Post by Hadyn Bryant on Jul 31, 2009 12:52:17 GMT -5
now i've told you this once before
you can't control me
if you try to take me down
YOU'RE GOING TO BREAK
twenty-two pure
a delicate and confused alliance
SELF MADE
lawyer & business man
I, Jaiden Dragos Scabior, confirm that the above information is true. I claim that I am a heterosexual male. I confirm that I am a practicing Atheism and that the current wand on display, thirteen and a half inches, hawthorne wood, threstal hair core is mine, and if asked, I can present evidence of my human status. I currently do not own any felines, canines, rats, owls or illegal animals such as dragons, basiliks, unicorns, or thestrals and my patronus is best defined as a a grim.
PERSONALITY
"Hey, kid." The Ministry offical's hand reached out and hooked a child around his elbow -- tall, looked to be a young fifteen, and scared shitless at the sight of him. Harvey sighed, and he flashed a photo in front of the Hogwart's student's face. "You know this guy?"
Almost by reflex, the kid startled. Harvey was almost amused by the fact that if he didn't have a firm grip on the -- the detective inconspicuously checked the color of the kid's tie -- Hufflepuff's arm, he would have bolted. As if the picture was not a photograph, but the real live person it depicted. "Yeah," the Huffie squeaked, "Yeah, that's that one guy who--"
"Yeah, we know," Harvey grunted. Why did they always start off with, oh yeah mister detective guy that's the freak who murdered my best friend! As if he didn't already know that. Hogwarts' education was definitely going down the drain, if you asked him. "What can you tell us about him? Personal life. Friends, grades, sports teams. We'll take anything."
"Oh.." His face pinched in, and his eyebrows furrowed, as if he had just been asked a trick question. "He was weird, I guess?"
"How so?" Harvey prodded.
"Well... He didn't go home on the holidays. Just kinda walked around. I stayed too, since my mom's gotta work at St. Mungo's, and sometimes you'd see him sitting by himself in the strangest places. He liked the Owelry a lot. And uh.."
Harvey sighed. "Thanks. Don't get into dark magic, and stay in school." With a frustrated sigh, he left the confused boy standing in the middle of the hall, and purposely continued down the busy hall. Classes were switching -- damn, he had good timing.
"Hey, you--you know this guy?"
"Sure I do. The guy that killed--"
"Yeah, yeah. What you know about him? Where'd he sleep at night, who were his friends?"
"He was a Slytherin"-- figures, Harvey thought grimly to himself--"and didn't have any real friends, besides that Hadyn chick."
Harvey raised his eyebrows. Antisocial. Here we go. "Last name?"
"Uuh, Brookes. Brian. Bryant! Yes, it was Bryant. Ravenclaw girl. Short, blonde hair. Hard to miss her these days, she's -- sorry, got to go. Class." And this one whisked off and around a corridor, long legs carrying him away.
Secretary, was Harvey's lingering thought, before he turned back around, and some large black boy almost ran into him. There was a mumbled apology complete with some teeange slang these days, and he tried to step around the detective, but Harvey held a hand up. "Wait a second there, kiddo. Can you tell me where to find a Miss Hadyn Bryant?"
The Gryffindor's eyes narrowed slightly. "Who's asking?"
Bingo. Close friend, probably some over-protective ex or something like that. "What's your name, son?" Harvey's voice automatically became paternal, but didn't lose his brisk or impatient touch to it.
"Audio Jordan."
"See that, Audi? I told you the spiders would work. She started screaming like a banshee getting her legs waxed."
Harvey blinked as a clone of the first appeared at the first's side. Twins. An added twist.
"I'm looking for Hadyn Bryant. You seen her around, kid?"
It was astounding how much they looked alike. The second's eyes closed up a little in suspicon just as the first's had, and in the same voice, he said the exact same words: "Who's asking?"
"Harvey. Ministry Detective. I need to talk to her about--" Harvey flashed the mug shot again--"this guy."
Audi, the first twin, frowned and the second guy's lip nose scrunched up a little in disgust, but their eyes connected for a second. It was one of those times when they were speaking to each other without moving their lips; almost reminded him of himself and his partner, Dave, who was off elsewhere in the castle interrogating stuttering students in their classrooms. The twins reached an unspoken agreement between them in less than a second, and both their expressions changed in to gleeful grins in the exact same moment. The nameless twin answered first.
"'Oh, THAT kid? He is the very essence of saintlihood! We worship by his doorstep and hope that one day we can be as good and moral as he is!"
Audi added to the ridiculous campaign. "He wouldn't hurt a fly. In fact, we asked him once and he wouldn't even squish the annoying bugger."
Harvey had been known in his office for being a relatively good guy. No wife, and no kids, but he was a hardworking man that liked to get the job done nice and clean. Every once in a while, there was that one person that came along and pushed his buttons. Well, in this case, there were two, and they looked exactly alike.
"Now, boys. As I can see that you two are bent on being children, I'd like to see Miss Bryant. Show me where she is, and I'll consider being a bit more gentle in the questioning."
