He has no idea that he's been gone for nearly two weeks, since the days just sort of melded together. Torture does that to you, especially the psychological kind. Not that he doesn't have his fair share of physical hurts, of course, since he tried repeatedly to fight his way out, but it was the mental stuff that was really... well, mental.
He hasn't eaten or drunk much of anything in a long time and right now, his vision is grainy at best. There are trees, lots of trees, and he knows that mostly because he keeps bumping into them and scraping his outstretched hands against them. Much as he hates the idea of using that ruddy journal he can feel in his pocket, he doesn't really see much of a choice.]
[Ouch... no, those words aren't coming out right at all, and his throat's gone all hoarse. Best make this quick.]
Harry, 'm in the woods. Come find me, yeah? Or anybody, really. Dunno how long... I can....
[To hell with this, that book's too bloody heavy right about now, and so's his whole body. Anyone who does stumble across him is going to find that he's still conscious and able to speak (after a fashion), but he's collapsed on the ground and looking like a right mess, all bloodied up and such, especially around the eyes. Come help a wizard out... or laugh at him. Whatever works.]
[Much as he hates text, there's no way in hell that his voice is strong enough or his face blank enough for him to say what he has to say. What a day for giant spiders and shit like that to pop out of nowhere.]
Hermione's gone. Again.
[If you want him, he'll be right where he usually is when Hermione goes missing, which is the library. This time, though, he knows that she's gone for good, at least for the time being. He's sitting atop of a desk, a cut on his brow from an earlier scuffle with some creature or other that he only absent-mindedly fought and looking decidedly empty as he stares at the door. There will be a lot of kicked-puppy expressions on his face as the day goes on and the door opens without revealing Hermione, but hope springs eternal... or at least for a couple of hours.]
[It isn't that he's just noticed that a certain someone is missing, but he was sort of hoping that she'd turn up of her own accord before long. It's been far too long for her to have just fallen asleep in the library or some such nonsense, though, and all of her stuff is still in her rom, so... something's up, and it's clear by the sound of his voice that Ron isn't happy about it.]
Anybody seen Hermione? [And, as though there's more than one Hermione in Luceti:] Hermione Granger? She hasn't been home in a while.
[And because he fails at making things private:]
Hermione, if you hear this, come on back or let us know what's going on, yeah?
[When Ron wakes up this morning, he vaguely remembers that he'd had his journal in his bed next to him. Reaching out for it with his eyes still closed, he wonders why he can't find it and moves to roll over.
Unlike most times when he falls out of bed and jolts awake with an obscenity, this time it's a whine that leaves his lips. Shaking his head, he looks around, eyes wide as the world becomes visible in a disproportionate, skewed sort of way.]
Bloody hell, they've shrunk me! What the hell are they on that makes them think this kind of thing is funny?
[He turns to walk out of the room and find Harry or Neville... but he catches sight of something out of the corner of his eye. It's brown and furry and he turns again, trying to get a good look at it. He turns in circles for a while before, annoyed, he sits down, wondering what the hell that is stuck to his butt.
... but then he looks down and sees paws. And judging by the fact that he seems to be sitting on something uncomfortable, he surmises that he has a tail. And... and....
And now he notices his journal lying open on the floor, and he scrambles for it, getting tripped up by his legs now that he's actually thinking about how he's supposed to walk with four legs. He tries to turn the pages with his forepaws, but uh... yeah, no, that's not gonna work.]
Um... is anyone else... different today? Please please please tell me I'm not the only one! Please.
[And bloody hell, why is he so excitable?! Stupid terriers.]
[Later, he can be found carefully walking through the woods, headed for the lake. Because he's thirsty, and there's no way he's going to suffer the indignity of drinking out of a water bowl. He's got his pride, after all.
Feel free to stop him either at the lake or on the way there; he likely won't talk to play off like he's a normal dog, though it you irritate or surprise him... well, I make no promises.]
[OOC- I'll hit tags when I'm back from work later tonight!]
- Current Mood: frustrated
When they leave, do they remember anything? I know I didn't, but... she's smarter than me. She's got to remember us, right? And she'll figure out a way to get us out, yeah?
Yeah. Of course she will. If anyone could, it'd be her.
[And as though he entirely expects a certain bookworm to be there, he's actually browsing through the library later, looking sort of flustered the longer he wanders, eyeing the various aisles as though he keeps expecting to find someone there.]
- Current Mood: lonely
[So with Hermione being drafted and, y'know, gone, this is not shaping up to be the best of birthdays for our lovable redhead. Which is weird, because we never see him complain, right?]
Happy bloody birthday to me. Took long enough, I guess.
Bloody hell, I've been here nearly a year already....
[Later, he can be found in various places around town, looking to get himself something shiny, or tasty, or play a couple of games (and he will eventually be drinking. Maybe a lot).. Anything to distract him from the fact that, y'know, his girlfriend might at this moment be getting tortured. Feel free to stumble across him just about anywhere.]
