Welcome to Gaia! ::

((Entering from Boo Room))



Royalty floated about this new area curiously. Surely the jesters in this room would be much more entertaining then the obnoxious ones in the boo room. He adjusted his crown and floated lower, smirking all the while.

Entering from Group 3 Room

Calder had fished out his brush from his bag and was fixing his hair, head turned to one side as he let his hair fall and work through some muck-made knots. As he did, he only noticed that Barth stopped. At first, he thought the horror came from the fact there were no chairs. Then he thought it was because there was no bathroom cause Calder really wanted some water and a nice mirror right now. Instead, he noticed the ...things from before.

They were fat, round, and very strange. "What are these things? They've very..." Scary? Spooky? Intimidating? "....Bald."

Entering from Group 3's Room

Freya was laid to rest on the floor, and instantly curled up into a cute little curl, mumbling something in her sleep about cows and giant footlong hot dogs. Then she giggled and put her thumb in her mouth.

If anyone tells her later that she had done this, she will kill them.

"Ah," Barth cleared his throat. "Christof, Check...check the other doors, please. And right, Calder, see that Freya gets a pill, would you?"

Were they swarming? Angry? ...Really they looked like they were sort of aimlessly milling about.

Doors? Doors! He nodded, immediately shuffling about the room while the others tended to their wounded. Doors everywhere, but no matter how many he tried, they all seemed to be locked, save for the one they had come in from. With a grunt, he gave the last door a kick before wobbling back, pausing only to peer out one of the meager windows. Fog... That did not bode well. With a sigh, he made his way back tot he group, waving for Barth's attention before signing "locked."

Herryk had been pacing circles around Freya and Calder. He was so glad that Barth had taken control of the situation. It meant that Herryk could pay more attention to Freya. He was acting like a mother hen (except he felt nothing motherly toward Freya whatsoever) the way he was wringing his hands and tugging on his skirt-kilt. It suddenly dawned on him that he should put something on that was a little more.. proper.

While Calder administered the pill to Freya, Herryk dug through his pack. Retrieving one of his older and more battered loincloths, the Draugr donned it, slipping out of the mangled skirt that Calder had given him. That was a little more comfortable and he felt like he could really breathe.

At the first sign of movement from Freya, Herryk knelt on the floor next to her. "Freya," he whispered softly, "wake up now please."

Calder looked up in time to see Christof come back, having checked the doors, before Barth slumped back down. It seemed they weren't going anywhere. "Well, I guess we just rest a bit." He said, seeing as there wasn't any other option other than going back to the swamp room. Considering his conduct, he decided that wasn't a good idea. They would just have to watch the boos.

As Freya stirred, he looked down, watched her wake up slightly, and then pat him on the cheek. It was such a simple, sweet, gesture that caused his tail to flick a moment. Hmm. He wondered what had made him think she was even mean. Leaning down, he looked almost as if he was going to kiss her awake, before he nuzzled her cheek. "You should wake up." he whispered, but she didn't seem to be up for it.

Frowning, he looked about before he looked at her messy braid. Well, if they were waiting about, he might as well help her out a bit. What better way to feel better than having your hair fixed. Calder adjusted and tugged the ghoul to rest her head upon his lap. Then, reaching into his pack, he brought the comb out, before fixing her bands. It wasn't much to fix, but a few brush strokes did the trick. Then with that done, he reached for the braid and started to undo it, putting the hair tie to the side before starting to brush the tips.

He paused only once to consider if she had prettier hair than he did.

Then he felt that was just silly and went back to brushing.

((Entering from Gryffindor Common Room Boo Room))

“I am not bald,” came the voice, a nasally tone paired with just a bit of a slur.

It was muffled at first, but became suddenly clear as a pale pink face poked through the wall. Normally, it was the nose that might lead ones way, but not this time. No, not by far. It was a chin that poked through, leading the rest of the misshapen face like a limousine leading a presidential caravan.

“You shouldn't cross with them both. That's how you get the Ravenpox, you know,” Scary Potter shook his head. Which was not so much a shaking of the head as it was a slow spinning of his entire bulbous body. For those who had gone to prom, the motion was similar to that of two awkward teenagers dancing in a slow half-circle. The only difference being, of course, that Scary Potter was much much more dashing than any of those tuxedo-sporting breathers.

He bobbed in the air just above Freya and Calder, and looked down at the both of them. His expression shifted quickly from disgust to interest, and within moments displayed only dawning appreciation of his own amazing genius. The expression settled there for the rest of his life, and the boo barely moved his mouth as he spoke: