What is the First Rule... Slytherin Event

Mentions Thora Larkston and Flash Holmwood

It was not much longer until they were moving. The boy rose up from his seat and opened a trap door. Bridget's stomach was officially in knots; this wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. Because if a tent with a basement wasn't worrying enough, the trap door meant no one would be able to find them. If help somehow did come, if someone came looking for them, they might not find them. And if they did, it would be too late.

At his announcement that magic wouldn't work down there, Bridget decided down there was the last place she wanted to go. But... she'd watched Thora try to leave, only to enter from a different flap. There was no leaving. No help. No escape. No magic. A bead of sweat trickled down her spine, and it wasn't from the summer heat. It was from panic. This time, they'd gone too far in search of answers. Speaking of which, what had the invitation even said? With another jolt of dread, she realized she couldn't remember reading the slip of paper, much recall less its contents. And now the only clue to what she'd gotten herself into was a pile of ashes.

As her housemates trickled after the boy, she had no choice but to follow. She waited so she was towards the end of the line; there was no point charging into something so obviously dangerous. What was this he was saying about victims and collateral damage? That they didn't care? She wasn't about to waste her time deciding on the verity of his statement, not with their much more imminent doom, but she did note the fact he knew about them, what they'd done, which pointed to him likely being a Hogwarts student. Certainly she would recognize someone so disfigured, though, even if she'd only passed them in the hallways. Well, she did recognize him, not that she could put her finger on how exactly. Still, the marring she didn't recall.

All too soon, the passageway ended. As they emerged, Bridget decided she would have rather stayed in that corridor forever, full of trepidation for what they would face, then actually face it. It was too loud. People yelling, cheering, laughing. At them. They were here to watch them. If she was worried before, now she was near being sick. Crowds... she hated them. Hated the feeling of all those eyes on her. It was a miracle she'd managed to play Quidditch, although certainly not without nerves, but the truth was, Quidditch was her element. Flying through the air, she could forget about the audience. This... this was not her element at all.

Beyond all the spectators of whatever this was, one other thing caught her eye. The ring. So the speculations of the other kids were right. This was a fight club. The boy removed his hooded cloak and stepped into the roped-off area. That's when she realized who she was. The scars. All over his body. Or, more accurately, the burns. This was Victor Moore.

They were divided into teams. It really was dehumanizing, their identities belonging exclusively to numbers. Still, for what they were about to get into, maybe it was better to just be a number. It was clear caring about others was not going to get her through this. Unless she willingly let herself be beaten to a pulp, which Bridget knew she couldn't do. She would fight. Not to win, necessarily, but just to get out of this awful place. She was even more sure the boy was Victor Moore when he declared that the victorious group would face off against Vladimir and, if they won, ask him any question they liked. Now, of course there were things she'd like to ask the older Ravenclaw who was somehow caught up, or perhaps the reason, for the terrible things that kept happening at Hogwarts. But at what cost for what, one question? Hurting everyone in her House? It wasn't as if she had some undying loyalty to her housemates--in fact, Thora was the only one she couldn't attack, and maybe with their recently achieved status as allies, Flash--but she'd rather fight any of them.

Besides, they wouldn't win. They would never get the chance to eat dinner with Vladimir and ask him anything. By the time anyone got to him, they'd be bruised and exhausted. The Blossom Ball had proven at full health, they barely stood a chance of defeating him, what with the Ravenclaw making it through a fist fight and several Knockback Jinxes and still seemingly completely unfazed.

Flash was calling for everyone to refuse to fight. While she had to hand it to him--it wasn't a bad idea--she knew it would never work. Already Slytherins were gearing up to fight, not giving a second thought to another way out of this. And even if they did all refuse, everyone in the bleachers would surely be able to force them. She was about to walk over to him, recommend they instead conspire to leave one group unharmed so they could face Vladimir at their best (Flash surely had more connections, so could help spread the word), but she stopped. That, too, would be pointless. Some people were either too stubborn or too stupid to ever agree.

So what options did they have left? To fight? It seemed so. Bridget was filled with even more dread as she realized, chances were, they'd all be left unconscious after this. Was that the point of it all? To make them vulnerable so they could serve some sinister purpose? It wasn't like they could defend themselves all too well when they weren't knocked out anyways--how could a bunch of first years, a handful of second years, and a token third year?

At this point, her hands were shaking. Bridget was terrified. All she could do was put on a brave face, though, or at least an indifferent one. She was going to have to fight her housemates. In front of all these people. And probably be left unconscious to their devices. But what choice did she have?

Stats:
5 Stamina | 9 Evasion | 3 Strength | 9 Wisdom | 7 Arcane Power | 8 Accuracy
Race/Abilities:
Full Human | Sixth Sense | Evasive Maneuvers

Nick stood around in the back, watching everyone interact with each other. He didn't really know anyone here so he didn't think there was a need to interact with them. Ironically, he recognized most of these people's faces, in fact, he thinks that everyone here goes to Hogwarts, and most seemed to be Slytherins. He wondered why they all got the same invitation as he occasionally rubbed the area on his arm where the "29" was imprinted.

