beautiful chaos., AMANDA/SHIRAL <3

[Leona Santos]

SILENCE.

Eternal. Complete. And Utter. Silence.

Exactly written was exactly what she heard. There was no music, no sound from her mouth as she screamed, no clicking of shoes outside the door - not even the bizarre 'hum' that occasionally accompanied silence was detected. The silence that surrounded the witch's life in that moment was pure; untainted by the buzzing of bugs, or the laughing of mischievous students sneaking around the near forgotten corridor just outside the room. It had been long established with her for some time now, taunting her with its untouchable presence and casting an uncomfortable shadow over her being, one that followed her no matter where she stood in the room and keeping up with her no matter how quickly she tried to pace around the room. It watched over shoulder as the moon watched over the earth, dauntingly so.

And she hated it. Hated the way it clung to her despite her protests, hated the greater power it held over her. Hated it more than one could even imagine.

What was life with no sound to one who had already been blessed with the gift of hearing?

Perhaps something. But hearing was not the only thing the Hufflepuff had lost.

Color. She had lost all traces of color.

The reds, the yellows, the lights, the darks, the pales, the neons, every kind one could imagine had been robbed from her sight, leaving her world to one of black and white. Strictly black and white, for there were not even the solemn grays to cushion the distinction between the opposing colors. Leona was left in a room filled with no sound, no color, no people - and that was enough to drive her mad. But it would have driven anyone mad, wouldn't it? Of course, it probably wouldn't have driven a person to complete madness; not the kind that Leona was falling victim to. She would fall into a violent frenzy, one that had no "goods" or "bads" - just destruction.

The witch would break everything there. Shatter every piece of furniture in sight, do her absolute best to try and break down the walls that confided her there. And she would do it all on purpose. For what purpose? Who knew? Certainly not the witch. Leona had no idea why she acted so violently at times. No idea why she walked the halls and could feel happy and sad, mad and afraid all at that same time. She had no clue as why she could go from merrily skipping down a hallway to collapsed over the floor some ways away, bawling her eyes out and wondering when the heck life had become so depressing. She didn't know. She just didn't know.

But none of it mattered at the moment. Her mind couldn't focus on any of that, not when there was a constant amount of silence pumping into her ears and infecting her mind with madness.

A raise of her wand, an uttered spell, and that was the start of it all.

Crash - and the first chair and desk had been flung into a wall, minor chips flying off its corners as it met the ground again. That wasn't enough to satisfy the rage within her, though. No. She needed more destruction. More chaos. More broken bits and pieces of everything.

Then, just then, she might feel okay again. Maybe.

[Shiral Verdantclaw]

Hibblespot was keeping her company today. It had been an overwhelming past few days. She had met some different people, most of them centered around her love of herbology and Shiral found herself shocked that all in her fifth year she had suddenly gained so many, well, at the very least she could call them acquaintances. It was most likely that it was due to her sudden openness to making friends. She had tried so hard this year to make friends and find a way to establish herself as something more than the girl with manure on her head. She needed quiet though. The greenhouse was often filled with people about this time of day. Despite her recent success in obtaining friends it seemed today that Hibblespot was the best company she could have.

The overwhelming nature of the last few days had driven her to wandering. She hadnt' been much for wandering the past four years but something about her fifth year had the eagle exploring the oft empty hallways of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She had discovered quite a bit on her wanderings. Including odd little bits of moss that had found their way inside the castle walls. Hibblespot seemed to enjoy the change of scenery. She had been told it was odd to think of Hibblespot in such a way. She attributed to him intelligence and wit. Still, if Shiral was a Ravenclaw didn't that mean that her familiar was a Ravenclaw? Nobody could convince her otherwise. Hibblespot was a most brilliant toad and that was part of why he was the perfect companion for today's wandering. She had heard of an abandoned classroom and felt that she would investigate that. Any room that had been abandoned for any period of time was bound to have some sort of flora in it, right? Well, maybe not but she needed a quiet place to contemplate the last few days anyway.

CRASH

The sound was distant but in the direction she was already heading. It earned a surprised jump out of the red head and even Hibblespot seemed to tense. The sound was violent and sharp ringing in Shiral's ears as she heard it. Her feet had stopped moving after the jump but they quickly picked up speed. She wasn't too bad at healing magic and somebody might be hurt! Shiral was never a very coordinated runner but she did her best to run smoothly, without bouncing the spooked Hibblespot right off her head. He manged to hang on as she made her way to the doorway. She quickly ducked out of sight as she realized that nobody was hurt. It was just a girl, with a wand and a broken desk laying, as if dead, against the wall. Shiral held her breath. What was going on here? She didn't want to leave anybody hurt, but she didn't want to become that hurt person either. Her eyes grew large; larger than a cat when confronted with that oh so special mint. The girl with the toad on her head stared, silently, frightened.

