something strong enough to overturn everything.’
Not that he was likely to get something like that, but he imagined that he could at least check the rest of the room. Maybe in the cabinet leaning against the wall, he’d be able to find something useful? Resolving himself, he crept over to the large wooden chest of drawers, and tried the handle of the large swing-style doors on them.
To his surprise, it wasn’t locked, as—
Creaaakk!
‘—what was that?’
The sudden sound, something between a groan and a squeak, almost made him jump out of his skin.
‘No. Calm down. Calm down. It was just the hinge.’
Or so he told himself as he waited to see if anyone had heard, if anyone would come rushing in.
After a few moments of silence, however, the boy let out of sigh of relief and kept on rummaging.
There was little in there he thought might be useful, just uselessly disturbing things like a collection of eyeballs, teeth stained black and red, a shriveled hand, and—
‘Ah. Here we go.’
In the final drawer, three items that seemed different from the rest.
A wickedly serrated jet-black knife with a handle of worn bone. A length of rope the color of night, woven of some oddly shimmering fibre. A mysterious vial of ebon liquid, icy cold to the touch.
‘These are…’
These were things he could use.
‘Well, I have no idea what the potion could be, but the rest…’
A knife could be useful in all sorts of ways, and a rope could be used to bind or to help escape a difficult situation.
It was too bad there wasn’t some clothing, since with only his underwear, he had no place to carry anything or to hide his body from sight, but at least there had been something of use. Maybe he wasn’t doomed.
He wound the rope around his body, feeling it latch on a bit more tightly than he would have expected and picked up the knife so he wouldn’t be completely defenseless – though from the moment he touched it, he felt like something inside him was being pulled into the knife, slowly.
As for the potion...
‘I don’t want to leave behind anything potentially useful, but…’
What would he do with it? What could he do with it when just touching it numbed his fingers and stole his warmth?
'Then again...maybe I'll put it back,' he reasoned. It would be better to have a free hand, after all - one that wasn't numb and nearly inoperable from being frozen, in the case the worst happened. ‘And it still could. I’m under a time limit. If I don’t escape before this ‘Wormtail’ gathers his fellows, I’m done for.’
Even so, he looked at the potion, thinking about what he wanted to do.
He wasn't going to drink some unknown concoction, he didn't want to risk getting the liquid on his skin, when he didn't know if it was a poison - and he certainly wasn't going to stuff it down his drawers. White-hot cold was not a good thing to have next to...rather sensitive organs, after all.
'I guess I could throw it, if I had no other option.'
In the end, though, that wasn’t enough of a reason to take the vial with him, so he put it back where he found it, before opening and closing his fist rhythmically to try to restore circulation to his fingers.
‘I shouldn’t get greedy.’
Taking a deep breath, the boy proceeded to the door, looking over towards the knob to—
‘Huh.’
There was no knob, and no visible keyhole.
'...what...is this...?'
Of course, such was only to be expected, given that in a house that belonged to a practitioner of witchcraft, one could easily lock and unlock a door with only a wand, but Shinji had never been in such a house before.
‘No…no way. Does it...only open from outside?' he thought frantically, his mind going numb. 'Does it need a wand? Am…am I…trapped...?'
No. It couldn't be. It couldn't be the end. Not like this.
'I'll look again.'
And so, he did, but the doorknob remained stubbornly absent.
'...Maybe I should set it on fire?' he wondered, as his sanity began to reach its limit. But the boy shook his head. ‘No. That’s…that’s a stupid idea. Setting the door on fire when I’m still in the room. What am I thinking?’
But then, what could he do? All he had was a bit of rope and a knife.
His eyes flicked down to the obsidian blade for a moment as realization struck him.
‘Right. I have a knife.’
One that was draining his magical power for something, at that.
‘If it’s this…if it’s this, then maybe…’
Recalling something he’d seen in a movie once, he slid the thin blade between the door and the frame, moving it up and down, trying to find the place where the locking mechanism connected to the wall, as—
Click.
‘Yes!’