This, it seemed, caught their attention. The smiles turned a little more to the fake and forced side. Audi began with a faux cheer, "Seeing as we've known her since we were in diapers. It isn't really conducive -'
"--To our family like values to come after a good, respected detective after he scared her. Yeah?" And the second ended.
Harvey laughed. "Alright. Stay in school. Don't get into too many fights." Harvey turned to leave, and paused. Short girl, blonde hair, rounding the corner into a classroom.
Gotcha.
[ten minutes later]
She was tougher than the twins had lead him to believe. Harvey wasn't that scary a man, and Dave was the specialist in fear tactics, but on average a highschool student lasted about thirty seconds when they were alone, in a isolated room, and under pressure.
The little girl in front of him was tired looking, with circles underneath her troubled wide blue eyes. Her long blonde hair was brushed, but lank and lifeless looking. Her small hands were folded in her lap, and clinging to each other, like she was trying to hold hands with herself. Probably to keep them from shaking, Harvey thought.
She had lasted a good fifteen minutes, without a word.
"Listen, honey. You can leave as soon as you tell me about your friend. Okay?"
No response.
"Miss Bryant, I don't want to make this hard. So we'll start off easy, okay?" He wasn't really expecting an answer. "You were friends with him, right?"
Harvey was very relieved when she nodded her head. He had threatened the twins earlier he would be a little rough in the interrogation, but he found it very hard to be rude and abrupt with the doll-like girl in front of him. She looked like she had enough going on already, and he personally, refused to be the one to send her over the edge. Her voice was faint and unsure, as if she was scared she'd say the wrong thing... Or too much.
"Jaiden was my best friend." Her voice was almost a whisper. She was looking down at her small little feet, instead of up at him. Harvey almost liked it better that way. He didn't have to see her expression.
"What was he like?" Miss Bryant hesitated. "Was he a nice guy? Was he smart? A jock?"
Hadyn wobbled a little, scared to say. "He was nice," She mumbled, "to me."
"And what about to other people?"
Silence.
"A lot of kids are scared of your friend. Why would they be afraid?"
Hadyn glanced up, her mouth tightened slightly. Aha, there was a hint of the real Miss Bryant. It seemed that she had only left a shell of her behind, and here was a touch of the original. "He wasn't mean to all of them. They're overreacting."
"What do you mean, Miss Bryant?"
"He wasn't mean to them." She repeated, her little hands shaking slightly in her lap. "He just.. Didn't care about them."
Harvey nodded. Cold, then. Indifferent to his classmates. Not friendly. "What did he do to be nice to you?"
She shrugged. "He was just... more generous to me. He wouldn't let anything bad happen."
Protective, to his few 'friends'. "I see...What did he do in his free time? Was he on a team?"
"No, he didn't play Quidditch. He thought it was stupid."
Harvey snorted. Well, wasn't that interesting. He and this teen murderer were alike in that one respect. They were both pretty cynical. "I see. So what did he do?"
She smiled slightly. "He likes parties."
Harvey almost felt bad for her. Did she know that he didn't care about her? It was probably only a one way relationship. These kind of guys were like that.. They made you feel special, and then they ruined you. She was probably one of those people. Bastard.
Harvey tried for a friendly smile. "Did he go crazy?"
That defensive look again, her mouth tightening.
Harvey hurriedly corrected himself. "At the parties. Did he go crazy at the parties."
"Oh," She mumbled. "Yeah. He did."
"Did he get into trouble a lot?"
She nodded. He thought he saw a little smile on her lips, but couldn't be sure. "He never did any school work. He didn't like it."
Bad grades. Slacker. "What kid does, right?" He tried again for the friendly smile, and he continued. "I'm sure there were people who didn't like Jaiden. Did he fight any?"
No answer. A definite yes, then. Violent kid. Typical, really.
"Who did he fight?"
"The people who didn't like him."
Ah, she used to be a wise ass then. He kept the smile on his face. He'd get names later, and milk them for information. He wanted to prove that son of a bitch guilty. Who knows how many other people he had rendered to being shells, just like Miss Bryant here. He needed this kid's dirty laundry.
"I'm sure he got into fights often then, right?" She nodded, barely. Still loyal to him, then. He was pretty damn manipulative to have hurt her, and still control her while he was locked up. Funny he had never mentioned her when he was interrogated. All he had really done was play with Bill when he tried to ask him simple questions. Harvey hated to admit it, but Scabior was good. He played with Bill like a toy; he threw him off balance, managed to be arrogant and annoyingly witty at the same time, was extremely sarcastic to where goodhearted Bill felt the urge to punch the sociopath, and he seemed to pull it all out of his ass on the fly. He didn't plan it, it seemed. He just lead Bill in circles, and managed to be unpredictable at the same time. Jaiden Scabior was unnerving. Disturbed, mentally, even before he hit the slammer. It would be interesting to see how long he could last inside Azzie before his mind actually broke and ran rampant.
Harvey leaned in a little. "Miss Bryant, I promise you. We're gonna get him. Don't you worry your little head about a thing, okay?" He patted her. She looked up at him, panic stricken. "Don't worry." He soothed. "We'll lock him up nice and tight."
