Blossom Ball - Spring Festival
Finally, the long-awaited event of the season was upon them! Not unlike the progression from winter into spring, Hogwarts students had transformed from the doldrums of everyday life into blooming flowers full of all the boisterous energy of youth. The students had traversed the dark path from the Underworld, softly lit with bluebell flames and lined with higanbana - red spider lilies - to let out into the warm evening air on the grounds. Cherry blossom petals drifted downward as they made their way toward the warm and inviting area that had been set up for the Spring Festival, the heart of this year’s mysterious Blossom Ball. Here the light was bright yellows and oranges, suffusing the area with a warmth that was reminiscent of the sun. The edge of the lake could be seen just past the boundaries, floating lanterns and lotus flowers bobbing along the shoreline, a warning not to drift too far from the enticing and lively party.
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The first thing to no doubt catch the eye of the students as they flocked to the Ball would be the tables set up along the edges of the celebration area, long wooden trestle tables laden with all manner of spring themed tasties. Bowls of fruits, fresh baked breads, platters of cut meats and cheeses, a bounty continually refreshed by the aide of the house elves, some of which may even be adorned with bright flower crowns. Pitchers of brightly coloured beverages were available to quench one’s thirst. Scattered between the plates of food were bouquets and garlands of flowers; aconite and aster, anemone and hyacinth, dianthus and narcissus. Each flower tied to a Greek Myth; each flower tied to a tragedy. Bright and beautiful, flowers that bloomed in the wake of death, a reminder of the cyclical nature of all things. At the edges of the tables, stacks of flower crowns and laurel crowns could be found for the taking.
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The next sight to draw the eyes would be the dancefloor, a circular stretch of wood surrounded by the tables, brightly lit with hanging lanterns that cast spring themed patterns onto the floor. As the Underworld had given the impression of quiet, of soft slow music, so the Spring Festival was full of boisterous dance songs, possibly recognizable to those muggleborns or half bloods though no doubt many a pureblood might find themselves confused by the modern music.
An absolutely ridiculous playlist curated by Kaz with the help of various people in Discord.
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──────────────────The Spring Festival has begun!❀ In order to enter the Spring Festival, you must first pass through the Underworld.Keep in Mind
❀ Each character is allowed one action per round.
❀ The Blossom Ball is separated into two main threads, the Spring Festival and the Underworld. These are near each other and easy to get to. For the ease of moderation, leaving and entering a thread require a full action. Clearly write if you are entering/leaving, and specify which thread you are entering if moving to the other.
❀ Food and drinks are provided, however the drinks have… varied effects. Please write drinking any of the drinks available to you as a full action. There will be a roll for the effect of the drink.
❀ The Hero Trials are a rewarded side activity. You do not have to participate. However, two outstanding participants will be chosen as King and Queen of the ball, along with rewarded four galleons each.
❀ Moderation posts will occur weekly on Saturdays.
In order to join main story events, you must be indexed with an approved trunk.The Hero Trials
Reducio
Every few days a new poster had appeared hinting at some mystery that would be unveiled at the Blossom Ball. If one was clever, they might decipher the hints left in those posters but it wasn’t until the night of the ball that the organizers would reveal what they were teasing at. The theme of Ancient Greece would seep into every part of the Ball but this one idea in particular truly emphasized what people knew the best. The stories of Ancient Greece, tales telling of adventures and tragedies. Heros, normal people often thrust into extraordinary circumstances, forced to undergo trials given to them by their fickle gods to prove their worthiness.
On this night, those fickle gods have once again prepared trials for those brave enough to challenge them. Six in total, tailored to the theme of Persephone and Hades, yet also to the fact that these students are wizards. The Hero Trials were not required for all Ballgoers, only those interested in a challenge… and perhaps in a title. Two winners would be chosen and crowned King/Queen of the Ball. As well, a small purse of galleons would be gifted to them in reward for their hard work.
As the would-be Heros entered the Underworld, they would have the Trials explained to them and would be given directions to where each Trial would be taking place should they wish to enter.
There are six Trials, each one linked below. The contestants must complete all six trials to qualify for the crown. In some of the Trials, it is possible to gain bonus points in order to distinguish yourself. Contestants must designate one action to competing in the trials and make a post in each of the Trial threads below by July 9th. The moderation and announcement of the winners will follow in the next Spring Celebration/Underworld moderation posts. Note that anyone may participate in as many or few of the Trial threads for fun if they so choose, but that the only way to compete for the crown is to complete all six.
The Trial of Hades - Successfully find your way through the maze and successfully answer 3 questions to score a maximum of 6 points.
The Trial of Hecate - Prove your magical skills by performing up to three magical tasks to score a maximum of 3 points.
The Trial of Orpheus - Follow in the footsteps of Orpheus as he escaped the Underworld with his love. There is only one rule - Don’t. Look. Back. Pass or fail, no bonus.
The Trial of Hermes - Hermes has challenged you to a foot race. Make your way up the path from the Spring Celebration to the Underworld, obtain a pomegranate for Persephone, then return to the Spring Celebration as fast as you can, evading any obstacles along the way. Score a maximum of 3 points for avoiding obstacles.
The Trial of Persephone - Gather a bouquet of flowers for Persephone, just make sure you pick the right ones! The quicker you are, the more points you score, up to a maximum of 3.
The Trial of Apollo - Blessed Apollo demands a performance! Sing a song, recite a poem or dance in honour of the themes of Spring and Ancient Greece. This is a pass-or-fail challenge however rumour has it Apollo can be bribed for bonus points.
Some stories should never be told...