Walking towards the boy that was just behind the desk, the words that he was saying were confusing to Nick. "Wand magic won't work here"? He knew that you could put hexes onto an environment to make magic not work there but this was the first time he was ever in one of those areas. After a year of having magic at the tip of fingers every single day, it made him feel... vulnerable.

When the boy asked them to go down through the trapdoor, Nick didn't raise any questions and just followed him. Maybe if he got weirded out by what they were doing down there would try to escape, he knew he would probably lose the chance to do so at that point, but he wasn't quite worried right now. He had always just known when he was going to be in danger and he just wasn't feeling that right now.

Walking down through the trapdoor Nick was expecting some sort of "don't drink the punch" kind of cult thing, but what he actually saw was very, very, very far from what he could ever imagine. The arena itself was weird enough, but there were bleachers FULL of people. Nick kind of just stood there gaping at the sight.

The boy that was apparently pulling the strings of this operation disrobed and revealed his body. The way Nick's brain processed the boy was weird, almost as if he recognized him but he would instantly recognize as disfigured of a boy like that. it wasn't that he was extremely disfigured in any one way, it's just that every little thing about him made him look... different.

Then it hit him like a potato sack, it was that boy! That boy that was hallucinating the night the spiders came and the boy that got Nick involved with the spiders in the first place. If it wasn't for him, he would've been fast asleep that night, wouldn't have started a fire and injured a bunch of people, and wouldn't have had one of there most traumatizing experiences of his life that nearly cost him it.

The boy started going on a "Fight Club" monologue and Nick clenched his fists. 'I didn't sign up for this muggle crap' Nick thought to himself. He was good at casting spells and avoiding other people's spells. He was not good at giving or receiving punches. At least he was on one of the five-player teams so he guessed his team had a slight advantage, at least if they won the first round.

"10, 27, 5, 29 and 15". Nick wasn't about to be all morally just and try to fight back against this weird game, he knew that would be a futile effort, so he decided the best thing to do was find his team. He was 29 so that meant everyone else on his team was already in the tent when he went in, that didn't eliminate many people though. He supposed he was just going to see if he could spot anyone with the other numbers on their arm.

To at least make it easier for his teammates to find him, Nick rolled up the sleeve of his shirt so the tag was very visible. It made Nick feel really uncomfortable that they were all degraded down to numbers. He wondered if the audience was betting on them like they were racehorses as he rubbed the mark.

Looking around, everyone was running around or sticking to each other so it was hard to keep track of everyone's number. He thought it an extra cruel bit of torture for the boy to not show them who's who. Nick decided, for now at least, to stay put in the relative center of everyone so his teammates would have an easier time finding him. They were the first ones up, so they really needed to find each other quickly.

Ability = Seer
Strength = 3 | Evasion = 8 | Wisdom = 4 | Arcane Power = 4 | Accuracy = 7 | Stamina = 4

Mentions: @Dealla Prince @Erik Tharaldson @Søren Silverwood @Cassandra Ironwoods

Ileen felt panic rising within her. Even though she wasn’t able to cast many helpful spells so far, she felt kind of unprotected without a working wand. On the way down, she had tried to stick with Dee and Erik if possible, also with Søren, their latest group member.
She was very happy that her two friends were with her as they listened to the completely absurd rules while the audience made a deafening noise. Ileen lost all the color from her face - she felt sick. Her thoughts rotated while her gaze glided across the room looking for some form of exit - some way out of this situation! This was literally her worst nightmare, but she was paralyzed listening to the strange boy with the injured and thin body. Automatically she grabbed Dee's hand with one and Erik's hand with the other and clasped them tightly. Apart from that she was completely unable to move.
There was only one thought in her head: I can’t do this.
Was this some sort of punishment? And if yes, what for? And who were these mad people, enjoying being an audience of forced child fight? Madness!

She didn’t even listen to the so called ‘price’ – it didn’t matter. For nothing in this world would she hurt her friends. Nothing.
The whole year she had been searching for the mistakes her parents had done. She had avoided all things where she could have done something that made her even slightly a bad person. Now, she couldn’t help but wonder, if her parents had been in a similar situation. What if they had been in some sort of fight club as well – and they had been the winning team, hated by all the others?

The first number that was called was 18. Her number. She flinched, her eyes wide open. Other numbers were following: 26, 8, 12 and 14.
The hand that was already clutching around her stomach grabbed even tighter. She did not know exactly what numbers Erik and Dee had, so she let go of their hands and turned to them. She grabbed their pullovers, torn them down at the shoulders and had a look by herself. First Dee, then Erik. Her heart sank. 20 and 23. They were not in her group.
“I won’t fight you.” Her voice failed and she stared at them with panic in her eyes. The fear was clearly written on her face. “I – we should – “ She couldn’t even stand the thought of anyone hurting them. But herself? Never. “If we can’t escape, you have to survive this. Don’t you dare to leave me.” Her voice was a frightened squeak.