With the lock released, the door swung inwards just a hair, just enough for Shinji to grab onto the edge and pull it all the way open with a surge of triumph. It was a rather heavy door, but in contrast to the cabinet, it opened silently, revealing a lamp-lit hallway that seemed – for the moment – deserted.
Stepping out into the hall and looking around, the boy could see that whoever owned the house was no doubt well off, given the rich wood paneling everywhere, and the tapestries of odd scenes that included scenes like a wizard trapped in a tree, goblins being consumed by a beast of flame, and a castle that looked vaguely Teutonic being swallowed up by a cloud of darkness.
As to what else was around, at one end of the hall there was a set of stairs heading below, with a window placed above it revealing the shadowy shapes of wych elms, that they were somewhere close to the tree-line of a forest, and that it was pitch-black outside.
‘Am I in the middle of a forest?’
At the very least, he was on an estate surrounded by trees.
At the other end of the hallway was a well-lit room, with the entrance to it carelessly left open.
‘Perhaps this is where that boss-level character just left…’
And flanking the walls, there were several ornate, panel-like doors.
Doors much like the one he had just emerged from.
‘No knobs here either, huh…?’ Shinji thought with a frown, finding it rather frivolous that someone would not even put such a basic thing on a door, though at least the seam between door and wall could be seen easily enough.
The boy was tempted, very tempted, to just head for the stairs and try to make his way out of the manor before something terrible happened, but…
‘No. That would be wrong.’
Only minutes before, he had been trapped in a small, dark room, bound, gagged, and fearing for his life. And while he didn’t know who his partner was supposed to be, only that it wasn’t a Hufflepuff, he at least knew that they hadn’t managed to escape their confinement.
If so, then the person who was his partner must also be scared and alone.
‘…but where would they be?’
Logically, the person was in one of the three rooms lining the corridor aside from the one he'd been imprisoned in, but which one? Did he even have the time to try out all of them? No, what if there was a trap hidden behind one? Or a monster?
'I don't know how much time is left before Wormtail and his associates arrive...' Shinji thought to himself, with the thought making him rather nervous. 'I just know that if I'm not finished by the time they are...'
That would be the end. He would be made to suffer whatever 'ritual' his captors had in mind.
And even if this was a simulation, with how realistic everything had been so far...
The boy shuddered...
'I won't let them catch me,' he resolved, his grip tightening on the knife in his hands. ‘I mean, when magi fight, its to the death, and these illusions – its not like they’re people. No matter how real – I can kill them without becoming a murderer.’
His gaze dropped to the knife as his expression turned grim.
'And if it comes down to it, I'll kill myself. That way they can’t finish their ritual.'
His partner, too, if it became necessary, whoever that person was, for he was certain that they would wish to meet a quick and relatively painless end rather than be used up to power a spell.
'I just hope I'm right about the person being one of the rooms along the hall. If the person is downstairs...'
…suffice it to say that he didn’t want to get any closer to the basement than otherwise necessary, as he was reasonably certain that would lead to a rather painful end.
'Which door, then?'
There are three possibilities, and while he could just try opening all of them, he wasn’t sure if that would be wise. What if there was something in those rooms other than a captive? A magical beast or creature maybe? What if there was a trap meant for people who tried to bypass the lock? What if…?
‘There are too many what-ifs,’ he thought grimly. ‘Well, whatever. Let’s try knocking.’
With just a few steps, he crossed the hall, his knuckles beating out a sharp rhythm on the ornately carved door before him.
"Hey, is anyone there?" he whispered, trying not to be too loud. "I'm here to get you out!"
But there was no answer.
‘Maybe the door is too thick?’
Thinking that, the boy tried putting his ear against the entry point, though all he could make out was something like moaning. No words, no cries, nothing that gave him any clue as if it was a human on the other side.
‘…maybe not that one, then.’
Going to the next door, he repeated what he had just done. This time, what he heard was the faint sound of scratching, something he found a little unnerving.
And from the third, there was no response at all.
'Three doors for three rooms. Two obviously have something inside them, but what?’
Was it his partner, or an enemy?
The boy sighed.
