The Fall Ball (Masquerade)
@Lydia Cooper
"Valentine," he whispered back to her as his eyes slid shut for a brief moment. With an ear about his chest, surely she could hear his abnormally swift heartbeat. Perhaps she'd even notice that the surface temperature of his skin was slowly declining. A mild vibration found itself radiating through him. So subtle she might miss it, or question if she really felt it to begin with.
The illusion of solace that descended around them only reminded him of how lost he was in the mysterious new world of wizardry. Only on the familiar ballroom floor did he find some semblance of his past that reached out to him, that rooted him firmly to the reality that he knew to be true. His heart ached with loneliness.
"Existing is exhausting, Lydia. That's all."
His hand about his face slid to her shoulder, smoothing over it onto her bicep as they continued to sway. If she caught a glimpse at his face, he'd hoped she hadn't, but she'd gotten a glimpse of the face beyond the mask. Valentine was so used to hiding his feelings, that when he found himself in moments as vulnerable as this, he sometimes forgot he had to do such a thing. For the sake of himself, and of those he truly cared about.
"Valentine," he whispered back to her as his eyes slid shut for a brief moment. With an ear about his chest, surely she could hear his abnormally swift heartbeat. Perhaps she'd even notice that the surface temperature of his skin was slowly declining. A mild vibration found itself radiating through him. So subtle she might miss it, or question if she really felt it to begin with.
The illusion of solace that descended around them only reminded him of how lost he was in the mysterious new world of wizardry. Only on the familiar ballroom floor did he find some semblance of his past that reached out to him, that rooted him firmly to the reality that he knew to be true. His heart ached with loneliness.
"Existing is exhausting, Lydia. That's all."
His hand about his face slid to her shoulder, smoothing over it onto her bicep as they continued to sway. If she caught a glimpse at his face, he'd hoped she hadn't, but she'd gotten a glimpse of the face beyond the mask. Valentine was so used to hiding his feelings, that when he found himself in moments as vulnerable as this, he sometimes forgot he had to do such a thing. For the sake of himself, and of those he truly cared about.
Last edited by Jackson Valentine on 10 Dec 2020, 20:38, edited 1 time in total.
Discord: Valentine#6117
The Fall Ball (Masquerade)
"I know. What inspires such violence and segregation between individuals, I can't guess. I wish people would learn to get along, and then there wouldn’t be violence, right?”Interacts with: @Thomas Lestrange, @Maria Dee @Piérre Marchonné
Blondes are not known for their intelligence. Marion is also not known for hers. A pretty face in a sea of beauties. In truth, she was nothing special, at least in comparison to her peers. She was, however a Slytherin and like so many other students, the Sorting Hat was not wrong when it chose the house of snakes. Piérre, on the other hand, sounded like he was better suited for a burrow than a den.
”Let’s not think about that now, okay? Just... listen to the music! Do you ever feel like melodies give you wings? Give you the ability to fly? I mean... music is so colorful, and it isn’t bound by any law made by any position of power. Like dancing! Whatever you feel, express it in dance and song. Whenever I feel upset or nervous, I like to hum, and make beautiful music for anyone around me to listen to!”
Thomas LeStrange was here to ruin another evening. His date, a girl she vaguely recognized. She had followed Marion through London, she was exposed to the world's most humdrum 'resistance.'
“Con-condolences?”
The Gryffindor stammered.
“Wh-what’s going on? Are you two friends or something?”
No, they weren't. Marion shook her head but their relationship was rather obvious as the air grew thick and heavy. The girl's demeanor had changed, her [metaphorical] fangs bared. Picking fights already.
“Um, pardon me. Perhaps now is not the right moment to bicker? I can tell there are deep seated tensions here... How about a walk, and then each of us can cool down and come back and speak rationally and civilly!”
"I am not going anywhere with this freak," not monster or even asshole. But 'freak'. Some aberration. Fiend.
”Since I don’t know much of anything going on... I mean... Maybe we could talk one at a time and see each other’s perspective...”
"His perspective?" she repeated with incredible sass. "He threatened to kill me!" She snapped. "Harassed my date." She continued, his trespasses numerous even when they narrowly applied to her. "Got my friend killed," yes she blamed him for whatever part he had in Victor's death. Being present was a dire enough sin as far as she was concerned. "And you think we--" she took a look at Thomas, dressed for a party but not here for one. His poor date somehow playing second fiddle.
It was not quiet, it was a verbal altercation. Thomas had earned her ire and failed to ameliorate the bubbling sense of discontent.
“I still think that walking away is the best option. Let’s take a few minutes and then reconvene here, yeah?”
She had no intention of sharing space or 'reconveining' with LeStrange. She took a step back from the both of them, her face contorted into a sour expression. The Gryffindor was fiddling with his broom. Who wore a broom to a dance?