Could she refuse to fight? Would the others refuse to fight as well? Because that was the thing they should do. But as far as she experienced the temper of her Housemates so far, she wouldn’t bet on that. She exhaled, and with a trembling hand brushed the hair out of her eyes. “If we have a winner in the end, we are all losers.”
In that moment she decided something. If there was no escape and she would face Dee or Erik, she would rather get down than hurt them. Not Dee. Not Erik.

In that moment Dee was approached by another Slytherin student. Ileen recognized the face from the party, but they had not spoken since. Cash, that was the name to the face. Well, at least one more who thought that this was madness. She didn’t even bother to look for her group – she was still in shock and not ready to leave Dee and Erik.

Team: @Percival Rainwood @Selim Faust @Wyatt Starkey @Emmanuel Min Requiza

Ability: Sixth Sense
Stats: Sta:5 | Ev:7 | Str:3 | Wis:7 | Arc:6 | Acc:7

Opeila sent her boyfriend a sharp look. "Don't you call me that again!", she said, raising one finger in his direction. She nodded at his question about the invitation. "Yes. I guess yours didn't have a lot of info on it either?
Oh and let that party topic go, would you?" She shook her head. This was clearly not the right time for this, was it?

Flash seemed to feel her slowly increasing nervosity and put a hand on her shoulder. It only took a second to calm her down again. Right. They needed to keep a clear head in this and find out what was even going on here. Flash said they would stay together unless they were split up to fight one another. Opeila chuckled a little. This was highly unlikely, right?

How wrong she was. The first year's smile faded when the guy explained why they were here. Fightclub? Her horror grew when he announced that there would be no magic. Suddenly, especially surrounded by a group of boys that were either taller than her or knew how to fight, she was very aware that she would be an easy victim in this game. If people went with this, she would totally get hurt.

And when he mentioned Vladimir, she no longer doubted that the teachers were not involved in this. "... Is that Victor?", she murmured, but went silent again, when he read out the numbers. Group 4. 2, 11, 24, 25. None of the boys she had only just asked to stay together, were in this group. Who were 11, 24 and 25? Opeila looked around. They would fight against group 3? Although she had not heard the numbers, she had realized, that group 3 had five people. That was totally unfair!

But no one would agree to this, right? "...They can't expect us to actually participate to get an answer from Vladimir. That is rubbish! Most in here don't even know him, do they? What do they get out of this?" Opeila once more felt panic grow inside her. She was far from fearless and shemost certainly didn't want to fight her housemates. At least she had practiced how to throw punches without breaking her hand after the incidence with Warren.

She heard Percival say something, seemingly just as disbelieving as her. She just nodded. This was not what she had expected.

Special Race: Seer

Stamina: 5
Evasion: 4
Strength: 4
Wisdom: 7
Arcane Power: 5
Accuracy: 5

Reducio

Percival had barely realized that Opeila had scolded him for calling her a nickname.

The boy was too distracted as he watched his dormmate, Selim Faust, disappear towards the back of the crowd.

Worry hit the boy as he tried to keep an eye on the dark-haired boy. It would do no good for their dorm to split up. Especially after just finding out they had to fight one another.

Though it seemed like fate had other plans for him.

Percival soon lost track of the dark-haired boy in the sea of faces. It did not help that his dormmate was shorter than the average male.

Though Selim did prove taller then Hana, but that wasn't exactly the hardest height to beat.

Percival's gaze caught on a boy, that he did not know, with the number '14' burned into his shoulder.

'18, 26, 8, 12 and 14'

It did not take long for the boy to realize that this unknown boy was on his team.

The unknown boy seemed to be getting ready to fight. Something Percival hadn't even thought about doing.

Percival glanced back towards his friend by his side with a mild look of worry.

In a way, Percival had trouble letting go. He couldn't protect him this time, not like the other cared, and it irked the boy.

Percival felt tense and uneasy. There was no good way to apologize for what might happen in there.

How was one supposed to apologize for something they are being forced to do? Something they despised doing.

It felt like he was going against his moral compass, and they didn't hold much power to stop it. They didn't even have working wands for ##### sake.

"Sorry." he mumbled simply as he wrapped his arms around the other in a makeshift hug.

Percival didn't hold it for long not wanting to get punched before the match even started.

The boy stepped away from the other, and let his gaze linger for a second.

Before turning to look towards the boy he had spotted earlier. Grouping with his teammates was probably a good move. Seeing it might be less of a chance they would hurt you.

Percival walked up to the boy with a weary look on his face.

"You're 14." the boy stated waving his hand towards the other's right arm.

"I'm 8. My name's Percival." he said trying to hopefully spark a conversation with the other.

The boy for the time being kept his shirt exactly where it was. Though to avoid any trouble sat down on the ground and peeled his shoes and socks off.