He left the room, and Hadyn Bryant broke out into tears.
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PLAY BY
HAIR COLOR AND STYLE
SKIN COLOR
WEIGHT, HEIGHT, BUILD
CLOTHING STYLE
VOICE, LANGUAGE, ACCENT
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES
MOTHER
FATHER
SIBLINGS
SIBLINGS
SIBLINGS
SIGNIFICANT OTHERS
SIGNIFICANT OTHERS
NATIONALITY
HOMETOWN
CURRENT RESIDENCE
WEALTH STATUS
HISTORY
Report Card
June 23, 2012
"Goff’s Academy for the Gifted Preliminary School Records"
------
"We find that your son is a very bright child. He's very smart, but with an unwilligness to work. The disrespect shown to any authority is common in an eight year old boy's attitide, and is overlooked; the school, as well as myself, apologizes for their false accusation as to Jaiden's supposed bullying issues. They have been dismissed as false, as you so rightly said Mister Scabior. He struggles still in his reading but, as I said before, he is very bright and I see no reason to hold him back. Good luck on the next level of schooling!
Thank you, also, for the large cash donation to re-build our library. We appreciate it very much. Also... are we still on for tuesday?
--Yours Sincerely,
Miss Violet Shuffold
*
Diary Entry
September 9, 2021
"You're By Yourself, But You're Not Alone"
-------
Dammit.
School.
I hate it for several, perfectly good reasons.
One, I could be over in the States with Mordred and Dawn and Mortimer, doing some crazy shit. Maybe getting another tattoo or something on my arm, that tear drop on my face. I talked to Dawn about it, she said she thought it was a good idea. I asked her if she wanted another one, but she declined politely--the raven on her back was already a big enough giveaway to whom she really was. And then she started lamenting about how she couldn't wear a bathing suit because she would reveal her identity--I said that Mortimer was probably mad about that, too. She punched me, but, hey--at least Scourgier got a laugh out of it.
Two--There is absolutely nothing you can do around here that is any fun without getting expelled. Oh yes, I know, it's Jaiden, he don't give a damn about getting expulsed. Well at least we are on the same page--but Dawn has finished the book. She's started talking about how I was going to end up in life, who I am going to work for and all this random ass crap. And then, she went on to whom I was going to marry--Amy Black is beautiful, but much too clingy for my personal tastes (Well, no, I do like her taste but--oh, you get what I mean)--and I had to draw the line. First of all, I'm not getting married. Where's the fun in that? And I'm not working for anyone but myself. I am my own boss, thank you very much.
Three--Hogwarts, it seems, has finally driven me crazy. Proof of my new found madness?
You're looking at it.
Since when did I write? I don't even like writing. I won't take tests, I don't do homework, but I write in a fucking diary. And since when do I have a diary anyway?
Oh, mother fucker.
If Mordred knew I was writing in this, he's probably laugh his blown up head off.
And Dawn would smile mysteriously--I never have a clue what's going on in that scheming head of hers.
And Mortimer would be confused.
'Why are you writing in a bleeding diary? Who are you and what, may I ask, have you done with Jaiden?"
I rest my case.
I, Jaiden Dragos Scabior, have officially gone insane.
*
A Voice Message--Wizarding Reporter, seemingly recorded from a radio news channel
September 15, 2021
"THE RAVEN DEAD?"
----------
"--last night, in the later hours, auror Norma Black was found. After intensive care, reports say that she claims to have killed the infamous Raven, an elite member of the Concrete. The Concrete, a notorious wizarding gang whose body counts are reaching more dangerous heights than ever. No remains were found, but--"
*
Diary Entry
September 16, 2021
"You wanted in, now you're here. Driven by hate, consumed by fear. Let the bodies hit the floor."
------------
My life has always been shitty.
And I've always accepted that.
Walk all the crazy ass stuff by with a smirk and it was all good. Occasionally, a few people would get hurt. Sometimes, someone didn't talk to me again. Frequently, I got glares in all directions
But never--
--never--
--has someone been killed.
Not by my hands, anyway. I've seen people die, seen them drop with holes shot through them, seen a flash of green light and then see them fall like a marionette whose strings have been cut. People I knew, liked, tolerated, and sometimes even considered a friend.
But that little bit of pain is minuscule in comparison to the pain I feel now.
Mordred owled me this morning. Dawn, The Raven, is seriously injured; she's had 'her guts blown out', as Mordred told me, for lack of more scientific, precise terms.
Understandably, I got angry.
Not-so-understandably, Kamilla Lestrange, of all people, barged right on in after I had thrown my school book, punched the wall, and probably broke my knuckles. I don't know if I did or not. But it hurts like hell writing this.
And if that wasn't embarrassing, then I don't know what is.
If she spreads this, or tells that vile cousin of hers...
Well.
Her life might turn out to be as shitty as mine.
*
[There are several smaller newspaper clippings; many of which were ministry deaths, as well as civilian deaths, that were blamed on the Concrete; one small mention of Norma Jasper Black released from St. Mungo's, but not allowed back into the field due to injury; and one about Rob Herbon from the Chudley Cannons, ripped out of the Quibbler, which claims that the international Quidditch Player is actually the Concrete’s Mortimer Flint/Scourgier in disguise.]