“No need.”
Thomas would state, the only agreement that they would have on this day.
”D’you like flying, Miss Marion?”
No, not in particular. She liked her feet firmly planted on the ground. Felt safer that way. She looked over at Vladimir, everything was going as he said it would. Her impulse was to help him, but her help would only provide to be a hinderance to the brilliant pureblood's plan. She never really understood what he was thinking or why, but she trusted him. They trusted him.
In the delay, that time where she was too busy fighting her own impulse to enter the fray, the Gryffindor extended his hand.
“We could fly around the castle a bit, let the fresh air clear our senses?”
That heavy leaden weight in her gut sank. She knew how she was supposed to answer. How she needed to answer. She accepted and took his hand. Her hand felt like ice, as if she had been standing outside in a snowstorm. "Sure," she announced loud enough that others could easily hear if they diverted some of their attention their way.
“Fresh air can do us all good, don’t you think?”
“Careful who you spend your time with Marchonne, her friends do not last very long.”
A warning. Another barb from the self-declared peacemaker. She would climb onto the rear of his broom, she did not lose sight of the snake.
“Enjoy your evening.”
Thomas did not receive the same platitude.
There was something wrong. There was no weight. None in his hand as she accepted it to climb onto the broom. There was no warmth, only cold that he would feel on his back. There was a scent, a strange aroma - rose that was nearly over powerful but there was something stale and old. A scent that the boy was unlikely to know, to was a rather unique scent for those who knew death and war. Iron.
The Fall Ball (Masquerade)
Florian finally made his way back to where he and Rosa had originally sat down. She was still there, thank goodness, and not out dancing with some other guy. Who knows how long he had spent searching for Verena and then messing around with Emile. Seemed like too long. However, she was talking to someone, although he seemed not to possess the usual manners that he and Rosa had been brought up in.
Florian brushed the other student aside and, with a slight bow, he held out his arm to Rosa. "Ah Madmoiselle, would you care for a dance?" She graciously accepted, and he escorted Rosa out into the center of the ballroom for a dance. Of course, he gave the boy she was chatting with quite the sneer, for he had won the girl this time.
They swirled around in the center of the ballroom, and Florian felt as if all eyes were on them. He was handsome, she was lovely, it was just meant to be. There seemed to be a lot of commotion around them, something to do with some strange doll, but Florian paid no mind to it, and it seemed his date didn't either.
The song ended, and he stopped their dance and looked down at Rosa. This ball had been a bit of a mess. Emile and Verena were nowhere in sight, and he and Rosa had barely talked with everything going on... like punching Emile... the crazy ghost rider... the doll... did Hogwarts really need to be so over the top? Why couldn't it have been just a ball?
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Man, this sure was exhausting. Perhaps it was best to call it a night. "I suggest we take a leave, miss. I'm afraid there isn't much more for us here." He held his arm out to her again, which she again took, and they both exited the dance, back to the Beauxbaton quarters. He was going to get a very good night's sleep tonight, that was for sure.
Action: Florian and Rosa leave the Masquerade.
Goddmodding of Rosa dancing and leaving the ball approved.
Stats: Stamina: 5 - Evasion: 7 - Strength: 4 - Wisdom: 9 - Arcane: 4 - Accuracy: 6
Abilities: Foulplay
"And the more hurt she gets, the more venomous she grows." - Emily Brontë
Abilities: Healing Sage | Comprehend Language (Parseltongue) | Advanced Casting
Hex: #408000
Abilities: Healing Sage | Comprehend Language (Parseltongue) | Advanced Casting
Hex: #408000
The Fall Ball (Masquerade)
Kyle stood there sort of stunned for a moment. Between the fight, sidling up close with Erin and then the sudden anger and heat between Erin and his cousin Illowy Kyle was suffering a sort of sensory overload. Then Erin stormed off with a look of a woman on a mission in her eyes. Kyle blinked a few times before looking from Erin to Illowy and back. Eventually he would adjust his mask and shake his throbbing hand from the powerful punch he had thrown a few minutes earlier. "Sorry magpie she doesnt...well i mean she might...I just" he offered a shrug and he made a face. "Listen I'm sorry and you can throttle me later but I gotta see where this leads. Yeah?" he lingered for a moment as if he was asking permission before he finally winks one of his steely blue eyes and turns to run off after Erin "Thanks magpie love ya mean it sorry!" and he began to shove his way through the crowd as he attempted to hunt his date back down once more.
He came across her right after her failed attack, seeing the target flee while getting dirty looks from the cruel and alluring Slytherin. The poor lad was smitten.