[Leona Santos]

Another spell, inaudible to the mad girl's ears, and yet another desk and chair combo was flung into the wall, its impact creating seconds of normalcy for the witch--'normalcy' taking the form of color and sound. Yes, each time the seventh year saw the furniture collide with the wall, bursts of color invaded her eyes, granting her her normal vision again, as well as providing her ears with something to hear. It was pleasant. The cracking of wood, the clang! of metal against stone--it was brilliant. The sounds created sang out to the badger's ears, creating a symphony of music that played a tune specifically constructed to make her feel better. It wasn't so grand that she would stop the destruction though; no, the finale was still long coming. It did, however, entice the girl to do more. To wreck more things, to test her limits on how much she could break something down until it became no greater than a speck of dust.

Raising her wand again, the badger continued flinging desks around, aiming them to collide with each other and pounding their bodies into the walls and ground, enjoying it all as did so. But it soon became apparent that breaking chairs and desks wasn’t enough to ease her anger. Realizing this forced her to stop, bringing along with it the aching pain of a migraine. Her mind grew ever fuzzy as a result, the throbbing in her skull growing more intense by the second. Hot, stinging tears fell down her cheeks as she closed her eyelids shut and brought her hands to grip onto her head. Her nails dug deep into the bed of dark hair, its oil staining her fingers and irritating her more. The witch kept her grip on her head tight despite the irritation, finding that the more she squeezed the less aware of her pain she became. But, as with the chairs and desks, Leona found her peak of relief, aching yet again to find something else that would give her comfort.

Her ankles gave in, sending her knees to meet with the ground, their impact sending a jolt of more pain up her thighs and barely reaching her hips. She brought her hands together over her face, gliding them backward to run them through her hair, tugging at the roots she found, softly at first, then more aggressively as she bent her back forward and began weeping strongly again. A sorrowful groan escaped her dried, cracked lips, reverberating through the room as if she were a wounded beast. The muscles around her throat tightened, clenched powerfully so that not even air could travel down it.

Breathe.

The shouted call, directing her to do what humans needed to do in order to survive. But she couldn’t… The air just wouldn’t flow, would not even reach the back of her nostrils. She was trapped in position, stuck with her head facing the ground and her knees digging into the cold, rigid surface of stone. Her kneecaps felt as if they were beginning to bend inward, the skin over them disintegrating as her body twitched up and down from the power her sobs gave off. The badger opened her mouth to scream, but heard nothing. Was the absence of sound from the lost ability to hear or had nothing actually come out of her mouth?...

Leona didn’t know. Didn’t know what was happening anymore and almost didn’t care. All she wanted was for everything to stop, for it all to just end and return to normal again. The walls of air around her pressed inward, smashing her body into her core until she became as a rock – solid, cold, unmoving…

A tiny, random flicker of rage gave one second of relief from her invisible cage, sparking the idea that anger was her only way out. Her eyes shot open, revealing the embers of madness that burned ever brighter in eyes once more, then ripped her fingers from out of her mangled hair and pushed herself up. Somewhere, at some point, her wand had escaped from her hand, rolling off to one side of the room, far out of the Hufflepuff’s reach. She spat at the wand, feeling betrayed by it and ignoring it hence forth. What did she need a wand for anyway? The witch had a couple good limbs, and could break things just as easily with her hands then with a wand. She lurched at a nearby chair, ripping it from its spot on the ground and racing towards one wall, banging it against it as she came close enough. The vibration of the collision shot through the legs of the chair, up her hands and arms till it weakly shook her shoulders. “Ugh!” She shouted, unable to form any words or any coherent thoughts.

All there was the repeated motion of banging the chair against the wall, as that was the only thing her mind and body allowed her to do.

[Shiral Verdantclaw]

crash

Shiral flinched out of her terror-frozen state for just a moment. Every time those sounds filled the air Shiral knew she should be going, should be running, even finding someone to help the girl...but she didn't. The red head just stood there staring, frightened like a rabbit facing a wolf. The ravenclaw found that her heart ached for the girl. Something was quite obviously upsetting her and the eagle was too much of a coward to face her. What would her newly found friends have said if they saw her here staring like an idiot? Ariel would have already rushed in...Alric would have calmed the girl down...Ever? She probably wouldn't have been there...Fiona at the very least wouldn't be standing there frozen like Shiral was...