Interacting with: @Hanako Tone @Emmanuel Min Requiza
Mentions: @Opeila Seilun
Teammates: @Selim Faust @Wyatt Starkey @Ileen Knight

Stamina: 6 | Evasion: 5 | Strength: 7 | Wisdom: 4 | Arcane Power: 8 | Accuracy: 5

Ability: Foul play

list! The seconds ticked on and the list he had made in his head has been growing longer and longer. A dark basement and no magic working? How sad. He had just learned a new curse to use and it was a great misfortune that he won’t be using it in case of emergencies. What could he rely on?

His eyes immediately glanced back to Percival Rainwood and Adonis Thorn. Well, mostly Rainwood. He was taller than Hana much to his dismay and fairly stronger than the boy. It caused his stomach to twist every time he recalled how close they had been all year. The two Slytherins just got along smoothly and it didn’t matter how annoying Hanako tried to be since it seemed like his ally would just come back to his side. He convinced himself every day not to be attached to the smiling blonde pureblood. Counting down the seconds until he leaves for better friends, he liked to say. Unlike many others, Hanako didn’t feel as icky to keep Percival by his side. Mostly due to his use as a meat shield. Might as well humor him until his ally gets bored and dash off to his nicer better friends.

As long as Hanako stayed by him, he probably won’t get that badly injured anytime soon.

Although it wasn’t until they were shown the wrestling ring that Hanako decided “Hm...my death date is definitely today “.

The dude then removed his hood and other than wincing back in slight fear, he mumbled out “ Dear me, who h u r t you”. It was barely audible in the basement filled with loud chanting monkey for humans so there was no way Captain Scar could hear them. Jokes aside, the thought of a darker side of the world crashed into his mind. Although he needed a little help on being grateful, he was always glad he was one of the luckiest kids in the world to grow up sheltered and surrounded by wealth. Just what did Captain Scar go through to get that roughed up? It was like he made a living by brutally fighting.

Wait.

W a i t .

Oh dear, don’t-

"Welcome to Fight Club!"

“ NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOO! “ His throat dried from the sudden screech but it was nothing against the furious clapping and cheers from the crowd but his scream would have been sensed by the people closest to him. He needed to get out of here. Why did he decided to follow his dormmates and check this out? Why weren’t they given much information on what the whole thing was? HOW WAS HE SUPPOSED TO KNOW THIS WAS A FIGHT CLUB!? A CLUB HE DIDN’T EVEN WANT TO SIGN UP FOR! He eased down after seeing Percival that shifted closer to him but he definitely looked calmer than whatever Hanako looked when he screamed.

He took a deep breath and tried to keep cool. It’ll be fine, he assured himself. He had a meat shield. Everything was alright.

“ No shirt, no shoes, no weapons."

He took a deeper breath and covered his facial reactions with his hands mumbling something about the 19th of July and the High School Musical soundtrack as his funeral music. And the winner just gets a question answered and a date with Vladimir? Who in their right minds would ever be interested in-

He lifted his head from the covers of his hands and landed his eyes on miss Opeila Seilun.

He recalled the girl had been Vladimirs date to the horrid secret ball, but he wasn’t really paying attention to how he went. He heard screaming- but that was normal to hear at the ball. It didn’t look like she knew what was going on either, so Hanako decided he wouldn’t send her a silent judging look. Why would she go through brawling other students so she’ll get another date? He thought of her higher than that.

His usually cool face did look a bit glum at the moment but what made all the color drain from his face was when they announced who was fighting first. Instinctively, his right arm tensed, recalling the number 10 being burned there. Adonis and Percival, those two were in front of him. If he was 10, Adonis was 9 and Percival was…. His eyes glanced at his supposed meat shield. He muttered something about being his number and Hanako’s heartbeat raced. Pulling down his sleeve as if it would hide anything, he let out a nervous chuckle. “An h aha, well looks like I’ll be seeing you from the stan-ey ey!” he didn’t get to finish as Rainwood roughly yanked up his sleeve for Hanako’s number to be seen by all. He couldn’t even mutter out a reply- rather speechless at the horrible predicament they were in. He watched in numb silence, hand covering his brand as Percival looked like he was a ticking bomb just seconds to explode.

“ I-it’s alright “ he was talking in a tone that was odd on a playful guy like him, but was it really a surprise? He’s alone with 4 other unknown students and he had to fight someone that had always been the one that protected him. And in front of their no-good spectators? Where's the detailed brochure or permission slip? Did the club that never wanted to talk about their club was maybe- illegal? Could he just raise his arm and walk away?

The crowd gets a good show, he said? His shoulders tensed at that. Definitely not legal.

He heard Holmwood speak up about quitting the whole thing altogether and honestly, Hanako could not agree more, but his speech was rather lost at the moment. Mostly, he was too terrified to speak up and have his voice shaking. He was already trying hard to keep his legs from dropping to look more relaxed than Rainwood. He feared that if he started freaking out- then Rainwood would’ve eaten himself up for that. The poor Slytherin already looked stressed enough.

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact feelings he was experiencing at the moment, but he knew he could at least look like he didn’t have them.