He tightened the leather hand wrapping around his fists as he moved up beside her, perhaps seemingly coming from nowhere depending how focused on him she was. "Alright so who we targeting next. Another Giant? always fun to knock down a tree. Or we want to break a couple smaller annoyances" he would attempt to catch some eye contact as he gave a trade mark trouble maker smirk
Stats
Stamina: 10|Evasion: 4|Strength: 15|Wisdom: 2|ArcPower: 5|Accuracy: 4
Abilities
Obnoxiously Strong: +10% strength
Interracting with: @Illowy Magnard @Erin Ryan
He came across her right after her failed attack, seeing the target flee while getting dirty looks from the cruel and alluring Slytherin. The poor lad was smitten.
He tightened the leather hand wrapping around his fists as he moved up beside her, perhaps seemingly coming from nowhere depending how focused on him she was. "Alright so who we targeting next. Another Giant? always fun to knock down a tree. Or we want to break a couple smaller annoyances" he would attempt to catch some eye contact as he gave a trade mark trouble maker smirk
Stats
Stamina: 10|Evasion: 4|Strength: 15|Wisdom: 2|ArcPower: 5|Accuracy: 4
Abilities
Obnoxiously Strong: +10% strength
Interracting with: @Illowy Magnard @Erin Ryan
“I live my life free of compromise, and step into the shadows without complaint or regret.“
Stamina: 10 Evasion: 4 Strength: 15 Wisdom: 2 ArcPower: 5 Accuracy: 4
The Fall Ball (Masquerade)
Interfaces with: @Xailah Alptraum, @Selim Faust @Meenauh Silmataurea
There was nothing to fix with a one Selim Faust. There was nothing wrong with being prepared, being ready and being worried. To endeavor to be strong enough that one could endure. To be independent of the powers that be. Vladimir was familiar with the chains, those that fettered him to one greater than he. The bindings that held others to him. The yearning to not be alone, the avarice and fear that comes with seeing them drift away. He had a lot to regret but he was going to keep moving forward.
He needed it, a part of him expected it but their attack was not at the preordained, destined moment. Faust remained at his date's side, there was certainly worse company. He had no assurance that he would protect her but he had no reason to believe that she was imperiled by his presence. His company might serve as a deterrent. He could focus elsewhere.
He would have been satisfied with inaction. He did not expect actions to support the boy's words. His audacity and disregard for himself was... fascinating.
That would learn him. Try to help a pair of damsels and...
Rather than appreciate the unaccepted ally, they decided to make a second enemy. He did not know the metamorphmagus, the girl who made such an effort to stand out was yet another face in a sea of others that tried too hard.
She would make her attack. Xailah attempted to cast Full-Body Bind Curse on Vladimir. He did not see it coming, nor could he fathom the reason why. Despite being an academic institution, every resident was not necessarily intelligent. The spell was reckless and ultimately the oddle attired feline would miss. "Merlin! What is wrong with you!" He crashed into a table, a loud crash to echo his sentiment.
They were the one slinging spells in a very public place. Chasing something. An attempt to aide themwithout using their remedial magical skill and catch or preferably destroy that miscreant.
Another girl, also unfamiliar to the Ravenclaw would sling another attack at the Ravenclaw.
"Depulso!"
No, not at the Ravenclaw. Nothing happened, he looked back past him. They aimed for Selim Faust, this was not an act of paranoia but rather an attack. They had no interest in attacking the others that had come to aide them. Why?
It should come as no surprise that the Slytherin would return the favor. Blow for blow. Selim punched Xailah, he was either a feeble youth or the girl was made of steel. "I guess I will take the other one," Vladimir announced to nobody in particular out of the side of his mouth. His hand curled into a simple fist. Breaking the restrictions of the Ministry to cast underaged magic in a room full of witnesses and to use that magic to assail their fellow students in a display of cruel madness was something that others can remember for them. As far as he was concerned, whatever remained of them would be the product of self defense.
Thanks ladies for that.
That meant Meenauh, the one that attacked Selim would be his target. Let the doll have them if they wanted one of them. They forfeited their option for help when they attacked him.
The embrace (presumed to have occured) between Xailah the brute and the devious doll would lead to a logical presumption. It was her creation - child, twin, friend. Not there to replace her, but rather a homunculus that was made rather than born. "It belongs to her!" Vladimir cried out, a pointed finger pointed towards Xailah.
End her by fire also.
There was nothing to fix with a one Selim Faust. There was nothing wrong with being prepared, being ready and being worried. To endeavor to be strong enough that one could endure. To be independent of the powers that be. Vladimir was familiar with the chains, those that fettered him to one greater than he. The bindings that held others to him. The yearning to not be alone, the avarice and fear that comes with seeing them drift away. He had a lot to regret but he was going to keep moving forward.