*
Diary Entry
October 24th, 2021
“Another reason, another cause for me to fight
Another fuse uncovered now, for me to light
My dedication to all that I’ve sworn to protect
I carry out my orders without a regret
A declaration embedded deep under my skin
A permanent reminder
Of how we began
No hesitation
When I am commanded to strike
You need to know
That you’re in for the fight of your life”
-----------------
It feels good, to hit them. Don't ask me why. It just does.
I guess Hadyn would tell me I take out all my frustrations on whoever happens to be on the receiving end of my fist. That I get the anger from way deep down, bring it up, and use it. Now that just sounds corny and cliché - I fight because I like it, though Hadyn keeps on making excuses for my volatile tendencies. She's scared of them. She has every reason to be, being a victim of violence herself, and she doesn't want me to be the one inflicting damage on anyone else. So she convinces herself the reason I fight is for other reasons, other than I simply like it. She can go on doing that, just as long as she doesn't say it to my face - then I will be forced to correct her. And I really don't think that that subject would go over well. Hell, I've already hurt her more than a few times. Not physically, mind you. I rescue her from physical abuse, as I did yet again today.
Or this morning. Early, early this morning. Like, two in the morning.
She has the shittiest luck that I think I have ever seen a person cursed with. She's been haunted by more than a few things, and even Hogwarts doesn't let her get away from it. It follows her like freaking ghosts. And what's worse is that she pretends it's fine, that it doesn't matter that she has some guys beat the hell out of her and say it's okay. That it's all good. I've hold off on beating them lower than the dirt only because she asks me not to fight because of her. She gets that whole pleading look on her face, and she grabs my arm, and once she has me, she messes with my hair and has to get on her tip toes to reach it and brushes my skin with her fingers and is so damn hard to tell her no.
But I did, last night this morning. It was the same group of guys. Royce, Luther, Martin, Edward, and that shithead, bull face, ugly ass, ass wipe Joey, her ex. Most of them are in Slyterin, seventh year, except Joey and Martin. They're Gryffindor. Weird alliance, right? I didn't care too much. I was too busy beating their noses into their skulls.
Two of them had one arm each and the others were all grinning stupidly with their wands out. Joey was in the front, practically on top of her. I was just coming around the corner - couldn't sleep, like usual - when I saw him backhand her. So now she this bruise on the side of her face, in between her ear and cheekbone. Needless to say, Joey was the first to go down.
I got Hadyn behind me first. As long as she was out of the way, it was all good for a free for all. I don't think they had hurt her, besides the backhand. It's an honest miracle they are still alive. Seriously. Doing the cheerful duty of choking them to death has crossed my mind more than once. God, I hate them. I HATE them. And apparently that was quite obvious from where I was standing in front of them.
Joey was out cold, and Martin and Luther dragged him away from me, though I did give him a few good kicks before they did. He'll be looking worse than Hadyn for a while. But Royce was on me, and apparently me and him were making a few louder noises why he tried to strangle me and I bashed his head against the wall. Either way, the Professor McGonagall came running. We could hear her and her stern, no cock and bull (or whatever she says) voice coming down the hallway. I grabbed Hadyn - arm around her waist, another at her arms - and practically dragged her away. Hadyn is really, really, really fast though - she runs like crazy, so soon she had me matched up and getting ahead. I let her take care of where we were running to. I had done my part already.
What she came up with was surprisingly convenient. The Room of Requirement was open, and we got in. What McGonagall ended coming up with was a knocked out, bruise and cut covered Joey - nothing of value.
Hadyn cried some. She was entitled to, naturally. I didn't do much. It's just when she cries...Well, I can do the physical stuff. Get rid of what she is crying over. I do that all the time. But, afterwards I feel so - I feel helpless, useless. She can handle me when I am angry or pissed, but I can't handle her. I hold her, but other than that, nothing much. I don't know what I am supposed to do! No one ever did that to me, like a parent or anything, and no one ever thought to. That, or I never let them. I don't cry. But Hadyn does, even though she tries not to in front of me. She'll be talking and crying at the same time, and when I don't answer her, she just kind of -
- breaks. Hadyn breaks.
*
Detention Slip
October 24th, 2021
“ Another reason, another cause for me to fight
Another fuse uncovered now, for me to light
My dedication to all that I’ve sworn to protect
I carry out my orders without a regret
A declaration embedded deep under my skin
A permanent reminder
Of how we began
No hesitation
When I am commanded to strike
You need to know
That you’re in for the fight of your life”
---------------
Mister Filch, I’m handing over Mister Scabior to you for a month and half’s worth of detention, from seven p.m., until ten thirty p.m every night for a unnecessary brawl after hours.
