Clifford started to feel he missed something. Perhaps the Ministry had its secrets, so he wasn’t told all the details. Who was that woman the should-be-dead man referred to? Although Clifford wasn’t the only one confused. Questions were asked, and if answered, they could shed some light on this whole situation. Dead men, strange lakes, and the overall eerie atmosphere could become less frightening if some good explanation was provided.

---

  

Meer piloted her way back through the suddenly-thicker fog, nearly walking into Mr. Skeeter when she reached the group. The corpse had her startled, but not as startled as the lake had, and so she went for a casual, "Afternoon," in his direction. (She'd seen dead people before!)

"Lake's turned to blood," she muttered, hoping that a few of their number could hear her but also that the corpse couldn't.

---

  

Miriam Trelawney Frederick Townsend Kentigern MacFusty Mason Skeeter Clifford Goyle Thaddeus Davies Maeve Connolly

The corpse eyes them in turn, responds to their questions easily. "Equivalent exchange," he says, "So to speak."

"She's the one causing all this," he added, a measured tone, "And she's the one who killed me." He says it easily; whenever he was killed, it was long ago enough that it no longer bothers him.

"So I can tell you where to find her," he says, "For the trade."

---

The next 'prompt' post will be after either 48 hours have passed from the time of posting (6:00 PM EST on July 13th) or after every member of the party has posted one time if this occurs before that deadline. Please remember that you must post within 72 hours to continue participating. :)

  

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Are your characters stuck in the smalltalk loop?
Does your imagination feel like it just can't perform as it used to?
Mid-thread crisis getting you down?
Unable to get that post up?
Is your relationship suffering because of your inability to satisfy your partner?
SUFFER NO MORE!
With a little intervention from The Suggestionizer your RP life could be back on track in no time!

--> Click here for more details <--

Known side-effects include: chronic ridiculousness, immense satisfaction, itching, uncontrollable laughter, burning, deep regret, despair, shock, horror, incidental dismemberment, joy, and death. Use at your own risk!

Cataloging the information they were given in the back of his mind, Mason was relieved when he noticed Thaddeus starting to take notes. Smart move.

Mason nearly jumped out of his skin when Trewlawney resurfaced behind him. He barely caught her information about the lake of blood, trying not to let the shock show on his face while she oh-so-casually greeted the corpse.

"What is it exactly that you want to trade?" So far their exchange had only been information, so Mason wondered just what else it could want or even what they could provide. He also wanted to know where Sterling had gotten off to.

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The only thing they had to trade was people—and while people were obnoxious, Maeve could not in good conscience agree to such a thing if asked. Subconciously, she moved back towards the head of the group, though the "dead" man made her want to run in the opposite direction.

---

  

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— #PrettiesByMJ —

Frederick hadn't noticed anything amiss when they'd returned to the group, as they still had the same head count as when he'd departed it. He didn't even take much notice of the other man until he spoke, when it struck him that he didn't recognize him--and that one of the familiar faces from the train was missing.

"He looks different," Freddie said, rather stupidly--the one missing was Sterling, who he knew well enough from how often his face had been splashed on the front page over the past few years. No amount of transfiguration or plague symptoms or other fog mischievousness could have shrunken the formidable form of the auror into that decrepit looking stranger. He didn't even sound the same, and...

"Did he say killed?" Frederick asked, incredulously, before noticing the hole in the man's chest and realizing this was yet another stupid thing to say. "Oh."

  

Thaddeus frowned at his paper, adding in apparently magical under the Lady category. What on earth did the Creature mean by equivalent exchange? Could he possibly mean to ask one of them to take his place as not only a corpse, but the lady's undead lackey?

Starting a new line on the list, he added Lake Greer turning to blood! for posterity's sake before returning his attention fully to the corpse, pencil poised above the paper to note the nuances of the Equivalent Exchange as they came to light.