He needed it, a part of him expected it but their attack was not at the preordained, destined moment. Faust remained at his date's side, there was certainly worse company. He had no assurance that he would protect her but he had no reason to believe that she was imperiled by his presence. His company might serve as a deterrent. He could focus elsewhere.
He would have been satisfied with inaction. He did not expect actions to support the boy's words. His audacity and disregard for himself was... fascinating.
That would learn him. Try to help a pair of damsels and...
Rather than appreciate the unaccepted ally, they decided to make a second enemy. He did not know the metamorphmagus, the girl who made such an effort to stand out was yet another face in a sea of others that tried too hard.
She would make her attack. Xailah attempted to cast Full-Body Bind Curse on Vladimir. He did not see it coming, nor could he fathom the reason why. Despite being an academic institution, every resident was not necessarily intelligent. The spell was reckless and ultimately the oddle attired feline would miss. "Merlin! What is wrong with you!" He crashed into a table, a loud crash to echo his sentiment.
They were the one slinging spells in a very public place. Chasing something. An attempt to aide themwithout using their remedial magical skill and catch or preferably destroy that miscreant.
Another girl, also unfamiliar to the Ravenclaw would sling another attack at the Ravenclaw.
"Depulso!"
No, not at the Ravenclaw. Nothing happened, he looked back past him. They aimed for Selim Faust, this was not an act of paranoia but rather an attack. They had no interest in attacking the others that had come to aide them. Why?
It should come as no surprise that the Slytherin would return the favor. Blow for blow. Selim punched Xailah, he was either a feeble youth or the girl was made of steel. "I guess I will take the other one," Vladimir announced to nobody in particular out of the side of his mouth. His hand curled into a simple fist. Breaking the restrictions of the Ministry to cast underaged magic in a room full of witnesses and to use that magic to assail their fellow students in a display of cruel madness was something that others can remember for them. As far as he was concerned, whatever remained of them would be the product of self defense.
Thanks ladies for that.
That meant Meenauh, the one that attacked Selim would be his target. Let the doll have them if they wanted one of them. They forfeited their option for help when they attacked him.
When the doll revealed itself he could have changed the course of his actions but why should he? Then he helped them and they could continue their unwarranted attack on his person. It came for Selim, he saw it out of the corner of his eye. Rather than grunt something in Meenauh's direction, he regarded his unexpected ally. "FIRE! Use FIRE!" The doll was made of burlap, filled with straw and something else. They combust easily, once their dark form has been destroyed they would be rendered inert, no longer a threat. "Weak, unbelievably so... The collateral damage worthwhile," He was referring to the spectators, the rubberneckers and the pedestrians. They could heal, they had a capable school nurse who was practiced in healing burns.He would attempt to punch Meenauh.
The embrace (presumed to have occured) between Xailah the brute and the devious doll would lead to a logical presumption. It was her creation - child, twin, friend. Not there to replace her, but rather a homunculus that was made rather than born. "It belongs to her!" Vladimir cried out, a pointed finger pointed towards Xailah.
End her by fire also.
Attempts to deck Meenauh. Feel free to pick which punch.
Stats:[/b]
Human
STA 10 • EVA 15 • STR 10 • WIS 5 • ARC 5 • ACC 10
Abilities: Not telling yet.
Aamon
The Fall Ball (Masquerade)
May smiled at Benjamin. "Im-fine, thank you. A bit scared, you know, but still I'm ok."May said, her voice slightly trembling. She would never get used to balls after what happened in the blossom one. May shook off the thoughts (but not completely) and decided to have a good time. "So, ummm, Ben.
How are you? S'pose youre enjoying yourself, of course. I mean, why wouldn't you? A new country and all...I bet it's a nice experience for you. I've only gone to one country apart form england..you know, the United States. I was born there you see, but I'm part German too." she cleared her throat, feeling a bit thristy.
"I- I should get drinks..." she nodded slightly and walked over to a table that was a bit more far away than where Ben and herself were chatting. She wanted to see if anything suspicious was in action. If so, she would want to stop it immediately. If there wasn't anything suspicious, May would just grab a few drinks and go over to her partner, Ben, again.
She felt guilty of lying to him. Deep inside, May was a very nice child, even if she had slapped or puched someone a few times. Her problem was her temper. She couldn't control it. It was part of her DNA. The Moonstar's did have a big temper.