A memory of the secret blossom ball flashed and he recalled when he had yelled at Rainwood for trying to help him out. It seemed like the two made up without any words but this aching feeling in his gut...why was it still here? Percival freaking out was making him feel weird. “ Gah, we’ll see if you manage to knock me out before I do it myself” he paused for a second. “ Bad time? Hm..” He nodded in agreement and took another look at the spectators.

Now, usually, he liked the attention but he didn’t like that he was getting attention by fighting other kids. The people cheered for this kind of entertainment made Hanako feel like they weren’t thinking of ways to make this generation better people than they were when watching kids act like angry animals. Everyone else was against it already, he didn’t feel the need to express his agreement with the bullcrappery of all this.

Before he could utter out anything else, a stranger came by with a great conversation starter by saying : ”I believe we’re supposed to be pummelling people together.”

“What better way to bond than that~?” he replied, finding some strength to smile again, mostly at the sight of the number on her stranger's arm. 15. And he didn’t even need to move an inch to find one of his teammates. A girl he had never seen in their year before with tufts of slightly curly blonde hair and a tone he appreciated. A confident one. God knows he needed to hear some at the moment.

She retorted Percy’s agitation at this whole fight club, but with the way she glared at the crowd and Captain Scar, it was clear she felt the same feelings but with a touch of realism. 15 introduced herself as Margo White and Hanako returned her grim smile.

“ Margo White does sound easier to say compared to 15. Hanako Tone, your teammate, and a fellow hater of this whole thing.” He didn’t know if he should introduce Percival to her as well. Would it show himself to be ready to share info on Percy since they were against each other in the next round? He was torn between furiously disagreeing with this and going with it. Clearly, he was taking this lighter than Percival. “ Well...I suppose White and I should take our leave and find other teammates. “ Running away was so much easier than debating what was a better option.

“ Look, Rainwood she’s right, unfortunately. The guys running this don’t look like they’ll allow us to go on our merry way hand in hand with gift bags. We’ll leave, just after this. It’s really cool for you to punch us or whatever~”.

There it was. That childishly impish tone that made it difficult to tell if he was lying or not. Margo might be confused by his sudden tone but Rainwood would know all too well what Hanako was trying to do. He was avoiding giving a straight answer. Whether it was a good sign or bad, it would be up to Percival. “ My teammates is another story but try not to mess up my face too much, Rainwood~” He cooed, patting his friends head as if he was a child in need of some assurance. “ We all can grab some drinks after this whole thing blows out. See you later, Percival~” He avoided sending him a good. He showed the biggest grin he could muster and showed his ally two energetic thumbs up to show his lack of concern at the results of this round.

Before he could run off with Margo, he was frozen by Percivals quick hug. His shoulders tensed and his face contorted to a semi shocked one but the other pulled away before Hanako could react further and dashed off with a sorry. A sorry? What does he mean by sorry?

Hanako stood frozen, perplexed as his eyes glued on Percy’s retreating back. “ Percival Rainwood…” he started to say loud enough for Margo to hear, yet his eyes never moved. “ Watch out for that one “ he curtly warned.

He turned around, firmly grabbed Margo’s shoulder and guided her to the opposite direction. Though he had revealed his carefree attitude about getting plummeted by Rainwood, Margo might have felt his hands tremble as they loosened their grip on her shoulders. Has the sweet image of victory got to his head? Just recalling his vague apology made his hands curl up into a fist. Was he sorry that this happened to them or was he sorry for any future punches he might actually make? Either way that was low. Genuine or not- he was uncomfortable by the timing he decided to hug him. Was it a ploy to make Hanako help his team win? Hanako doubted that. Percival should know it wasn’t Hanako’s nature to get swayed too easily. If he wasn’t sure if he should take this match seriously, then he certainly did now.

“ He may look like a gentleman and a tall baby, but he’s the strongest 1st year I know. One hit from him could make us go limp “. His heart was a tangled ball of yarn. But it was too late to take back his words. Whether he would regret it or not, his teammate White was now aware of the one thing Hanako could help the team with. Information. “ Do you think low of me?” He questioned, focused on Margo’s reaction with a tired smile. “ I think I just sold out important info about someone close to me for the sake of our team. Are you not worried of having a teammate like me ?”

Mentioning: @Flash Holmwood @Opeila Seilun

Was Interacting: @Percival Rainwood

Is Interacting: @Margo White

Action : sharing information on Rainwood to teammate 15

S t a m i n a : 4 S t r e n g t h : 3 A r c a n e : 8
P o w e r A c c u r a c y : 7 E v a s i o n : 5 W i s d o m :3

It had seemed no one else knew what was going on. But, that was soon answered, as the one who took their invitations disrobed himself.

