Visiting Never Hurt Anyone ((Brianna))

[myrtle]

Myrtle glared at the door, her arms crossed firmly over her transparent chest as tears fell freely from her eyes. No one ever came to visit her, of course not! Who would want to visit pathetic, moaning, Myrtle? Myrtle let out a shriek and a loud wail that shook the room. Myrtle was the type of person-more as to 'ghost'-to change her mind quite frequently. One minute she'll be hoping for dear-er-afterlife that someone would come to visit her every now and then, and the next... she will be wailing and screaming all throughout the bathroom.

Myrtle twirled her dark brown hair (which was now a bit of a gray-ish color, due to turning see-through) idly as she sat atop one of the marble sinks. Suddenly, Myrtle let out an even louder shriek and floated upward, to the ceiling. "This just isn't fair!" she whined. "Do you honestly think that I want to live my afterlife like this? Do you?!" she shrieked to no one in particular. Myrtle had taken on a method of talking to herself when she got angry or lonesome. However, the other half of her never answered back.

Myrtle crossed her arms over her chest again, and pouted. She shrugged her shoulders, slightly, and with one swooping movement she plopped herself into one of the nearby toilets. Maybe she would find something to keep her interest up in another bathroom. After all, no one ever said that she couldn't visit the other bathrooms every now and then. And besides, visiting has never hurt her before. Myrtle re-arrived in a another bathroom, however this one was on the sixth floor. It was another girls' bathroom, as well. Being stuck at Hogwarts to haunt the bathrooms, Myrtle had learned where all of them were and what not, and could travel through the plumbing system quite easily.

Myrtle stayed in the small cubical, wondering if there were any other occupants in rather small restroom. Well... she would soon find out. Myrtle swept through the cubical and called out, "Boo!" with her hands raised before her. Myrtle cackled as she pushed her circle shaped glasses further up, on her nose.

((A bit of an odd way to start... but, I dunno. Myrtle thought that it would be fun... so I just had to agree with her. ))

[aithne]

It was just after History of Magic when Brianna noticed with a sigh that for her next class, Ancient Runes, she hadn’t all her books. She had woken a little later then usual that morning from a bad head-ache and hadn’t yet thought to cast the charm her mother had once taught her to rid her mind of the pain. So, waking later than most of her fellow Ravenclaws, Brianna had only fetched her simple books, some black ink which she hated- in her hurry she hadn’t time to check the label, and her scratchiest, most-blunt quill which had passed its used date long ago. Because of all this her work had been a scruffy, chaotic mess with ink splats over her pages and her notes a little less than need be. She had left the class hurridly, ready to start all over in Runes- but obviously, that didn’t work out, so Brianna had had to tell her teacher about her hurry and headache, then go and fetch the books hastily.

Hastily wasn’t exactly the way Brianna moved as she went to get the books. Her body was half-hunched, her face a pure contort of pain, her once enchanting, bright brown eyes now dull with tiny pupils. The headache was now increasing as she stumbled up the Ravenclaw tower, lifting her feet as if they were tons of lead, coated in her white slumps. She clutched a hand to her head and when she brought it down, beads of sweat shone in the light which streamed through the windows. How had the ache gotten so strong so quickly? Brianna guessed it had been from all the reading she had done from the new books her parents had brought her for Christmas. She vowed in her mind not to read for a few days if possible, and to take some of the Paracetamol she had brought from home with her. She wasn’t sure if the drug was used in the wizarding world- most likely it wasn’t, but often had to use it when she had been casting a lot- it gave her headaches quite a lot and distracted her terribly.

Brianna finally slumped into her dormitory, though sighed a huge gust as she entered. She stared longingly at her bed- it seemed so comfy- with all her home pillows, purple and cream, lying perfectly neatly at the top and looking like the most inviting set of pillows in the world. The four-poster seemed to smile at her, and two long blue arms came out from the side. They were made of silk and wrapped around Brianna like her special blanket at home, the dark blue folds melting over her like melted chocolate. Brianna smiled happily at the bed’s silken arms, letting them drag her onto the bed and close her eyes carefully. It was a surprisingly long time until Brianna noticed that such things weren’t about to happen, and that the arms were clearly her temptation bringing her to her bed, which she was now lying on. ‘Maybe just a few minutes- I could say I found a wounded owl and had to take it- a he, maybe, to Hagrid. Brianna smiled at her small plan, then winced as a loud, shrieking noise cut through her thoughts, ripping them into tiny pieces. That’s certainly what her brain felt like as she stepped to the source of the noise- as if it were being ripped to shreds. Scowling before realising that too hurt her mind; Brianna poked a lazy head round the bathroom door. An almost transparent being was in the toilet, sticking out from her torso. Brianna laughed out loud, poking the creature. Amazed as her finger went straight through, Brianna giggled again.

“You’re all part of my thoughts…..like the bed’s arms!” She felt delirious, and smiled cheerfully at the figure, forgetting her headache.

((nah, it's brilliant. Very Murtle ))