She went over to a table that was, obviously, fully decorated with a Halloween theme. She looked around to see if anything looked suspicious, any sign of an odd activity. She wanted to do anything so that nothing would happen like in her first year.Interacting slightly with: Benjamin ( @Nell Zoldak)Action: Looking around for anything suspicious.ReducioAbilities: Martial Artist/Charms Prodigal
Statistics: ( Stamina - 8 | Evasion - 6| Strength - 9 | Wisdom - 4| ArcPower - 4 | Accuracy - 9 )
Martial Artist
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The Fall Ball (Masquerade)
Despite attempts to tune out the continued chatter between Marion and her flight enthusiast, a particular utterance left a foul taste, leading Thomas to turn back to Marion. Following a momentary glare at the cagey blonde, Thomas gripped the edge of his mask, removing in a vexed intensity. It was the second time he’s removed his mask this evening, both in the face of a misguided challenger. This time for good, the boy tossed his mask like a frisbee, watching it disappear harmlessly into the crowd.Primary Interactions: @Maria Dee | @Marion Davenport
He, he, he. Marion failed to consider her own actions, what led her to the owlery that day, and the person that betrayed her. Thomas was no different than another face in the crowd, never holding any intention to harm the girl, but indefinitely condemned after a poor choice of words. The boy has accepted this, though Marion’s implication that Thomas had any part in Victor’s death drew his ire. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, do you?”
Thomas added nothing else, just an endless stare at Mary. She couldn’t completely be blamed, he did imply tossing her out of a window, a surefire regret. Though his actions since that day should have given the girl the impression he was not the enemy, she was just too foolish to notice. Thomas was done trying to make amends, to help her case, to...potentially assist in sparing her life. There was nothing left to do. “Good luck, Marion.”
Fortunately these implications didn’t matter to Maria, her attention simply elsewhere, mentioning a figure that’s hiding. Her voice held notes of concern, and Thomas would be foolish to bypass this concern. As mentioned many times, it was just a ticking clock until the downward spiral began. The absence of fire may have upset the vegas lines, though we all know it was coming. “See what?” Thomas asked, following her eyes once more in attempt to locate the target of interest.
Maria went on to mention something trying to hide, her verbiage was curious. Her following decision even more so, as his fighting acquaintance turned ball partner flung her goblet through the air at nothing in particular, at least from Thomas’ view. “It?” The boy quirked a brow, following the girl’s eyes once more in an attempt to see what she did.
Action: Attempt to observe what Maria sees once again
We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be
Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 7 | Wisdom: 8 | ArcPower: 3 | Accuracy: 7
Ability - Evasive Maneuvers 2x
The Fall Ball (Masquerade)
Effects
Marion Davenport has successfully mounted Piérre's broom
The dancing didn't seem to be coming to an end, as quite a few people were dancing the night away. They were free to keep going, the music was not stopping. Neither was the violence! But first, the matter of unmasking the greatest villain of all...
The bag must have made it hard to see, or perhaps he was already defeated at this point. With a beautiful flourish, @Ileen Knight removed the bag in the most perfect way possible. Anyone nearby would be shaken by her incredible bag removing skills. @Hanako Tone, however, would now be unmasked.Ileen removes Hanako's mask
Ileen's aim: 1d20 [20] + 9 = 29 (success)
Hanako's evasion: 1d20 [2] + 3 = 5 (failure)
The admirer missed his first strike, but it would have one more opportunity. Perhaps its last opportunity, to prove its undying devotion.
Initiative
Admirer: 1d100 [75], Meenauh 1d100 [89], Xailah 1d100 [35], Vladimir 1d100 [23]
Meenauh > Admirer > Xailah > Vladimir
As far as the doll's last stand, his chivalrous defense of his fair maiden @Xailah Alptraum had revealed him to the crowd. Had it signed its own death warrant at last? As Xailah approached he would not attack her. @Meenauh Silmataurea, this time, was a bit quicker on the draw.
Meenauh casts Freezing Charm on Admirer [WDC 10]
Meenauh's cast: 1d20 [19] + 15 = 34 (success)
Meenauh's aim: 1d20 [18] +9 = 27 (success)
Admirer's evasion: 1d20 [3] + 10 = 13 (failure)
Xailah grabs the Admirer
Because of Meenauh's successful cast, this is an AUTO-HIT
Vladimir uses leopard blow Meenauh
Vladimir's aim: 1d20 [3] + 10 = 13 (success)
Meenauh's evasion: 1d20 [5] + 7 = 12 (failure)
10% chance to weaken: 1d10 [2] (failure)
Damage: 20*10 = 200
Meenauh's health: 175/400
ReducioLeopard Blow (Long Fist): By tucking the fingertips against the bottom knuckle of each finger, a long fist is formed. They offer decreased strength but increased reach. The striking surface is also narrower, which allows the fist to dig between ribs and other soft target areas.
Effect: Attacks a single target at +0 accuracy for 20 damage * strength modifier. On a full hit there is a 10% chance that the opponent suffers the weakened secondary effect where they do 10% less damage for the next 3 rounds. [Can stack]
At least if its fate was to die, it would be in the arms of his true love. Unable to move any longer, it almost looked like a regular lifeless doll if not for it's eerily damp, unblinking eyes staring at right her.