'I might as well try out the silent door. Either my partner will be there, passed out from the fumes of the gag, or it will be empty. At least it should be safe, right?'
Telling himself that, the boy made his way over to the indicated entrance and wedged the ebon blade he carried into the crack between door and frame, sliding it to where the lock mechanism should have latched, as—
‘Aha!’
— he heard a faint click.
Putting strength into his limbs, Matou Shinji pushed the door open, with the heavy panel swinging inward to reveal…
‘No.’
Before him were worms - innumerable worms. A great rotten living mass of worms, writhing and squirming and slithering about.
'No. How? This is....'
Yes, the sight before him was indeed impossible, and yet...and yet it was before him even so. Worms, hissing. Worms, burrowing. Worms, screeching. Worms...taking the shape of a man. Worms forming misshapen feet, skin, ankles. Worms burrowing into worms, with a sound that he found familiar yet terrifying.
Not a mere handful of worms. Not a mere dozen. Not hundreds. Not thousands.
Tens of thousands. Hundreds of thousands.
So many that if a human was to be swarmed by the black carpet, they would not last even a minute, with all their bones and meat taken by the worms, skin melted away, leaving nothing behind.
Yet…the thing forming in front of him did not crumble.
No.
The more worms entered the mass, the more complete it became.
He understood in a flash – whatever was before him wasn’t being consumed by the worms; the worms swarming the room were the ones being eaten as the thing made a harsh, grating sound somewhere between a wail and a cough.
The very sound he associated with the flesh and shape of Matou Zouken - the monster that Shinji called...
“…grandfather.”
'No. It can't. It can't...'
Somehow, the boy found himself on his knees, frozen in place with terror in the face of the casual disdain the abomination projected.
"Useless," the other spat. "Disgrace to the name of Makiri. Achieving even less than your worthless father. Less than the woman from whose womb you sprang. Useless."
'No...'
"Be devoured."
At the old man’s words, the worms surged forward.
Desperation lent Matou Shinji a measure of strength, and forcing power into legs screaming in protest, he managed to spring up and backwards, just before the worms reached him. Yet, that was the limit – and for what? All he’d done was buy himself a second – maybe two.
His back was against the wall, and the worms were following.
He couldn’t retreat anymore, unless he ducked back into the room from whence he’d come. He could only…
‘...I can only what?’
Briefly, ever so briefly, he entertained the thought of rushing over and opening another door, in the hope that maybe he would find his partner and they could help him fight…whatever this was, but that was…impossible. Getting to the stairs, or to the room in the distance – he wouldn’t be able to outrun them with his body as it was.
This was the end, he thought, as the carpet of worms swarmed over him – the same fate as had befallen his mother, the same fate that would one day befall his father, the same fate as would befall anything useless.
And in the face of death, the boy laughed.
It was a cruel joke, really.
Thinking he had a chance, thinking that he would ever be enough for anyone, thinking that because he would wave about a wand and had read the Matou library, he was anything more than the pathetic being he had been before.
It was a joke – and he – he was the punchline.
And so he laughed. He laughed, and he laughed, and he laughed some more, a sound hysterical tinged with despair, frustration, and all the deep-seated rage of his many years as his skin hissed and the world around him screamed.
Everything fell apart.
The worms. The house. Reality itself, crumbling into motes of dust, with a sob, a cry, and cold, cold laughter.
When Matou Shinji opened his eyes, he found himself on his back, looking up at an unfamiliar ceiling.
‘Where…where am I? What…happened?’
He looked around, seeing a large room that looked vaguely medicinal in nature, and…
‘Ah…’
…senpai sitting on a chair next to his bed, glancing up at him from a rather large volume she was balancing on her knees.
“Ah, Matou, you’re awake!” she exclaimed, rising to her feet as she noted that he opened his eyes.
“A…wake?” Shinji repeated slowly, finding it hard to speak. His tried to sit up, but his muscles wouldn’t obey him. “I can’t…”
“Oh, let me fix that,” Miyuki said wryly, as she waved her wand, and he regained control of his body. “Quirrell put you in a full-body bind when you came here. Apparently, after coming out of the scenario, you jumped at him and tried to…” The older girl trailed off, clearly hesitant to say more. “Well, you attacked him.”