Dan recognized the person almost instantly. Victor Moore. He had had a run in with him in the abandoned bathrooms, while he was still well into white hot rage at what he had perceived Victor had done.
Due to this, Dan had almost beaten him senseless, were it not for the fact that Victor seemed innocent of the attack on Slytherin. Dan had honestly felt really bad about that after he had cooled off fully. He had looked for Victor to apologize, but was not able to find him. As he had mentioned, Dan placed betrayal as one of the worst things a person could do, and would hold it against them forever if they did nothing to make up for it. And seeing what Vlad had done to him made Dan despise the Ravenclaw bastard.
When he'd heard about what happened to him at the Blossom Ball, he felt even worse. Truth be told, Dan had had no idea Victor was even at the ball in the first place, and even if he had, there was very little he could have done to help.
Seeing him now, Dan almost wanted to run up and hug him, followed by demanding he go to St. Mungo's and specifically request his mother. She would be able to fix him right back up. What stopped him from doing so was twofold; One, everyone's eyes would immediately be on him. The thought of which was enough to keep Dan frozen in place all on it's own. Two, he began to announce what they were doing there.

A most definitely illegal children's fighting ring.

And just like that, Dan felt the rage returning. While he was innocent before, this was a blatantly obvious betrayal of his house. The only thing more blatant than this was how much of a ripoff of a movie this was.
Furthermore, they were to fight each other, so that they could fight Vlad, for a chance to have one question answered over dinner? What, were they supposed to be foaming at the mouth at the idea? Dan had seen Vlad fight at the ball. After this stupid tournament, what was left of the winning group would have better chances going into a hurricane and trying to piss in one direction. And even if they won, they only got ONE question.

This was lunacy. Surely no one would fall for something so obvious. Even Jack Burnett wasn't that stupid.
Though Dan, admittedly, was excited about the no shirt and no shoes rule. Every boy in Slytherin that he knew of was cute. The idea of seeing all of them shirtless and barefooted made him slightly giddy. But he stifled that emotion for the moment. There was something long overdue that needed doing. And he had Victor here. If he was going to do it, now was the time to.

Dan started powerwalking to Victor, using his anger as fuel to keep him going, waiting until he got close enough, and-

"VICTOR!!!!"

He paused briefly.

"I made a mistake! I made the mistake of going into an interrogation hot, and said things I shouldn't have! I made false assumptions, I took out my anger on the wrong person, and I am SORRY!"

After seeing how Victor reacted, and reacting accordingly himself, Dan would turn and head toward the people in his group. He dimly saw Selim heading toward Victor too, but the embarrassment was starting to kick in, so Dan had to move fast so that all his housemates weren't looking at him.
Since his group was up first, he pulled off his hoodie jacket, followed by his shirt.
He didn't WANT to fight, but while he and his team were putting on a show, maybe someone not fighting could find a way out and get some Aurors in here.

"Oi. Names Dan. I....don't recognize ye lot. Wanna get teh know each other before this shite starts?"

Note: Dan's reaction to what Victor says or does with his apology will be outlined in the beginning of my next post.
Interacting with @Victor Moore @Hanako Tone @Bridget Collins @Caelan Stewart @Margo White
Mentions: @Vladimir Athanatos @Jack Burnett @Selim Faust

Abilities: Keen Eye. Evasive Maneuvers.
Stats: STAMINA: 8 EVASION: 9 STRENGTH: 2 WISDOM: 8 ARCANE POWER: 6 ACCURACY: 8

To his side, the Slytherin prefect glanced in Thomas’ direction to confirm she had no more knowledge than he. Were there even perks of being a prefect? It did not seem they had an inside scoop, containing just as much information as their peers regarding house related functions. Combined with their superiors expecting leadership, the appeal of this position dwindled as Thomas considered it. With this expectation to lead, and to take the fall when things go wrong, materializing a level of stress not easily surmounted. The boy’s only real friend, perhaps of the past, appeared weighted under the pressure of this position as well.

Upon further examination, the girl had lovely blue eyes to accompany her red locks. As is common with this hair tint, her skin white and pale. When her lips parted to speak, Thomas eyed the pointed teeth evenly placed near the upper corners of her lips. It was not a deterrent of beauty, on the contrary, as what made the girl different only furthered her appeal, at least to Thomas. His blue eyes would wander past the girl for several moments in reflection of an old friend. He often considered the reality of Howard's story, and what came to be in their last moments together. Their mutual friend acquaintance, Erin Ryan, hinted at drastic changes to Howard. Thomas would not initially believe her, until his encounter with a Gryffindor third year. A simple run-in, that left him with the boy’s profile as…a monster.

'What I can say is that... I don't have a good feeling about this.. This and... other things.

Not exactly a declaration you would expect from someone of leadership. To no surprise or fault of her own, the school suffered from poor leadership across the board. “Do not be a victim of your feelings.” He announced, albeit hypocritical given some of his reactive tendencies, but as time passed Thomas has learned to trust his instincts, and reasoning. Tuning out the whim from high emotions. Thomas would introduce some of this reason if she had not already considered the facts at hand. His voice would lower, the words to follow were only meant for the dhampir. “Do you recognize him? I do. The invitation, the cursed, eye, and spider.” Thomas motioned towards the hooded boy if the dhampir was not already looking that way. “The symbol reminiscent of something I have seen before…on her skin.” Of course, he was referring to Marion now, but he would not specify. ”Always three.”Now repeating words that were once spoken to him by a certain aunt. “They are all here.”