"Don't let them kill me." It begged her.
Surprisingly, @Selim Faust was not just beset by a sword wielding doll. He had @Erin Ryan to contend with, a gal who just wanted revenge for how life had treated her. How many punches would un-break her heart, would her fists ever be satisfied?
Erin butterfly kicks Selim
Selim's Evasive Maneuvers: 1d10 [5] (failure)
Erin's aim: 1d20 [11] + 7 = 18 (partial success)
Selim's evasion: 1d20 [8] + 10 = 18 (partial success)
Partial success: Butterfly kick is +0 accuracy, but attacks twice with one roll. For a partial success, only one of the kicks will land.
Damage: 10*15 = 150
Selim's health: 350/500
ReducioButterfly Kick: The butterfly kick is done by doing a large circular motion with both feet in succession, making the combatant airborne. There are many variations of this kick. The kick may look like a slanted aerial cartwheel and at the same time, the body spins horizontally in a circle. It begins as a jump with one leg while kicking with the other, then move the kicking leg down and the jumping leg up into a kick, landing with the first kicking leg, all while spinning. This kick involves also the arching the back backwards when airborne to give a horizontal body with high angled legs to the horizontal. First practiced in Chinese martial arts, the butterfly kick, or "xuan zi", is widely viewed as ineffective for actual combat. However, its original purpose was to evade an opponent's floor sweep and flip to the antagonist's exposed side or it may be used as a double aerial kick to an opponent standing off to the side. It is now widely used in demonstrative wushu forms (taolu) as a symbol of difficulty. Also note the similarity in execution when compared to an ice skating maneuver known as a flying camel spin.
Effect: This is an attack that protects the user from having their legs swept. Auto-success attempting to evade a leg sweep attack. In addition this attack strikes a single target twice at 0 accuracy for 10 damage * strength modifier.
The doll was captured. Selim was actually hit by something. Vladimir was advocating fire. How would this cookie of a ball crumble? Were there any more actors who wanted a part in this wicked tragedy?
@May Moonstar couldn't make out anything, not even the increasingly obvious altercation with the doll. @Thomas Lestrange however saw everything.
DC 10
1d20 [2] + 4 = 6 (failure)
DC 10
1d20 [12] + 8 = 20 (success)
Actions this round
@Starlee Kennedy (NPC Florian LeRoy) left the ball.
@Elisabeth Erner (NPC Rosa Swann) left the ball.
[font=Monotype Corsiva]For your consideration[/font]
- There will be a mod post every Friday, meaning the next mod will be on December 18th.
- There are two parties going on simultaneously, the Masquerade in the Ballroom and the Costume Party in the Rehearsal Room. Both are on the fourth floor of Hogwarts, so travelling between the two does not take much time. For ease of moderation, please clearly denote when you are going from one to the other. During moderation, this takes a full action.
- Your characters are no longer able to join the ongoing Hunt. People who have already joined the Hunt can still travel between all three locations, but each movement will still take a full action unless otherwise stated.
- Because changing parties is considered an action, this means you can switch once a week, though that also means you won't be able to take another action until the next mod.
- Actions besides changing parties are any attempt to do something to someone else such as attack, investigate, cast any spell, or generally anything that has a chance to fail depending on your stats. Minor interactions that are agreed upon between two players are free to take as much as you like. If you're unsure whether your intended plan involves an action, you can feel free to message me for clarification. Please do not roll your own actions even if they are minor.
For we dreamed a lot//And we schemed a lot//And we tried to sing of love before the stage fell apart
Sta: 9 ★Eva: 5 ★Str: 7 ★Wis: 15 ★AP: 3 ★Acc: 15
The Fall Ball (Masquerade)
"Make no mistake. The beast inside me is sleeping, not dead."
▁ ▂ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ ||~♟~|| ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▂ ▁
When Vladimir joined the fight, so did Erin Ryan, but her target was Selim.
His instincts screamed as the fist came flying toward him, and he tried to dodge the unexpected attack. Instead, it hit his shoulder. Pain flared through him, but he managed it with ease, dancing away to minimize the force behind it. Instead, it expended into kinetic energy rather than pain.
Hand flying to bruised appendage, he snarled, words of Vlad echoing in his head with the rest of the clamoring voices.
"FIRE, use FIRE!"
Selim's eyes flashed to the doll, eyes narrowed as his hand flitted to his wand with a grimace. He looked at Erin from the corner of his eyes.