[Ron meant to sit outside on the porch of House 26 and work on his drawing or something for a change, since there's precious little else to do
other than fret over what to give a certain curly-haired witch for Christmas, but he notices something weird. Luceti seems exceptionally crowded today, and he doesn't recall hearing about quite so many people arriving all in one go.]
Isn't it a bit... cold for people to be mucking about like that?
- Current Mood: confused
It's bad enough I have to spend Christmas in this weird place where people spend weeks at a time being, I don't know... girls when they should be guys or kids when they should be old or whatever. But if I find the funny twit that pelted me in the back of the head with a snowball and didn't even have the nerve to come out in the open and get it right back in the face, then snowballs are gonna be the least of his worries.
[Needless to say, Ron has a bit of a temper and doesn't take kindly to getting his head pasted with a snowball, especially not when it came at him so fast that he pretty much fell onto his face in the snow. Not that he's going to admit that, of course, but whoever does mention it is obviously the guilty party. He will be sitting by a tree by House 26, near where he got hit, his wand hidden up his coat sleeve and pointing to the snow. He reckons the power cap won't let him really do as much damage as his brothers had taught him to do with a nifty little spell, but anyone who passes by and annoys him runs the risk of being frozen to the bone. It could be a good, old-fashioned snowfight between friends/acquaintances, or it could get ugly. It depends totally on you. So go ahead. See where this leads, and feel free to claim responsibility for the snowball that started all this.]
[Ron is not a happy camper. But then, when is he? Still, he's not likely to be a perky wizard when he's unwillingly dressed in a rather horrific costume, his face so red that it would clash brilliantly with his hair if it were visible over the hood. He's tried getting rid of it, he's tried changing, he's tried everything, but the ruddy thing won't stay gone. So now? He's just sitting on the porch of House 26 with his arms (his two real ones) crossed over his chest, all lineface-y and nearly envious of the people who weren't forced into costumes depicting something they're completely phobic of.]
This bloody holiday's overrated, anyway.
- Current Mood: annoyed
Hermione, are you doing anything later? I've got something for you.
[In the mean time, Ron can be found sitting by a tree in the woods, scribbling something on some parchment and occasionally crossing words out, muttering to himself in frustration. Feel free to stumble across him and wonder over what he's writing.]
- Current Mood:creative
[Someone forgot about his best friend's birthday - or, rather, has been so busy with all the other weirdness in Luceti that he just hasn't kept track of the days.]
Is there anyplace around here where a bloke can get 'drinks and good food?' And maybe something like a cake.
I forgot Harry's birthday sort of sprung up on me unexpectedly. You'd think I'd have remembered, with Neville's birthday having been yesterday, but.... well, I've been distracted.
[If you're anywhere near House 26, you may notice a tall redhead pointing a stick at a broom laying on the ground. He's muttering several phrases that don't sound like any recognizable languages, though at times he's so frustrated that he's doing less muttering and more yelling. At various intervals, he'll lower the stick, hold out his other hand, and cry out:]
Come on, you worthless piece of junk, I said up!
[Whatever it is that he's trying to do, he's clearly failing, and doing so in very plain sight of any curious passerby who may want to inquire after his actions or mock him for talking to a broom.]
- Current Mood: restless
[So Harry's currently not happy and when Harry's not happy, a bit of a dark cloud tends to hang over Ron, even if he's not wholly aware of it. He's currently walking around Luceti, trying to get away from a house with a mopey Harry and a worried Hermione and an empty room where Sirius had been not too long ago.]
This place actually wasn't so bad at first. Guess I know better now.
[He's also not paying attention to where he's going. Because he rarely does. Feel free to bump into him.]
[OOC- Tags will be slow as molasses for a while, jsyk. ]
- Current Mood: moody
For those who don't know me, I guess I should go ahead and introduce myself. The name's Ron Weasley, and I'm from the same place as Harry Potter and Hermione Granger and Neville and Luna and all of them. So... hi?
[Shortly after this, Ron will be sitting out by the front of his house, hoping some fresh air will do him good as he tries to read through all the information Hermione's given him about Luceti. Keyword being "tries," since he's never really been the studious sort and is easily distracted.]
- Current Mood: curious
[A groan can be heard as a new arrival is slowly waking up. After a moment during which one can assume he’s getting his bearings straight, he finally speaks up in a low murmur.]
Why’m I so cold? It shouldn’t be this-…. Bellatrix! Hermione? Hermione, where are you? …Hermione!
[Scrambling to his feet, he apparently kicks the journal besides him.]
Eh? What’s this? Last bloody thing I need is another one of Riddle’s childhood diaries at my heels.
[There’s a pause and the muffled sound of pages being flipped.]
Huh…no writing. Not even a name. And no mention of, ‘Dear Diary, today I went completely mental and decided to kill every Muggle-born I can get my hands on,’ so I suppose that’s good. Unless it’s another Horcrux that’s gonna have a go at making me mental. Because that was loads of fun, being angry and irritated and stupid and alone…. Where’s Gryffindor’s sword now that I need it?
[And have one more, longer pause. ]
Hermione! Harry! Hell, Dobby… where did you lot go?!
- Current Mood: scared
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