with heavy eyelids she studied the ends of her hair, the chipped edges of her nail polish, the frayed ends of the plaid button up she’d stolen from declan’s closet. aurora waited and waited….and waited. after arriving far too early to visit her sister and haggling the nurses to just let her go back, aurie was exhausted. roaming the streets at night and taking cat naps during the day could only hold her over for a little while – which is exactly why her head was finally craddled on her arms. with her hand laced with pippa’s. aurora had found the silence comforting enough to fall asleep though it was soon to be disturbed.

pippa’s voice made her bolt up, eyes barely opened. “i’m awake…i wasn’t…i promise.” she replied unsuccessfully answering her question. a whine left her as she forced herself awake, circles dark under her eyes. “pips, everything is okay, they– are okay. i’m okay. everything is okay.” aurora let her head rest against the bed once again, still holding onto her older sister’s hand. “-are you okay though?”

pippa was not a fragile creature, and she often fought back when people tried to handle her with soft hands. she was a spitfire - vibrant, bright, brash - and capable of burning those that mishandled her warmth. she held a subtle boastfulness that she wasn’t easy to contain, and she shouldn’t be confined to a hospital bed. she shouldn’t have been distracted in battle, but shattered bones and two rounds of the cruciatus curse had struck her down in the end. her pride had collapsed like her lung, but she still made an effort to subdue her welling tears. pippa would allow herself to break in jasper’s arms, but no one else would get to see her fall any further. 

she gave the hand a soft squeeze and made an effort to compose herself. pippa tried to sit up, doing her best to force a grin rather than a grimace, though she paused when aurora whined. she did her best to stretch it into an apologetic smile. upon failure to sit up, pippa deflated back into the pillows. a puff of frustration escaped from her lips, but she gave aurora’s hand another squeeze at the mention of the others. “i’m fine - i’m always fine, rory,” she reassured, trying to remain lighthearted, “you’re not allowed to get any worry lines on my behalf.”

Awakening once more, Pippa decided to check herself methodically, starting at the bottom and working her way up. She focused the best he could, and wiggled her toes. Only one set cooperated. Perplexing, but she soldiered on. She moved the parts just enough to make sure they were in working order, but shifting her upper body hurt. Pippa took in a sharp breath, and hissed and flinched once more in reaction. Conceding, she tried to get used to being awake, and let her eyes flutter open once again. A blurry figure was coming into focus and Pippa did her best to ask it, “are my sisters okay??”

nate watched the proceedings of the battle with the interested eyes of someone who enjoyed the turmoil of others—–someone who liked to witness chaos even if he stood in the shadows while it occurred. watching anna moon and james potter die, however, gave him pause—-not out of any sense of remorse, but more the irritation one feels when someone else breaks their toys. james ought to have died by his hand—-it was always how he’d envisioned things ending, anyway (or maybe he just wanted james alive to torment him until the war was well and truly over, and james’ existence rendered obsolete). either way, his lips twitched downward into a frown—-that is, until he saw a familiar figure pushing past him through the crowd. she would do.

“fuck right off? you’ve already helped me play that game, pips, and if i recall you quite enjoyed it.” reminding her of their time together was an easy way to rile her up—-to remind her of a time in her life where her coping mechanisms certainly made her do things she wasn’t proud of. “shame, isn’t it?” he mocked, chin jutting out in the direction of the bodies. “i always thought i’d be the one to kill him. and snapping the neck—–well, there goes any hope for an open casket. then again, the potter luck always did seem to skip out on poor jamie, didn’t it?” wand at the ready, he feigned a careless look around the crowd, “and where’s jas, pips? let the mutt off his leash for the night? or maybe someone did us all a favor and put him down?” barely giving her any time for a response, he cast a cruciatus curse her way—–pippa may be a pretty face, but nate knew she was more than that, and didn’t want to give her a chance to get the upper hand.

pippa lived for the thrill -- and, admittedly, the danger. a mercurial, temperamental need for it lurked within, and who was pippa to ignore it? she thrived on excitement but preferred it contained as part of her own self destruction or inflicted by her own hands. she could be lethal if she wanted to be, but pippa always danced upon the thin line between chaos and calamity. the blonde poured herself into her fencing and dueling. the thrill of the competition and the challenge of the take down was absolutely exhilarating, and it translated into her dueling prowess. it never dawned on her that she could falter when she needed it most.

“once upon a time, yes,” she admitted, “however, you still have your hand, right??” she flashed him a brilliant smile. it tensed when he mentioned james, and dissipated when he mentioned one of the few shreds of stability she managed to cling to. pippa grit her teeth and took a shot, “sectumsempra!” before collapsing. the ground was hard beneath her body, and cold beneath her cheek. bloodied hems of ballgowns blurred past, and pippa couldn’t tell if she was dying or dreaming. fire danced down her spine and ice slithered through her veins, though tunneling vision caught a glimpse of annette -- bloodied and battered -- sliding down a wall. with every ounce of her being, pippa tried army crawling towards her. she had to get to annie.

a masquerade ball was something out of a disney movie – something unattainable for her until now. she’d dreamed about the dresses, the dances, and finding her own prince in shining armor since she was a little girl. yet, she hesitated – attending meant mingling with evil people behind pretty masks not to mention everything else that would be going on. aurelie had made it as far as the walkway when she turned away – ready to apparate back. “this things are super gross right? i mean – the people are just here because it’ll ‘look good’. lame. let’s just leave..it won’t be fun anyways.”