"I don't talk to the Fox anymore, Ryan!" He hissed, "He's avoided me since the last half of my first year! So apologies, but I can't give him anything for you." He rolled his shoulder, bringing up his wand. "I doubt he cares about me anymore anyways." The incantation ran through his head as he looked at his finicky wand with a glare.
Jack never came around to him anymore, traumatized, most likely. So, Selim's care for the boy had faded. He trusted him, a sliver of trust, and would protect his contractual partner to a degree, but he did not care about the drama between the Fox and Ryan, let them figure it out themselves.
He didn't need to be dragged into more drama, he had enough on his plate with joining Vladimir's side against the sheep he had to call his peers.
"It belongs to her!"
His eyes sharpened as he heard those words, he looked at Vladimir who landed a strong hit on the other girl. He knew the unspoken request hissing after it.
"End her with fire as well." the Cruel One echoed in his head.
He had no reserves against the action, it was self-defense, and an easy excuse. The more believable one was that he only intended to burn the doll if the girl holding the doll got burned to? Collateral damage, they had magical healing for a reason.
Besides, he'd done worse than burn someone before.
His mind danced around the image of a particular red-headed dormmate-
Well, he'd try to burn them, but the spell working depends on if his wand wanted to listen to him or not.
He directed his next words to the blond girl who punched him, "But by all means, go deliver your punch to him personally, maybe in the face. I don't care, but there's no point in dragging me into it."
'He can handle it, I'd know' he thought to himself.
Finally, with the memory of the wand movements in his mind, he spoke, the stick of cherry wood directed right at the doll in the cat's hands.
"Incendio." The spell came out in a dark growl, something festering inside him feeding it. If it transferred to his wand though was a whole other can of worms.
His wand was always rebellious, he knew the theory and movements needed for spells but had a hard time getting the gathered energy to be used. His wand hated him, he swore it did, but he somehow got it to listen enough to get decent grades in Charms, DADA, those types of classes.
He preferred potions, personally.
He hoped the spell would work, perhaps it would relieve some of the pent-up stress inside him. Not enough of it though...
Never enough.
▁ ▂ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ ||~♟~|| ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▂ ▁
Reducio
Actions: Trying to burn the doll (And Maybe Xai too) with Incendio
Mentions/Interactions: @Vladimir Athanatos @Xailah Alptraum @Meenauh Silmataurea @Jack Burnett @Erin Ryan
Actions: Trying to burn the doll (And Maybe Xai too) with Incendio
Mentions/Interactions: @Vladimir Athanatos @Xailah Alptraum @Meenauh Silmataurea @Jack Burnett @Erin Ryan
Stats & Abilities:Reducio
____ ____ ____
2nd Year
/40
Stamina: 5
Evasion: 10
Strength: 5
Wisdom: 7
ArcPower: 3
Accuracy: 10
____ ____ ____
Ability: Martial Artist, Evasive Maneuvers
"False Face must Hide what the Heart Doth Know." -Macbeth
S.F
The Fall Ball (Masquerade)
Closed to Interactions; Flying with Marion
Mentioning: @Thomas Lestrange, @Marion Davenport & Xailah-Admirer’s SituationPiérre was feeling more and more useless by the second. Was he the one that was causing the difficulty an the strife? He hated to be the middle man in these situations... and the worst part was that perhaps he was the one responsible for instigating most of the issue. This boy had threatened Marion with death? Killed her best friend? Put aside petty rivalries. There was another murder involved?
What the Hell was wrong with kids?!
At this point, Piérre had clammed up, listening to the shouting match. His pleas for peace and rationality had long been thrust aside. The only way to get through this strife was by letting the volcano erupt. Get the pain and the anger out.
It was scary, really, how calm the boy was. It wasn’t that Piérre had anything against him, for indeed, he had just met the kid that night. But, there was a bit of concern when the boy mentioned Piérre by his surname instead of by name. How had he even known of Piérre in the first place? Perhaps because of a trickster’s reputation or the passing gossip about the boy who never decided upon a house to belong to. Perhaps he had just met the kid in the hallway and had never realized it. Either way, Piérre opened his mouth or rebuke, but the boy had already walked away. He had walked away and left Piérre with a warning.
“... her friends do no not last very long.”
Now, Piérre was not a boy to get angry, and certainly he was not one to start cursing out loud as a response to bruised pride... but this wasn’t just a stab at the integrity and social preferences of the Britalian himself, but it was a stab at Marion’s as well. Red began to creep into his cheeks, a righteous wrath beginning to boil. Who was the kid to start making judgements on his personality based on who he was currently trying to cheer up?