“I…what?”
As he sat up, feeling somehow pleased that his body was no longer in pain, he frowned, as he didn’t remember anything like that.
“After your team finished your scenario, you assaulted him. He said it was almost like you had a knife in your hand.”
“...I did?”
“…you don’t remember it?” Miyuki questioned, raising a slim, elegant eyebrow.
Shinji could only shake his head.
“I guess he was right when he called you a berserker.”
“…I wouldn’t know anything about that,” he said as he looked down at his hands. “I don’t…”
He had…attacked a teacher. Why? Had he…had he lost his mind?
The boy swallowed.
“I…”
…was he going to be expelled? Already? Just after a couple days…?
But…
“Professor Quirrell isn’t holding you responsible,” Miyuki told him, her words bringing a great deal of relief to his mind. “Fear does strange things to all of us.” She smiled, a wry smile, but a smile nonetheless. “He also says that you passed.”
“…what?” Shinji blinked. “But I…”
…did he?
“He was impressed by what he saw of your willpower. And how it took several stunning spells to bring you down,” the beautiful senpai explained.
“Eheh…” Shinji laughed uncomfortably, scratching the back of his head. “I…did that?”
Miyuki nodded decisively.
“All the same, he thinks it would be best if you didn’t attend class for the next week, as he wants to make sure you have time to…cool down, as he says.”
“Ah.”
“Don’t worry. I can tutor you, or if you desire, you can study in the library.”
“…thank you, senpai.”
“Of course. Hufflepuffs stick together, Matou. Remember that.”
Choices
In the wake of the incident, Shinji has been asked not to attend DADA for a week, with Miyuki offering to tutor him instead.
What does he wish to do about his studies?
[ ] Tutoring from Miyuki
[ ] Study by himself
[ ] Ask Professor Sprout for an accomodation
And what of his mental well-being?
[ ] Confide in Miyuki
[ ] Seek out Quirrell so he can ask why the man did this
[ ] Talk to whoever his partner was, so he can find out what happened
[ ] Work on his Occlumency
"You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." - A.A. Milne
[x] Study by himself
[x] Work on his Occlumency
It would be a good idea let shinji be alone for the next week. He have a lot to think about was happened and be alone would help him to reflect on what happened
Last edited by skulkidcachi90; December 24th, 2017 at 03:51 PM.
[x] Tutoring from Miyuki
[x] Confide in Miyuki
Even within the spiral of madness, Shinji's mind remains a fortress, huh? Not bad for a padawan.
Unexpectedly managed to satisfy Quirrell in the end. Not certain whether to rejoice or not....
[x] Tutoring from Miyuki
[x] Work on his Occlumency
Being taught by Senpai is one thing, discussing about being devoured alive by his grandfather is a whole other matter. Not close enough for that yet.
Occlumency should help him monitor himself. It was indeed a painful experience but he can learn from this. Disciplining the mind in order to avoid such an episode (attacking Quirrell) to happen again. At some point, getting a pensieve of his own (in spite of how rare they are supposed to be), certainly would make reviewing memories to learn from them, as well as overcoming the traumatic ones, easier.
Out of curiosity, how would you all say you did in the scenario? Aside from the whole going berserk and waking up to an unfamiliar ceiling.
Last edited by alfheimwanderer; December 24th, 2017 at 06:31 PM.
"You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." - A.A. Milne
Pretty sure we got a failure as a team but Shinji got a pass because mental resilience.
I'm not sure I'd call it mental resilience when Shinji did in fact suffer something like a psychotic break, when all is said and done. He passed because when he lost his sanity (temporarily), his magic went out of control and collapsed the world of the scenario. In that sense, he technically managed to escape, if not in the way Quirrell had expected.Originally Posted by Daiki
Of course, after his escape, a fully berserk Shinji, wreathed in an aura of pure darkness, then leaped at Quirrell and tried to rip him to pieces, but that is a scene witnessed only by Quirrell - and by Shinji's former partner. And I'm sure both of them will understand the situation...