sequins glittered in the atmospheric light, and a myriad of statuesque figures lingered in the faux enchanted forest. be it forms chiseled from cold, hard marble or people raised and taught to mimic it, the stage was set for something lavish. pippa was certainly dressed for the part, yet watchful eyes had been on the look out while she mingled. when a familiar, perplexed face appeared by the entrance, the older sister excused herself to greet the younger. pippa intercepted two champagne flutes as she stepped over, and one was soon placed into aurelie’s hand. “if cinderella can last until midnight, so can you.”

no one would be able to tell by looking at him, but jasper sial had once been an affectionate boy—before he’d been bitten, before he’d left his parents (people who wanted to love him but couldn’t help fearing him) and before he’d learned through a mixture of necessity and bad luck that being alone was lonely but it was also practical and safe for someone with his condition—and for everyone around him. but being a werewolf—or rather, being a werewolf who had tried to keep his status from being public knowledge—required a certain amount of ISOLATION on his part, so Jasper had gotten used to a lack of affection—physical or otherwise. he’d accepted that, although there were days, especially after the full moon, when a comforting hand or someone to lean on would be nice, it probably wasn’t in the cards for him.

and then pippa bardon swept into his life like a beautiful, brilliant hurricane and suddenly what he’d thought was impossible didn’t seem quite so out of reach. there were times when it was still surreal to him, that pippa was still around—not because he was unaware of the strength she kept hidden beneath coy smiles and fluttering lashes, but because pippa was pippa and if she wanted she could have someone who could give her so much more (and put her through so much less) than he did. still, he wouldn’t let his occasional doubts ruin what they had—he’d welcome pippa into his life for as long as she wanted to stay. leaning into her touch, he nodded, “it was all right; a little sore but…” but that was to be expected int he days before a full moon. his eyes lit up, lips quirking upward—wings were his favorite, “yeah?” his arms came to rest across her shoulders, pulling her close as they walked towards the kitchen, “sounds perfect… d'you have any plans for… the next few days?”

there was something thrilling and terrifying that lurked within pippa, and she hinted at it with glimmering taunts to unwrap this enigma of a girl. she had a well-crafted exterior, and a script of half truths and a dash of charisma often lulled others into thinking they knew more about the girl than truly perceived. pippa bardon had inherited a fierce temper and a wicked beauty, and she did her to best to wrangle them into dormancy and kept them tethered on a choke chain. a series of events had been the catalyst for her to drive them deeper -- so very unlike her loved ones’ feelings that bubbled right below the surface. 

she had grown to fit what she laid out for herself, and peeling back the facade to let someone slip under was proving to be painful, but worth it. god, was it worth it to let this beautiful boy hold her paranoid heart within his inky fingers, and for her to hold his. vulnerability was not one of her strong suits. it scared her, yet the mutual knowledge that the other person could rip everything apart was an odd sense of reassurance. although the dim glow of a mutual self destruction button gleamed in the distance, her heart had come to rest in a safe space in his hands, and she placed hers over his when it came to rest on her shoulder in the literal sense. pippa gave it a soft squeeze before untangling herself to tend to the chicken. “i can give you a massage, yeah?” she offered and set the timer. “i think some bardon bonding is in order, and that will keep me busy for sure!”

jasper shuffled into the room, the noise from pippa and her guest’s swordplay having woken him up from a nap—not an unusual occurrence considering the time of the month. “pippa, hey…” he tried and failed to stifle a yawn, one that turned into a grimace as he stretched his arms upwards, straining his already-sore muscles—just another added perk of the upcoming full moon. he knew he probably looked a mess, frustration clear on his face, though it wasn’t with pippa or her friend; still, he couldn’t muster up the energy, it seemed, to be anything but grumpy. closing his eyes, he leaned against the doorframe, head resting on the wall as he flexed his hand, trying to relieve a bit of the stiffness.

“thrusting is a lesson for another day,” He heard pippa say, and ducked his head to hide his smile at the innuendo; pippa’s quick wit was one of the few things that could break through the sense of impending doom that came the days before a full moon. as her friend left, he moved further into the room, a small and lazy smile on his face—very small, but still there. “sorry if I cut your plans short,” he said, looping an arm around her waist and pulling her close, his head finding a new resting place on her shoulder, “m’hungry—are you?”

Pearls around her neck and her hand around yours, stroking or choking, Pippa Bardon was capable of much more than what she let on. She consisted of wild eyes, soft lips, and a look that dared you to get closer.  It was the look of a siren; enchanting and distracting, ready to lure in the victim and into a deep grave when reality hit them a second too late. Pippa was pink, but she had the potential to be TERRIFYING if she worked up enough effort to unearth her lethality that slept beneath bright smiles and the highest of heels standing upon its grave. In truth, her untapped potential laid dormant in the cage beneath her chest, and Pippa fully intended to keep it that way. It bubbled up occasionally, peeking through the most in her fencing, and only mentioned if the current (often darker) company required it in rarer scenarios.

Pippa’s face lit up when a familiar, groggy one came into view. “Thrusting is a lesson for another day,” she decided with a firm nod and a wink. She put away her blade and soon sidled up next to Jasper, making note of the small smile flickering across his face. “Hello, handsome,” she said as she matched it with one of her own. His smiles still made half of her heart flutter and the other half want to flee in terror, but she was going to stay, stay, stay. “You didn’t,” Pippa reassured as she laced their fingers together, dipping her head to touch foreheads, “how was your nap?” She lingered in that position before nudging the small of his back toward the kitchen. “I’ve got some chicken wings waiting to be cooked with your name on them!”