  

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Avatar courtesy of Bree! <3

The one that was causing all this. One person was behind the fog? That's what it sounded like the corpse was implying. For now all Tiger could do was see if the man would answer Skeeters question.

  

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Clifford’s medical expertise didn’t fail him. Those wounds had to be fatal, and the man admitted his death himself. But he also claimed to be brought back by some mysterious lady. It seemed unlikely, though, as the only wizard capable of such things was Jesus.

It was all wrong. Could it be an illusion? A dream? Clifford pinched himself in hope it all would went away. It didn’t. But some magical illusions could probably withstand simple dream tricks.

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Meer didn't believe that this could be the work of one person. She also didn't believe in making deals with corpses. With one hand, she pressed her palm against her knapsack; unfortunately, there was nothing in it that could be easily weaponized. Besides - this was a dead person. Mr. Goyle looked more alarmed by that than she was, which at least made her feel better.

---

  

Miriam Trelawney Frederick Townsend Kentigern MacFusty Mason Skeeter Clifford Goyle Thaddeus Davies Maeve Connolly

"I'll tell you where she is," the corpse says, "As long as you kill me."

---

The next 'prompt' post will be after either 48 hours have passed from the time of posting (11:20 PM EST on July 14th) or after every member of the party has posted one time if this occurs before that deadline. Please remember that you must post within 72 hours to continue participating. :)

  

---

Are your characters stuck in the smalltalk loop?
Does your imagination feel like it just can't perform as it used to?
Mid-thread crisis getting you down?
Unable to get that post up?
Is your relationship suffering because of your inability to satisfy your partner?
SUFFER NO MORE!
With a little intervention from The Suggestionizer your RP life could be back on track in no time!

--> Click here for more details <--

Known side-effects include: chronic ridiculousness, immense satisfaction, itching, uncontrollable laughter, burning, deep regret, despair, shock, horror, incidental dismemberment, joy, and death. Use at your own risk!

Freddie had missed the whole conversation about who she was — or, at least, he assumed he had missed something, because what was going on made absolutely no sense to him. Assuming that this was a trade they wanted to make (for whatever reason), he had no qualms about the morality of killing someone who had asked to die — but he did have some serious doubts about his ability to actually do so. Particularly without magic. Maybe one of the aurors were trained in Muggle combat, just in case they were ever separated from their wand and in a sticky situation, but they'd gone and lost one of them, which just left Tiny Irish Princess over there.

"Do we have the... er, means?" he asked a little awkwardly. "To do what he wants?"

  

Furrowing his brows, Mason wondered just how they were going to accomplish that. Was it some kind of test? How were they to kill someone again that was clearly already magically brought back? Even the thought of killing somebody already dead was uncomfortable for Mason. Also, how was he supposed to give them answers if he were, well, DEAD.

As for the means of disposing, he had the knife in his hand, and Mr. MacFusty had that rather large sword, but Mason didn't really know how to use a knife in combat. He didn't doubt that Mr. MacFusty was actually capable of wielding a sword of that size however. Mason eyed the weapon and its owner carefully, would he do it though? "Will you give us the information prior if we agree to follow through?"

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Thaddeus frowned even more; the prickle at the nape of his neck and the growing sense of unease made him feel like the Creature's request was a trap. He cast a brief look to Mr MacFusty's Muggle sword and had to wonder if it would be that straightforward, to (re)kill a corpse. Or maybe like everything else in this expedition, things would not be as they appeared -- perhaps it would require more effort to kill the Creature.

  

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Avatar courtesy of Bree! <3

Meer frowned at the corpse's request, and at the questions that followed. She didn't trust this. Really she didn't. But she indicated Mr. MacFusty with a tilt of her head, "He's got a big old sword."

What was the point of one if not to stab and slash?

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Maeve was squeamish about this entire situation, but was quite content to...dispose of what plainly did not belong at all.

"How do we do that, pray tell?" the redhead inquired, still sounding much bolder than she felt.

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— #PrettiesByMJ —