Welcome to Gaia! ::

MOOD: Stoic.

you don't want to be around when it all goes down...

With a genuinely acknowledged nod to Matthew Warren, Tay’s vast, widespread threads of attention travelled, spinning webs around students and emotions and memories. "William Dante Nott the Third.... I'll find you." His paranoia had long since swept in and began to crawl under his skin, but he distracted himself, stowing the velvet pouch of treasured trinkets in his pockets, occasionally brandishing the petite coin purse to offer several individual first years their share of delight. He had never truly taken a seat for his duration at the Slytherin table, and even now, he hovered behind the backs of others and relished in the shadows of disguise. ”…Of course,” Tay decided, you can trust me, but the thought was suppressed and he bade a silent nod to Ronyo Storm. Reminding himself of all that he had planned, and all that he was striving for.

The prefects were nowhere to be found, and a sixth year had strutted forth, Shin Sever—he knew the boy long before his days at Hogwarts, but they were both very different now. He ushered the first years, and all others to join him down to the common room, but Tay had lingered behind. He stood the furthest from the staff table, but even so, his eyes had caught those of Professor Sillia Rosier. Statuesque of rock and iron, he was thrust back with brimming memories pooling all around. Russia, his visit there had flooded it’s thoughts and all of the secrets that had come with it; his intents, her purposes. The hand was dealt and cards were played, but this time, this time, Tay knew whose hands were stacking the deck.

The ornate mansion he had found himself in the middle of frozen Russia had long since decayed, shattered to a remnant, a shell of its former glory now slaughtered to waste. But even Tay knew there was still magic and might hidden beneath the floorboards and within the cracks of every wall; Professor Rosier must have known it too. There was history still concealed within its walls, a similar, familiar glow of light and acknowledgement that both student and mentor had penetrated with an understanding. There were debts to be repaid, secrets to be kept, empires to be built and broken, and most importantly, a war that had to be kept shrouded—for now.

William Dante Nott the Third had nodded his head just then, after a long moment’s deliberation of seemingly staring into space, but his eyes had long since held the firm grasp of the transfigurations professor until he had spun on his heel to depart down to the dungeons, only more than eager, to disperse from the distorted crowd to find his king, and his new body. But before he left, he curled close to one girl in particular with an enchanted serpentine bracelet, placing a simple yet heavy hand on her forearm to grasp her attention--his silent steps never would have caught her if his shadow hadn't. He ushered a low, hushed whisper, his breath dripping down her neck and weaving through her hair to tickle down along her ear, "-I know we've just met, but, we have much to discuss." A smile tainted his lips, and it could be heard in his scarcly whispered words, and that haunting breath that trickled her neck would last long after he had swirled and disappeared without a sound.