”Oh yeah?! Well, go and... um...” Piérre’s fists were clenched and shaking, and finally the right words spring to his mind. Exploding with rage, the last words that Thomas would hear from the tiny Italian second year would be in a language he likely did not know: Piérre native Italian tongue... ”VAI ALL’INFERNO!Literally: ‘Go to Hell’ VAI ALL’INFERNO, BASTARDO! Bastard”
Piérre’s hand touched Marion’s, and despite the chill of it, the feeling of it almost being like a corpse, Piérre could only feel hot anxiety and adrenaline from his telling-off. The lightness of his passenger was strange, as if she were a ghost, even despite her very human feeling. Now he needed the flight just as much as Marion may have.
But then came the regret, and immediately after reflecting upon his words, Piérre felt his heart sink. What kind of jerk was he? His shoulders slumped and he turned his head away from Marion to hide his red-faced shame. His pointed ears lowered and folded back like a scolded puppy. He was embarrassed that he had lost his cool. He had lost his top, and had for the briefest moment been selfishly trying to make himself into a tough guy. Burying his face in his hands for a brief second after Marion had alighted, Piérre allowed a small sniffle to escape him, before he quickly wiped his eyes and took a deep breath.
”I can’t be crying, I’m here to cheer you up!” He tried his best to put a brave face on it, shaky breaths in and out as the almost overpowering scent of roses and iron filled the air. Had Piérre bitten his cheek or tongue while telling Thomas off? Probing quickly, Piérre found no injury. Perhaps, then, it had been a heat of the moment, like when one sees red and thinks of the blood that could be spilled from the confrontation. But the scent of roses were intoxicating, the sweet pungentness almost intensifying the scent of... dare Piérre guess... blood?
Ah yes, he would recognize the smell of iron, though he would not recognize where it emanated from. Innocents, especially those who desire peace, know war. Blood from the Valentine’s Day Event, specifically, but also from being beaten into lockers and bruised up by gangs of bullies who found an easy target in the gentle, peace-loving Britalian. It was a miracle that he had survived thus long without fighting back, and even now, he was fortunate to have the wisdom to refute being inflamed by even the smallest slight.
“Starting to think that I may need the flight desperately as well...” Piérre muttered to himself, his fingers tightening on Luciana’s handle.
It wouldn’t be a rapid ascent, but perhaps just fast enough to require his passenger to either grip the broom tightly or else hold on to the driver, the force of 0 to 25 in a split second as the raw power of the Moontrimmer and the anger of the boy combined into one.
Piérre wouldn’t race about the room as if in Quidditch, and instead, it would be a gentle cruise, especially around the chandeliers and against the borders of the room. While they flew, compassion began to return; Piérre’s urge to let a person share what was on their mind. Air would cool Piérre’s cheeks, albeit slowly, and eventually, Piérre would be back to his typical, chipper self.
”Um... the boy... you said he killed someone.” Piérre bit his bottom lip. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to... but, maybe it would help you feel less guilty. It seems to be something that you worry about a lot.” That had appeared to be the main cause of Marion’s tenseness, at least in Piérre’s mind. “You can tell me anything, if you want, of course. I won’t tell a soul.” Again, the compassion which could be the cause of Piérre’s early demise. ”I just want to make you happy. That’s all I want of anything I do... to make people happy, despite my explosion just then...”
After that statement, his gaze would suddenly be attracted to the commotion which was front and center: that of the Metamorphmagus Xailah and an unknown thing that she had just tackled. What was that? Drifting in a slow circle and descending to a point where he was still quite a ways up in the air, Piérre sainted down at the ground, trying to notice what it was that was causing all of the hullabaloo. After staring for a moment, Piérre would ask to Marion. ”Now what do you think is the cause of another fight here in peaceful Hogwarts?” It was just a quiet muse; no probe, no accusation. Just observation.
Observation of the next course of action, and a course of escape if needed.Piérre Observes the Xailah-Doll Situation (Keen Eye)Mod Note: Piérre has brought his Moontrimmer, Luciana
He chooses to place his +3s to Evasion (+13) and Stamina (6)
He also possesses a 10% Auto-dodge rate
Statistics and Abilities
Averaged with the (unknown) stats of Marion (however that may affect them)
Stamina 6 | Strength 3 | Evasion 13
Wisdom 10 | Accuracy 10 | ArcPower 5
Keen Eye: 25% Chance to Spot something Important
Calming Presence: 10% Auto-hit Rate. Allies: @Piérre Marchonné, Romeo Marchonné, Hanzo Fransson, @Rafael D'Spacito, & @Marion DavenportI'm too lazy to actually do art in an hour's time, and I'm working on the costume still, so have this image reference of Piérre's badass Mister L cosplay...
Reducio
Last edited by Piérre Marchonné on 6 Jan 2021, 18:33, edited 2 times in total.
Jesters do oft prove prophets. 𓀚
I am the brother account to Romeo Marchonné & Zyva Hel Fae Skógrwight