X Proffessor McGonogall
*
Memory Kept in a Vile
November 17, 2021
“BAM”
------------
Jaiden had only been out for a few minutes. He couldn't sleep, as per usual. The annoying conflicts in his head wouldn't leave him alone - Dawn was dying, Dre was in the school at this very moment, and his professors were on to him like dogs chasing a freaking meat-covered bone. And, try as he might, Jaiden couldn't shake the thoughts that buzzed through his brain like annoying flies - always there, but never staying long enough to really put some serious thought into. It was incredibly irritating, to say the least.
So Jaiden had slid out of the Slytherin Common Room without any trouble at all. It had lost the novelty it had retained in his earlier years. Jaiden had done it so much lately; there really was no fear factor in his being when he did it at all. Whereas the younger kids giggled and stealthily crept down the cleared hallways, Jaiden simply sauntered down the hallways, hands in his pockets.
He was bored, to put it plainly. He didn't want to think about his problems right now. He didn't want to have to come up with solutions for the things he actually cared a mite about - it was troublesome, and time taking, and it ate at his indifferent mask like acid. He couldn't keep his straight face up when he thought about his sister, bleeding to death somewhere in the Caribbean, alone. Jaiden wasn't there, Mordred wasn't there, her almost-boyfriend the Scourge wasn't there...It was just her and her caretaker. Just her and the walls, locked away in her own prison. . .
Jaiden shook his head to clear his thoughts. Don't think about it, just don't. It made things so much more difficult. The youngest Scabior sighed. This wasn't good, not at all. Not at -
"-Alone!"
Jaiden paused in curiosity, back tracking to that one arch to the hallway. He walked backwards a couple paces, and peered around the edge as he leaned back.
Huh. Seemed as if the Lovell kid had fucked one too many taken girls, as he was on his stomach to the floor. But wait - that was Martin and that was Joey, and that was Luther and -
MOTHERFUCKER.
Jaiden roared in anger, spinning on his heel. That was Hadyn, his Hadyn, pinned against the wall, her feet dangling a foot off of the ground. He snarled in fury, sprinting down the hallway. They were on the other end of the long corridor, but it took less than ten seconds for him to reach them. And when he did, Royce was already howling in pain.
He had no idea what hit him. Suddenly, someone was pulling at his hair, pulling his head back, jerking him away from his victim. Hadyn fell in a heap and immediately curled up, putting her hands over her head. But Jaiden wasn't paying attention - his vision was tainted by red, and his mouth was pulled back in a horrible grimace. Jaiden jerked Royce away by his hair and then, without hesitating, Jaiden slammed his fist into the other boy's throat.
Jaiden let go of the boy's hair, but didn't let him recover - Jaiden pummeled the boy with his fists, punching every inch of him he could reach. He had Royce doing a dance - going from jumping away to doubling over to trying to skirt the inevitable. But with each new move, Royce slowed down some.
Jaiden growled, snapping like a rabid animal. Red-hot anger rolled off of him in torrents, his blood boiling in his veins. His mind was set on one track - Royce. Hurt him. Hurt him.
Kill him.
Jaiden wasn't letting up. He didn't give any time for Royce to recuperate. He just went on with his nightmarish anger, never missing a beat. Jaiden grabbed Royce, and through him against the wall. The smaller boy followed soon after, grabbing Royce's wrist and bashing it against the sharp curve in the wall several times in succession. There was a nauseating crack of the bone snapping, but Jaiden grinned. A wolfish, wicked smile that preceded the boy taking a hold on Royce's neck and throwing him to the ground. Jaiden was still smiling in a snarling, sinister, thing-from-a-horror film grin as he bashed the other guy with several kicks.
And then, when Jaiden was satisfied when he heard and felt several snaps underneath of his feet, when he heard Royce's gargled pleas for mercy, when he heard the snap of his leg against Royce's body several times, only then did Jaiden let up on his ruthlessness.
"Put you out of your misery," Jaiden snapped, and without a second thought, stomped on Royce's throat.
And he distinctly felt something in Royce's neck give way . . .
*
Diary Entry
November 17, 2021
“My teen angst bullshit has a body count.”
--------------
I killed Royce.
He's dead.
I'm going to Azkaban.
But I don't care. I got what I wanted out of it:
He'll never lay a fucking finger on Hadyn again.
*
The Daily Prophet
November 18, 2021
“HOGWARTS STUDENT FOUND DEAD”
----------
A shocking discovery was made yesterday at The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Royce King, 17, seventh year Slytherin male, was found brutally murdered in one of the school’s halls. There were signs of a struggle, but no one has been apprehended yet. Officials have not realeased many deatails on the crimescene.
Spectators watched as the school’s Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and esteemed scientist, shook his head grimly at the scene. He has denied comment.
“He was a good guy,” a tearful Martin Hoffler says, “We’ll miss him.”
The funeral services are to be held on the 27th on the Hogwarts grounds, so that King’s many, many friends may attend, as well as his family members. Offical Arthur Magner promises, “We’ll find the person who did this. They can’t run forever.”
*
Diary Entry
November 22, 2021
“Have you ever loved someone so much, you'd give an arm for?
Not the expression, no, literally give an arm for?
When they know they're your heart
And you know you were their armour
And you will destroy
anyone who would try to harm 'her”
------------------------------
I have it all arranged, I think.