Last edited by alfheimwanderer; December 25th, 2017 at 05:53 AM.
"You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." - A.A. Milne
And by his partner... Looks like even in another universe shinji can't escape his bad rep.
[x] Tutoring from Miyuki
[x] Confide in Miyuki
While I understand that Shinji is not a person that likes talking about the subject of his family to others at all, I can see this being a push for Shinji to start coming to terms with his issues. This year is a new chapter in his life and is still young enough to change. Last run Shinji was super secretive on everything but that does not have to be the case. I say we should see what happens when confides in others and embrace the Hufflepuff nature.
That being said, I not against more mind training here but I think that Shinji would not balance himself doing it. All he would be doing is locking his frustrations and fears inside a dark corner of his mind. And someday they will break out and cause issues again. Better to work at confronting what his fear was so that Shinji can overcome it.And I doubt that Shinji will suddenly spill his entire background to a person that he meet a week ago, just give the basics. He was from a very old pureblood family and was not born with the family's magical gift and was assumed to be a squib.
What does he wish to do about his studies? [x] Tutoring from Miyuki
And what of his mental well-being? [x] Confide in Miyuki / [x] Work on his Occlumency
Two questions then.
What should emphasize when confiding in Miyuki? (choose up to two)
[ ] The stress and danger of the scenario
[ ] His complicated family situation
[ ] His confusion and uncertainty, as he still doesn't know the details of what happened
[ ] The sense of worthlessness he wrestles with daily
[ ] (write-in)
And just where should he work on his Occlumency?
[ ] Library
[ ] In the dorm
[ ] In the Kitchens
[ ] In an unused classroom on the third floor
"You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." - A.A. Milne
[x] His confusion and uncertainty, as he still doesn't know the details of what happened
[x] In the Kitchens
[X] His complicated family situation
[X] The sense of worthlessness he wrestles with daily
His two big issues. Maybe this is more than Miyuki is able to handle but if we want this Route to be the Family Route, I think its best if Shinji overcomes or at least confronts the underlining family issues now so that he can more able to build bridges with his family. After all he is too close to the issue to see clearly without some help.
I care not about the danger he faced or knowing what happen fully. The event and what happen takes a back seat in importance to the root cause of his breakdown.
[X] In an unused classroom on the third floor
Kitchen is tempting (suspect a Sion interrupt if not a Natsumi one) but I think that building your mind barriers is work done best in full isolation. Which can only really be done in a unused room.
[x] Mention that a blank in his memory seriously worries him.
[x] Ask Miyuki if she knows anything about Obscurials, a term that was mentioned during the scenario.
[x] Library.
The third floor is considered forbidden area during the first year. After attacking a teacher, we don't want (a more careful) Dumbledore to see Shinji in a bad light. Also, serving as monster snack (again) after opening the wrong room (again) doesn't seem like a good idea.
Last edited by Daiki; December 29th, 2017 at 04:05 PM.
Change my vote to:
[x] Mention that a blank in his memory seriously worries him.
[x] Ask Miyuki if she knows anything about Obscurials, a term that was mentioned during the scenario.
[x] Library.
Dumbledore canon line is "...the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
So my assumption is that the entire third floor is not off limits just that small part. I think we can find an unused room that not going to get Shinji into trouble on the third floor.
I still don't imagine wandering the floor alone is such a great idea when the headmaster is going to raise eyebrows to anyone acting suspicious.
Actually wouldn't mind if he had a good reason to go there, like if he was told by a professor (or prefect) that using one such vacant room is fine for lone study.
Most would recommend using the library or the common room of one's House, not just claiming a classroom for personal use.
The potions book has comments that if you truly wish to be alone, a classroom is better, since no one goes to the unused ones.
Last edited by alfheimwanderer; December 26th, 2017 at 09:47 PM.
"You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." - A.A. Milne
Ok I change my vote to:
[X] In an unused classroom on the third floor
I want go full focus in this one.
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