Thomas’ eyes would find Thora Larkston, marked shortly after he was. He noted her attempted exit from one side of the tent, only to reappear on the opposite side. He eyed her carefully, offering one more deduction to the dhampir by his side. “We are stuck.” With the fear of the unknown amounting, of course Thomas would deem this a time for introductions. “Thomas Lestrange.” He pressed his lips together, leaning his head forward with an inquisitive gaze. If she wanted to offer her name in return, now was the time. If the girl offered her name in return, Thomas would say. “Excuse me, Nico.” If not, just excuse me.

Arriving last was a girl Thomas had his eye on for some time now. Not in a creepy way, but her aura inspired curiosity. Something about her was uncomfortable, the type of person that leads others to move out of the way when they walk by. The right moment for their introduction continued to elude him. But as the students followed Victor onto a set of stairs, he would casually find her side before the darkness surrounded them. In her presence, the words eluded him. At least, the proper words. You come here often? No. Are you from Tennessee, cause you’re the only ten I see. NO, that’s not even a real place. Are you a bank loan, cause you got my intere—Thomas internally facepalmed, any of those would’ve been better than what actually came out of his mouth. After an awkward silence that accompanied his eyes in her direction, he spoke. “…Hey.”



Upon entrance, the stakes would be established. There were no professors, adult officials, no safety inducing regulations. The roaring crowd surrounded a ring, followed by the announcements a fight club was beginning and group placement. Thomas had no way to know the numbers he was paired with, nor did he care to find them at this moment in time. The sudden change of scenery had him lose the girl he last spoke to [Astrea]. Though if she attempted to find Thomas to respond, he would not be opposed. But why would she?

The ultimate victor of all of these brackets will get to take on number 1. Win or lose, you get out of here, the crowd gets a good show and if you win... you can take on Vladimir. Beat him and he will answer one question of your choice over dinner."

Was this wordplay, or coincidence? The Victor is rewarded with a one-on-one with Vladimir, and a question. An appealing proposition for Thomas Lestrange, but there was no promise of truth. Only an answer to a question of choice. This reward hardly worthy of battering his peers beyond repair. To be stuck in this coliseum at Vladimir’s mercy, branded with a number goes to show this battle is a loser’s fight. People should know when they are conquered. If the consensus was to lay down their arms(literally) and refuse to fight, surely elements would arrive to nudge the teenagers into battle. The older Raven would sit atop his throne and control through the fear. Despair, fear of loss, and fear of pain. All that was required to initiate this chain reaction, the throwing of the first stone. Who would throw the stone?

On the heels of inserting himself on Vladimir’s behalf at the ball, another opportunity arrived to further trust from the older Ravenclaw. But things were not always what they appeared to be. Thomas would begin his hunt for the boy’s desired results and adhere to them. Or would he? The uncomfortable stirring amongst students led many to vocalize their concerns, and disapproval of their reality. Through the crowd, Thomas found Santario Martin. It seems they only found each other before chaos erupts. He found her side whilst scanning their surroundings. “Don’t suppose you’re here to take pictures this time?” The boy had a habit of finding humor amidst a state of panic. After all, he has been in worse situations.

Mentions: @Thora Larkston @Victor Moore @Vladimir Athanatos

Interactions: @Nico Shymane @Astrea Soleil Neptune @Santario Martin

Interacting| @Thomas Lestrange

Santario rolled up the sleeve of her cotton, black t-shirt showing off the branded 13 in case her so called team wanted to find her. She would not move from her spot in the back where she observed everyone and try to find them, she didn’t care to. It didn’t matter how alone and afraid she was right now. There was only one thing to do, and that was stand her ground. She had made her decision, and there wasn’t a thing anyone here could do to her to change her mind. Maybe it was her mulling over the situation she had gotten herself into, but no matter how observant she thought she was, there was always one that slipped her radar and how fitting it was that his voice reached her ears.



Chaos certainly did have a way of bringing the two together; perhaps they could someday use it to their advantage. A small bell-like laugh accompanied by a shake of her head, her hand moving up to swoop her hair from her face. The laughter was undoubtedly inappropriate for the mess they had landed themselves into, but not an inappropriate reaction to his words. She looked up at him, a soft smile playing at the corners of her lips, perhaps just happy enough to see a familiar face. “No, my dear Reaper, not today. Her silvery voice would have no problem cutting through whatever din of excitement or protest was taking place around them. “I plan to take as many photos here as I plan on throwing punches.”

Her arms crossed over her chest in a subconscious way of protecting herself regardless of how futile it was. The boy next to her had a bit of a more durable build, and she wanted nothing more than to hide behind him. While someone like him could offer her protection in a normal situation, something like that would not work here, and she refused to show the weakness that she knew was there. They were on different teams, and since she didn’t know his number, she was going to be on the side against his for all she knew. “Hopefully we both make it out of this one alive.” She murmured knowing he had better luck than she did especially with her stance.