I have to introduce the plan to everyone, though. I've gone over it a million times, over and over and over, and I can't find any fall outs. But if there is, if there is one little problem with it all, it all caves. Someone else, besides me, could end up in Azkaban. Namely, Hadyn - and I'm not sure, if she does, that she'll be able to withstand the mental pressure of the prison.
So it is with careful and cautious reluctance that I accept this particular plan of action. It'll be hell when I get out of Azkaban (if I get out of Azkaban), but it keeps Hadyn out of the crossfire. I'm doing this so she won't be traumatized any more than she already is, which is quite a bit. She can't go around any guy - other than me or Luca Lovell - without keeping them in her eyesight. It's subtle, and I don't think anyone else notices. Unless you watch her like I do, or know her well enough to know what is normal for her and what isn't. I do both - and what Hadyn is like now, around guys, is nothing like what she used to be. She was modest before, not like one of them girls that goes around thinking she's the shit, but she was confident, too. She was self-conscious, but she was never...wary? Is that what she is now?
How would you define a woman who can't look her best friend in the eye when she says she's fine? Or when she flinches away when anyone at all makes any sudden movement, even if they are moving away from her? Or when she used to smile all the time, but now barely smiles at all? Or, when she does smile, it looks forced or weak? And her laugh - when you never hear her laugh anymore? Or when her grades go way up because she doesn't want any free time to think about what's been going on? Or when she barely talks to anyone but her closest friends? Or when she looks at her feet and only at her feet, meek, when she walks through the halls when it used to be she walked down halls, waving at people she know or smiling at someone who tagged along with her? Or when you notice her friend's absences? Or when someone like Hadyn Bryant pushes people away, and keeps them at an emotional arms length?
Do you call them wary?
No. Then what do you call them?
If I were any sort of asshole (to Hadyn), then I would say it sounded like a victim. And that's what Hadyn is - she's a victim. She needs to heal, to pull herself together again, but she needs help for that. Me, I would help her. And I am - but I'll be in Azkaban for helping her, and to help her. For, because someone is going to prison for Royce's death. Smart as I am, I can't avoid the whole freaking Ministry. And to help her - if Hadyn was forced on trial, and the whole school knew about her personal problems, where would that leave her? Something tells me she would be worse than what she started off as.
So I've cleared Hadyn of the whole problem. I've gone to the library, for the first fucking time in my entire life, and looked up strong enough disillusioning charms to hide her bruises. I gave these spells to her, she taught herself, and for now, she is bruise-less. Her DNA, as Lovell so kindly pointed out, is still at the crime scene. I can't do anything about that. I don't know how the Ministry would figure out it was hers, as she does not have a criminal record, but I'm sure they have some way. And Lovell's - his is everywhere, what with all the throwing up he did.
Maybe I could say that Royce was the good guy. It kills me to do it, but I don't see any other logical way to do it. It's extreme, and I know Lovell will not like it, but it's the way things gotta be. Royce was the good guy - he was messing with Hadyn, and she was willing she was okay with it. I found out, got jealous, and went for him. Hadyn and Lovell got in the way, and I got both of them out, and finished up Royce. I left, then, and Lovell - he brought her to the Room of Requirement. Would that work? I don't see any hitches, but I'm not completely sure there isn't something that I don't see. I can't be sure.
If they find Hadyn's DNA, then I'll have to tell them about it. They won't have a choice; they'd have to take up the story. Hadyn can't lie. She can't do it - Lovell can. I'll get him to do the talking. He won't like it. I know that, but he'll have to suck it up. This if for Hadyn, to get her in the clear - that's what going to get him, I think. As long as it's for Hadyn, he'd do it.
I will never admit it to his face, but I'm unsure if I trust him with Hadyn now. It's more than most people get - usually, it's a straight up 'no'. That I am uncertain about Lovell is a step further than most people have gotten. And, if I have to trust anyone with Hadyn, it will be him. Unless I can find someone else, who would fight for her, it will be Lovell. I don't like him, he don't like me, and I don't give a flying shit. We both like Hadyn, and that's the only reason we're working together. And if he don't want to work with me, fine. I can get it done on my own. I've taken care of Hadyn for nearly ten years now - I managed then, I can managed now.
And I'm going to go to Azkaban for her. That part don't bother me. But, when I leave, and Lovell ain't there, where does that leave Hadyn? She can't be on her own. She needs someone. If not Luca, then who?
The fact that I've murdered someone does not scare me. The fact that I have lost all opportunity for a normal life does not scare me. The fact that I have little to no escape from Azkaban does not scares me.
But Hadyn, alone?
That scares me shitless.
*
Diary Entry
November 27th, 2021
“What are you gonna do, when they come for you, bad boy?”
-----------
They're here. I'm leaving. But don't get too hopeful --
I'll be back.