Another ringing of metal against the unforgiving stone walls of the classroom...Another flinch.

It was too dangerous to go in there with the dark haired woman going insane. Finally...the sound stopped. The witch peered inside the door again, watching as if this student's pain were a spectator sport. There was something wrong about her watching this episode; but like a broom crashing into the side of the castle, one just couldn't take their eyes away easily. Two pairs of eyes, one hazel, one yellow were the only witnesses to the girl as she ceased her rage. Was it over? Shiral certainly hoped so. Then the tears started to fall from the older girl's eyes. They cascaded down her cheeks and off her lips and chin like a waterfall of frustration. Shiral saw the girl's hands grip her head like something was hurting her. Was someone controlling her? Was something hurting her? Shiral found she wasn't too bad at healing magics but she was still too afraid to even let her presence be known.

The crack of knees against stone floor earned a wince of sympathy from the overwhelmed spectators, even Hibblespot seemed uncomfortable with the situation. So much frustration, anger, sadness, filled this room it seemed as if it might bubble over and form an entity of its own. It seemed as if the woman had ceased her tantrum and perhaps Shiral might help her get some help? A groan issued from inside the room and Shiral hesitated to lean in further...perhaps to at the very least stop feeling like a voyeur, watching this dark haired woman's pain played out like the sort of book that you throw across the room just to keep from feeling sick inside.

...Then a scream filled the room and the halls. It filled the ravenclaw's ears and her heart. Shiral jumped back from the door frame, away from the idea of letting this woman know she ever existed. It was a feral scream, like an animal trapped and fighting to escape its captors. She could not help someone who was just as likely to mistake her for a captor as she was to see her as a friend. The scream struck at Shiral's core, shaking any courage that might have found its way into her heart. Nothing, Shiral would do nothing, could do nothing. This was out of control, this was wrong, very wrong. Everything about this was wrong. Why did she ever come down here? What did she think she could do to help someone? She wasn't a heroine, she was the one who died in the first chapter of the book! She was the one who stupidly ran to rescue the monster and got torn limb from limb! But...this woman, this other student...wasn't a monster. She was a girl, and something was wrong with her...

Shiral crept closer to the door frame. The ravenclaw wouldn't let the girl go through it alone, even if she didn't know that she had someone there with her. The woman was already back on her feet by the time Shiral could see inside again. Her body stretched toward a helpless desk and it wasn't long before the thing was in her grip. The red head felt completely useless as the raging student slammed the object into the wall. Over and over...the slamming continued. The only sound the filled the world was the sound of the desk and the wall, meeting on a battlefield. Only, this battlefield had only one general, only one angry ruler venting out her anger. Over and over...Would she ever get tired? Shiral felt so helpless, so guilty...

Hibblespot croaked softly, his inflated, white neck ruffled the flame red hair it rested upon...It was the most concerned noise she had ever heard come out of the amphibian. It broke her heart to know she disappointed him so much..Until of course she considered the noise. The noise! It had been so soft, perhaps the woman hadn't heard it over her banging...Still the sixteen year old turned and pressed herself against the wall outside of the classroom, praying silently that she hadn't been noticed...Perhaps she should get help...Who would help? Who would she get? Why...was she so useless? What would she do?

[Leona Santos]

Pressure, pressure – all around her she felt pressure. An uncaring, ruthless kind that sought out to crush her very essence, as if to punish her for some unknown reason. What had she done to deserve such pain? What being, what code, what rule had she disgraced to warrant such aches? Better yet…. What had even happened? Nobody got so angry for no reason, so what had triggered such vengeful acts of violence on mere furniture?

Simply put, Leona didn’t know. Her mind was too darkened and hazy to pick up any memories that might have helped answer her questions…

It was then that she realized that anger had left her. She was cold now, empty and left with a calm silence that neither annoyed her nor drove her mad. Time felt as if it had ceased to move forward, leaving her with only the beating of her heart to feel. The witch felt the aches and sores on her hand, took note of how intense they were and how likely it was that she would receive several bruises on them later. Gingerly she opened and closed her hands, wincing slightly as her raw skin stretched and contracted over her muscles, causing her even more discomfort. The badger ignored the pain; it wasn’t anything she hadn’t been required to endure before. Breathing slowly through her mouth, Leona rose her body up, sitting her rear delicately over the backs of her legs. She opened her eyes cautiously, as if she were expecting to lose herself again. The first thing she noticed was that color had returned to her vision. The grays, the steel blues and the browns were of the colors she noticed first. Then the shine of the metallic bars that constructed the frame of the chairs caught her eye, showing the “conscious” Leona just what she had done. Her body jerked back in response to the ghastly sight, striking a terrifying fear in her that a beast had found its way to the room and destroyed the furniture that used to be there. This was only her mind playing its cruel tricks on her though, for she knew deep down who had actually been the destroyer.