Interacting with @Thomas Lestrange | Mentions @Victor Moore, @Vladimir Athanatos and @Dan Palmer

A... victim of her own feelings. Those words lingered within her for way longer than she liked. It reminded her of the multiple times where her own feelings told her about others. What they probably thought, what they probably were, how they probably saw her as,... The goopy, inky feeling of dread and despair whenever someone didn't listen to her or ignored her. It all came together into her own fearful brain. This person might have a way with words. Slightly uncomfortable, Nico straightened her back before setting one step back from him. Just to create some space between them. He didn't need to come closer than he had to.

But to no avail. He came closer to her again, leaning in, keeping this between them. If she recognised the boy at the entrance? Truth be told, he did seem familiar to her when she met him eye to eye. Thomas spoke about the Eye, the Curse and the Spider. Nico wasn't sure where he was going with that. The only thing that came up in her mind was the time she spent at the Hospital Wing, hearing the many voices of students in pain. If she remembered correctly, some thought the spiders that got into the Common Room, were part of a curse. Which kind of curse? No idea. But it sucked either way.

A symbol on someones skin? Her skin? Who was he talking about? 'Who?...' It didn't add up. How was it possible that everyone else seemed to know a whole lot more about all these symbols and curses than she did? It made her job look like a joke, no doubt. 'Always... three.' Now looking straight at him, worried with a quirked eyebrow. 'Who-... Wh- Who's here?' Why did this boy never fully clarify what he was talking about. All these secrets. They kept on popping up and it made her feel more confused than before.
It scared her that she actually was this clueless. Her hand ran up to her face before, gliding through her hair in frustration as she closed her eyes. Crap. And now they were stuck too, great. This nightmare was no longer escapable. Not in the way they came in here, atleast.

Finally, she could glue a name to this strange boys face: Thomas. It sounded more familiar to her than she'd like. 'Ehm.. Nico Shymane.' She spoke after blinking her eyes a few times. She wasn't sure if he was going to be another person who'd hate her or would end up being her friend. She wouldn't find out soon since he got distracted by someone else in the room. She nodded at him as he excused himself.

Alone again... Naturally...

From that point onward, things started to change and get in motion. Turning towards the entrance, the boy who once burned them opened a passage. An underground one. A basement? Lucky for the slytherins, they're used to basements. Well... Dungeons, to be exact. But there too it was dark and moist. Nico didn't want to follow him right away, she stayed until the very last to descend the dark stairs. She didn't feel comfortable being surrounded by people who probably didn't like her.
Walking down, it slowely started to hit Nico who the hooded boy was. Why the gleam in his eyes was so familiar to her. Could it... really?

His voice was beginning to be overwhelmed by thousands of other ones. Standing more to the back of the group, Nico's eyes widened in disbelief. An entire crowd, surrounding a pit. It reminded her of a boxing ring. In the Muggle World it was rather popular in America apparantly. Her stomach started to turn and feel weird. This was getting worse by the second. When he dropped down his robes, Nico felt an intense sense of fear and disgust fall over her. It nearly let her sink onto her knees but she managed to stay put.

'V-Victor...' She muttered, a few red tears welling in the corner of her eyes. What happened to him? He looked awful. That wasn't even the best way to discribe him. The last time she saw him, he was burnt to a crisp. Barely alive. Why... What... Nico, as per usual, started to softly cry. The kind of crying that no one could hear but would clearly see if they looked at her. Several small streams of blood ran down her porcelain cheeks. What was this overwhelming feeling? Was it guilt? Despair? How could she, as a prefect, let it have come to this? Was there no way she could've prevented this from happening?

No wands or weapons. This really.. was going to be an up close fight. Face to face. Personal. The dhampir didn't realise how personal it would become until right after Victor started to mention teams. And what even was their price? Their goal? Vladimir? So... He was that Vladimir. This was madness. The cheering of the crowd surrounding them, scared her. It was loud. The millions of eyes watching them as they stood there.

'...24..'

Pulled right back to the present, Nico felt a shiver go down her spine. She responded to her number now. Which... wasn't good. Who was she even in a team with? Actually, no. She didn't want to know. Nope. This was... too much. Not sure how to deal with all this, the dhampir attempted to serperate herself once more of the group, facing the stairs they descended from. Her sleeves slowely getting stained with the blood drops of her tears as she tried to stop them from rolling down.

In the distance she could hear Dan yell out an apology. What the fuck... A deep, hollow sensation overcame the young dhampir. It felt tribal and old. Why did he get an apology but she's a fricking monster? It may be a miracle that she wasn't standing there, next to Victor. Looming over the many students who clearly thought she was inferior to them. It angered her. It pissed her off so much. She realised that and she decided to definitely try and not make eye contact with him. Chances were he might not survive if he did...

Abilities : Lovely Creature
Stats:
Stamina: 10 | Evasion: 8 | Strength: 4 | Wisdom: 6 | ArcPower: 2 | Accuracy: 6