X[/font]Jaiden Scabior
[End Diary Book One]
*
Voice Message—Wizarding Reporter, seemingly from a radio channel
November 27th, 2021
“STUDENT ARRESTED FOR KING MURDER”
-------------------
“—this morning, an arrest was made concerning the Royce King murder investigation. Suspect Jaiden Scabior, 17, was lead away from the school by an entorage of aurors. Scabior has a long record of detentions for unnecessary violence, and it is a wonder how he was allowed to remain in school for so long. Speculations are made that Gregoire Scabior, the student’s father, made several large donations to the School’s funding program, and many are starting to believe that this money was made for a bribe to keep his troublemaker son in school. No comment has been made to deny this, but it has not yet been confirmed. The trial is set to be held in the upcoming weeks. Meanwhile, Mister Jaiden Scabior will be held securely Azkaban Wizarding Prison until his date arrives. Also, we have Miss Laney Parks here, who says she knew Jaiden personally—“
*
Diary Entry
Sometime in December
"Soul's Escaping, Through This Hole That Is Gaping."
--------------
I's a lot like a dream.
You've had them before, even if you don't think you have. Everyone has had this sort of dream before. You're going someplace, and you know where it is, but you don't honestly want to. You know you're going, and you know it is by your own choice, and you know it is for a good reason, but you can hardly make yourself.
One foot in front of the other.
I could see it in front of me. It is not at all like the dreams were; what I imagined had been some sort of fortress, intimidating, dark, twisted, insane. It was nothing like that.
But yet, it was worse.
The dream, remember? One foot in front of the other. Walking to an end. You're not sure how this dream will end, and you're not sure when or if it will be painful or if it will be quick. All you knew that the end was coming, and it was coming now, and there was no avoiding it.
There was no avoiding it.
It's that one sentence I keep on repeating in my head. There was no avoiding it. I would be here at some point or another.
It was either to be by something I had done, something my brother had done, something that I had been framed for, something that I was found guilty for association by. I couldn't have gotten around it. The Ministry was a large, working organization. It was corrupt, though, vengeful.
Dre killed their families. Well, they could kill his.
Royce killed my best friend. She's alive, yes, but not as she used to be. She's dead from him.
So, I followed the Ministry's theory, and accepted the inevitable. I killed Royce and now, they were going to kill me.
I've come up with a list. I was never really into the whole Organization thing, but this seems to be where my thoughts keep coming back to. They can kill me, but I'll make it hard.
Dawn always used to say that I was a rebel.
One.
Accept it, embrace it. It was going to happen anyway.
Two.
Disrupt the calm. Make it more realistic.
Three.
There is an outside. It is dark in here, pitch black, but there is an outside.
Four.
Ignore the man in the next cell. He hasn't moved for days, though the guards insist he is just sleeping. They're wrong. You can smell the decay from feet away.
Five.
The dementors are lethal. Stay away from them, but haunt them as much as they haunt you.
Six.
Survive. Escape this place. Trial's are coming. There will be an end. All I have to do is survive, and defy the Ministry's intents. It is possible. I am strong. I can do it.
Seven.
Keep on thanking god, or whatever is up there, that I am a very good liar.
*
Diary Entry
Sometime In December
"The Truth Hurts"
-------------------
The dream again.
Walking, the building, sweeping black shapes.
Running, Azkaban, dementors.
Screaming, though my mouth is not open.
Other's screams. It doesn't bother me. I've heard them before.
Lying. Lie to the world. I am gone. Lie to the Ministry. I don't know where he is. Lie to Kira. I'm fine, I'm okay. Lie to Hadyn's memory. You will be fine, love. Lie to the guards. Yes, I can take care of it.
Lie to sanity.
Yeah, you're still there.
Lie to me.
I'm getting out. Really.
Ignore the truth.
I'll be getting out of here.
*
Diary Entry
Sometime in December
"Tied Together With a Smile"
---------------------
Do I remember what a smile looks like?
Teeth, lips, yes. It is possible. No one does it here, though, no one smiles. I was never a really big smiley person like Denny was, but it was normal to see it. Smiles on girls' faces, grins on guys', and smirks on teachers'. Yes they exist.
It's just no one seems to know how here.
Do I know how?
I don't know. I can't feel myself. I can look down at my hands forever -- to me, they symbolize my change. They are dirty and grimy, nasty with grit from whatever has accumulated on the floor of my cell from years and years of abandon. The nails have grown out, yellowed; they grow tired. My hand is broken; the bone sticks up, in an odd angle. I am strange, a pariah, and broken on the inside. But the bone has not broken the skin; you cannot see the break. All you can see is the skin, stretched and taunt, as the bone forces its way through. Painfully.
It hurts. But that's okay.
It seems to be the only thing I can feel right now.
I can feel my hand; my broken, dirty, pale hand.
But my smile?
I don't remember how to.
*
Diary Entry
Sometime In January, 2022
"Little Black Book"
------------------
I found a book.
A diary.
Not mine, no.
Kamilla Lestrange's.
I remember her -- dark hair, tall, thin shoulders. Yeah, I remember her. What did she look like? Now that I read it, I don't know. I remember the way she looked, but the way she acted. When I first picked it up, I could remember. But that image has warped with every word that my eyes go over. It is twisted. I don't know, now.
It leaves me worried.