For a moment, the badger sat numb, leaving all traces of life behind as the light in her eyes faded into a dull gray. When it seemed that the girl had turned to stone, droplets of transparent water slid down her frozen cheeks, proving that she was indeed still alive. thuh-thump, thuh-thump went her heart as she sat there, alone, slowly trying to process what had happened. She’d lost it, she knew that much for sure. But why, oh why had she lost control?

A pointless question, though the seventh year always asked it. And, as always, her answer came in the silence – a language she could never learn or hope to comprehend.

Why – the eternal question. The question that, by now, after seventeen years of living, Leona was sure there was no answer to. A taunting, vile question that kept her awake at night and haunted her not only when sleep was permitted, but also when her eyes were open. It followed her around since childhood, and insisted on causing her pain for no apparent reason. But it had a sweet side to it, giving it an alluring flavor that Leona found herself indulging in many times.

“Why do you love me?”

”Why is the sky blue?”

“Why do the flowers smell so sweet?”

All questions of “why” that, more often than not, gave the Spanish girl interesting and enjoyable answers – ones that made her continue to joyfully ask the question of “why.”

The witch was at a standstill, stuck between loving and loathing the never ending question. But… perhaps it didn’t matter. She was – or at least appeared to be – calm now, so maybe she should have just been content with that.

…Yes. She would enjoy the peace, if only for a second longer.

[Shiral Verdantclaw]

The violence stopped. Suddenly everything was quiet...did the woman hear her? No...there were no footsteps...Nothing to indicate someone coming toward the door. Was she hurt? Did she knock herself out somehow? Taking a deep, calming breath, Shiral peeked inside. It seemed as if the woman had finally calmed herself. The ravenclaw couldn't tear herself completely out of the equation though. She looked about for a place to hide until the other woman was gone. After which, the witch decided she would go in and start cleaning up the classroom. For some unknown reason, a room in such discord just couldn't be left as such.

The sixteen year old looked across the hall and she spotted an open, empty room. Her feet skittered across the floor; the heels on her shoes clicking like an irritated crow against the hard stone floors. Her hand held Hibblespot down on her head and she prayed that he didn't fall off or get pressed too hard. She also didn't want to be out in the hallway when the particularly strong woman came out. Nor did she want to become the new focus of her ire. As it turned out, Hibblespot was fine, and remained quiet for the eagle as she ran. Realizing the volume at which her shoes had clicked across the floor she quietly slipped behind a door and crouched against the interior wall.

The inside of the room was dusty and smelled slightly of moss and mold. One of which, Shiral was not particularly fond of. The eagle loved a soft patch of moss...The stone was cool against her back, sort of calming actually. Everything in the room was dark though. She couldn't actually see what was inside. There were no windows, meaning without much light, the eagle couldn't even tell if it was large or small. As such, she also could not tell the features of the room; such as what it might have been used for. For all the red-head could tell, there could have been a body in the room. Actually, it didn't smell at all like a corpse. More like stale and musty. This really wasn't the time to consider it, but the eagle may very well have been inside of a closet. She really needed to turn back to the issue at hand.

The witch strained to listen for the sounds of the other student evacuating her present location. Once the footsteps were far enough away, she would take the time to clean up the room. This whole ordeal would be done soon...she hoped. With any luck the worst thing that might come out of it would be unintentional odd looks at the girl when they passed in the hallway, or when she spotted her out in the gardens. All in all, she had been pretty lucky to not be spotted. Shiral still felt bad for having been there in the first place. Now that she realized the room really needed to be cleaned, she was somewhat happy that she did stay.

“Shh Hibblespot...just a few more moments.

[Leona Santos]

Whispering words blew through her ears, enticing her eyes to close shut and forcing her to merely be. She wasn't Leona, she wasn't a witch, she wasn't even Spanish. Wasn't breathing, wasn't shook gently from the beating of her heart, and wasn't there, alone, suffering from the aches over her body and mind. The girl was just there. Just sitting. Not thinking, not being invaded with the many questions that normally trampled through her conscious mind and not feeling anything aside from the cool air that lightly touched her skin. It was as if her body was in midair - shrouded in a thick veil of darkness that neither scared her nor toyed with her existence. It didn't threaten her, didn't tug at her curiosity. It was just as her - merely there, and that was it. But there was a little something else that came to light - something she had heard in order to get to that place of merely being.

The whispering.

Soft, inaudible whisperings floated around her as she sat with closed eyes, encircling her existence like vultures set on their prey. Thoughts tried to form in this peculiar state, but where quickly deconstructed, kept from being allowed any time to cross her mind. It was strange, the badger knew it somewhere, far deep within the abyss that was now at her center, but she could do nothing about it. Couldn't actually feel much of anything, actually, despite having known something to be wrong somewhere inside. This strange position she had found herself in... it wasn't a bad thing. At least, it didn't seem like it was a bad thing. However, it also didn't seem like it was a good thing either. There was just... a whole lot of nothing going on with her. And it... was just. There. Not helping her situation, but irritating it either.

Daggers, sharp as could be, pierced her raw flesh then, sending even sharper pangs of pain to slither up her arms at incredible speeds, forcing her to actually leap backward from the ground. Her knees popped! from having pushed against the cold ground so hard, and the muscles in her thighs strained from the sudden jerking of her body. Her eye lids flung open, revealing the petrified eyes of someone who closely resembled a maniac, this image only being further implied as a horrendous screech ripped through her mouth. Wildly her eyes searched around the room as her head bobbed from side to side, frantically searching for something, though what this something was, the badger didn't know. Her lungs went into overdrive, pushing her chest in and out as her breathes were rapid and short. She continued to hyperventilate until a tremor shook through her body, halting her from all actions. With breathes returned to somewhat normal rate, the badger looked down at her palms, finding quickly the thin trails of blood that led from the ends of them to up where fingers were. Her pretty nails? - stained with blood. Her palms? - Cut deeply in the shape of her rounded nails, though not bleeding as much as she feared she would have been. Somehow, in her odd "time out" from reality, the badger had managed to squeeze her hands, digging her sharpened nails into the already damaged skin that lied over her palms, piercing through it easily, apparently.

The witch stared at her bleeding hands in disbelief, mind still stuck as she was at a loss for what to do. The trembling in her hands distracted her a little, though only in forcing her to taking note of the thick liquid that spilled out. A flash of light caused her to suddenly jerk back, almost feeling as if someone had just pressed "resume" on her life as she was finally allowed to think. The first thought on her mind?

Get out.

It wasn't safe there. Evidence of her rampage was everywhere, and she wasn't particularly keen on being caught red handed. Ironic, of course, being that her hands were already stained with blood, but... well. It didn't matter. It wasn't... the most important thing in Leona's mind.

Hastily she picked herself up, took one more glance around the war zone she had created in the room, and slowly edged her way out. Once in the hall, she ran. Ran far away from the scene of the crime, and as fast as her legs could possible take her. Leona had been dealing with this sort of thing nearly all her life now - she wasn't about to get caught now. Well, to her knowledge, she wouldn’t.

[Shiral Verdantclaw]

Footsteps...running...It sounded as if the whole ordeal was over. Shiral peeked out of her dark hiding place to see the room left in disarray, and abandoned. Abandoned as it was meant to be. Quietly, the red head slunk from the shadows and into the empty room. There were a few splinters from cracked wood, and desks were overturned all around her. The ravenclaw carefully picked her way through the room, picking up desks and setting them in their appropriate places. A couple of mending incantations were spoken in whispers. It was almost as if the room still held the insanity she had just witnessed. Something not to be talked around, not to be cast around...

It wasn't too long before the room seemed to be somewhat back to normal. The marks on the walls were a little difficult to reset, and the eagle wasn't about to try and replace the dust. The most interesting find was a wand...laying where the dark haired student had rejected it. The poor thing looked depressed; covered in dust and shards of broken chairs. The witch picked it up and gingerly placed it into her bag. That simply meant that she would have to find out who the girl was and return it to her...perhaps if she saw the girl in the hall. It wouldn't be easy... Shiral just hoped it wouldn't be violent.

She turned back to the doorway and stepped outside of the room. The hallway was quiet. The world was back to normal. Sort of... Peace was not such a bad thing but some how it all seemed...anti-climatic. After all that she had just witnessed, the red head and simply gone in, cleaned up and was now standing in a silent, peaceful hallway. It was such a strange thought to find peace unusual. The ravenclaw made a vow to watch where she was wandering from now on. She would not be returning to this place...

The witch's shoes clicked away from the violence...