I don't remember being this worried.
I knew Kamilla. I knew Hadyn. I knew Kira. I knew lots of people, people I don't recall anymore.
I knew how to smile. Something I can't bring myself to do now.
I am in Azkaban. I am a murderer. I am physically broken, but tough, hardened, my muscles more noticeable than ever from my intense workouts inside my small cell. I cannot smile, I cannot remember my enemies nor my friends. I cannot remember what I wrote yesterday. I cannot remember even when the turn of the day starts. I cannot figure out what is night and what is day. I cannot recall the way the light shined; I haven't seen it in months. I cannot see the opposite wall from my cell in the darkness, although I know that if I stretch, my fingers will touch it. I know that the man in the next cell is dead. I know that I read Lestrange's diary. I know that I'm messed up.
But, somehow, even knowing all of these things, I can't answer the question.
Just what is wrong with me?
*
Obituary
December 22, 2022
"Anida Yaxley Scabior, ToyGirl Rabbit, Dead at 56 "
-----------------
Miss Scabior was found dead in her room in her husband's mansion in the Italian countryside. The death is thought to be from a drug overdose. Miss Scabior was often the chairwoman for lage charities and a large believer in the Protection of Woodland Creatures.
*
Letter
December 25, 2022
"P.S"
-----------
Dear Jaiden,
I've been debating on whether to write you or not. I wondered if you'd even want to hear fromn other people, but then I thought if it were me I'd miss the outside world.
Who am I going to spend time with in detention, eh? And how the hell am I going to look at cars without someone slightly intelligent to talk about them with? Okay, so you're a lot smarter than you let on. Even I, one of the most thick-headed Gryffindors who finds absolutely no intelligence in those filthy little Slytherins, can notice the brains in you (among other things).
How else would you have ended up in Azzie, eh? You would have had to have had some kind of cunning smarts to end up there. Yet you wouldn't be there if you had been smarter about what you did...Hiding the body in a suit of armor at the scene!
Oh, don't be cross with me, Mr Scabior. I'm only being truthful. I do hope they allow you to write back... or even read this, for that matter. I'll write more to you soon, Jaiden, regardless of if you get these letters or not, or if you're allowed to write back. It makes me feel better knowing that I at least get write you, and, if you can read these, that you have some words from Hogwarts coming your way. I don't know how many people would/will write to you, but at least know I did.
Yours truly,
Akira Wood
P.S.
I'm sorry for all the random drawings...
I just can't help myself sometimes!
*
Diary Entry
Sometime In December, 2022
"Repetition"
----------------------
imnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsane imnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsaneimnotinsane. im not insane.
*
Small Note
The Date's January 9th, kid.
"The Soldier Who Never Loses His Composure"
------------------
I'm springing you moron. Do what I say, don't ask questions. Dawn'll get you out; she's alive and well, but we'll keep that from Norma, shall we? Merry Belated Christmas.
X Mordred Deadlocke
Dailey Prophet
January 28, 2022
"DEADLOCKE FOUND!"
-----------------
People all over England, America, and Italy are celebrating! Mordred Deadlocke was recently apprehended, arrested, and imprisoned. Several accounts of homicide, genocide, fraud, and many other charges are to be prosecuted. "We got 'em!" Cried one of the overjoyed aurors. "Julius Lockhart, I always knew that guy was a natural!"
Julius Lockhart, 36, delightedly told us his story. "I was locked in a death match with him! The man's a good one, but he made one fatal mistake: he turned his back on me, for one moment, and I seized that second. I knocked him cold--with a spell of my own invention, of course--and apprehended him. Took him straight back to the Ministry, I did! .. I do believe I'll write a book on this--"
[continued on back a2, a3, a4. see a5 and a6 on MacLeod trial. see last page for scabior release.]
*
Photo
February 2, 2022
"Freedom"
*
Obituary
Febuary 4th, 2022
"Gregoire Scabior, successful business man, dead at 67"
---------------------
Scabior was found dead in his home this last saturday, killed by cursing. He was a well respected man, who was known for his smart head and wily ways.
*
Witch Weekly Clipping
March 7th, 2022
"Release Date"
--------------------
Julius Lockhart's much awaited documentry, Gabbing with Gansters, is set to be released April 3rd. The tale is of the author's long and hard journey to capture and imprison one of the most notorious mobsters of our day, Mordred Deadlocke, who has been likened to the modern day Sirius Black. However, unlike Black, Deadlocke was found! "It's a keeper," Singer Jennie Jabhook gushes, "I couldn't put it down!" Well, we'll see. Gabbing with Gangsters will be sold at nearly all bookstores in existance--including the ones near you!
*
Daily Prophet
April 4th, 2022
"DEADLOCKE: ESCAPED"
------------------
... 'nuff said(;
[/ul][/FONT][/SIZE]
I, Ally, promise and swear that the above application is of my own creation. I claim that I am a female living in the eastern timezone. After finding this site through [can't even remember], I promise to try and be the best member I can be by following all of the rules that have been set for me as an exceptional member of KILLING IN OUR SUNDAY CLOTHES.
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]