Blossom Ball - Spring Festival
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He feared for Marion but there was nothing he could do to change things. She was making her choice, one that he could not fully or truly fathom. Was she trying to make a point to him or someone else? Was he somehow forcing her? She could have asked him for help, he would have helped her. He felt that she was trying to hurt him. That she as partaking in these self-destructive behaviors for the purpose of destroying him, her one true friend. Madness, it was unfathomable yet his intuition screamed to him that she was not all that she seemed. Yes, his closest friend. A lovely creature he should be enamored by, but there was but a single thread of jealousy, his heart was not hers to have. Rather, he feared for her and he knew that he could not save her.
His track record with balls was not good. He should have stayed in his dorm and enjoyed a peaceful evening with his books. He could not, this was his one opportunity to step out of line. He was being watched by more than his peers. There were others that were looking for him. His precious wares stolen and his body beaten and drained. He had his suspicions and would have to keep to his own devices if he had any hope of overcoming them.
He was looking for a very specific person at the ball, Quinn Healy.
Aamon
Blossom Ball - Spring Festival
After a month of planning and plotting with his co-hosts, the fateful night had finally arrived. Kazuo had spent the entire day checking over everything one last time, reviewing every last tiny thing he could think of. Though he knew without a doubt that something would go wrong at some point, it wouldn’t be in the preparations. Whatever chaos unfolded, the presentation would be perfect before it was burned to ash. Once he was satisfied, it was back to the dorm to change, to put on a mask and play a god for the evening. Not a literal mask, of course, but one of costuming and poise. Flowing chiton - silk instead of linen - belted at the waist with gold chains, leather pteruges beneath the chiton and a stylized shoulder guard in the shape of a wing. Atop his raven hair, unfortunately most un-Apollon, sat a golden laurel crown. Finishing touches involved slinging a bow over his shoulder and carrying a small lyre. He gazed in the mirror, turning this way and that to examine the final production, lips curving into a smirk of satisfaction.
Barefoot, he made his way down to the Spring Celebration ahead of the anticipated crush of students, bypassing the Underworld - a privilege of being one of the organizers - his stomach fluttering with anticipation. So many different feelings - excitement, apprehension, nervousness - it was an addictive cocktail, an adrenaline inducing high. He was expecting so much chaos and unlike many of his fellow students, he welcomed it, however it might appear. Whether it be the drama of the other students or some unpredictable hag attack, he welcomed all of it. Too bad it was happening in the Underworld. He let his gaze wander over the tables and the dance floor, looking for anyone he recognized - most importantly for the lovely Aphrodite, his date for the evening. And for that Devil Queen, of course. His smirk grew at the thought of the chaos that he and Aphrodite were going to unleash on the unsuspecting witch.
It seemed neither had arrived yet, though he did spot Vlad entering from the path that led to the Underworld portion of the event. He seemed rather focused on finding someone or something. Kazuo’s head tilted slightly in curiosity as he watched the older Raven move about. That one was a fascination. So many rumours. He’d been away for some time, so the rumours said, due to injuries. The train heist, then something strange among the Ravens? Things he’d yet to confirm. Perhaps this night might provide him with an opportunity to speak with the mysterious Raven.
Leaving Vlad to his search, Kazuo turned instead toward a small dais set up near the dance floor, a bench seat for him and his lovely date. Though he would prefer to mingle, he had responsibilities. Besides which, there was something wholly entertaining about being the focus of attention, making the other students petition him for favour. He sat, exercising patience though the excitement made him want to move about. At the very least, he would wait for his date.
───────────── Interacting: Me, myself and I
Mentioning: @Dealla Prince as Aphrodite
@Vladimir Athanatos, the broody Raven
───────────────────────────── ────────────────Stats
Stamina 5
Evasion 7
Strength 5
Wisdom 6
Arcane Power 6
Accuracy 6───────────── ─────────────Abilities
Perfectionist
You have a reduced critical failure chance range by 1. In addition, you can counter up to 1 point of additional critical failure chances caused by abilities or spells (not potions).
Don't confuse my attitude with my personality. My personality is who I am; my attitude depends on who you are.
Blossom Ball - Spring Festival
Leaving the Underworld was like a breath of fresh air. Not because back there had been dark and foreboding, but because there were so many people building up into a smaller space. It had not done any wonders for the nerves that were building up for her planned confrontation. Though she could not deny the beauty and care that it took for the organizers to plan this area. Santario knew she should have tried to follow him sooner, but it would not take long to find the taller boy as not many people were here quite yet. Inside she was shaking like a leaf in the wind, but she needed to do this. It was now or never. After all, no one was there to try and stop her. She took a deep breath to steel herself as she determinedly made her way towards the older boy.Interacting| @Vladimir Athanatos
Mentioning| -
Attire - Medusa
Action| Leaving the Underworld. Entering the main ball area to bother Vlad.
“I don’t see a line, so it looks like I’m next.” Her voice sounded far more confident than she felt. Santario did not care who he was looking for, or at least she would not until she knew it was one of her closest friends. No, right now, she wanted his attention, and she was going to be damned if she let it slip away this time. “I understand you have another agenda, but I need to speak with you. I do not care if all I get to do is set up another time or a place to do so, but I will not be denied. One way or another.” Yes, the younger Slytherin exuded far more confidence than she really held, trying her best to hide her fear of the boy in front of her. The real test would be if he ignored her because she would have to put her money where her mouth was.
Healing Sage: +30% healing | Prodigal Charms | Impartial | Fearless
Stamina : 10 | Evasion : 7 | Strength : 3 | Wisdom : 12 | Arcane Power : 10 | Accuracy : 15
Stamina : 10 | Evasion : 7 | Strength : 3 | Wisdom : 12 | Arcane Power : 10 | Accuracy : 15
Blossom Ball - Spring Festival
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"That you are Miss Santario Martin, pureblooded daughter of French wizards Isabelle Dentelle de Clairmont Cillian Aedan Martin," Vladimir nodded. His attitude and demeanor entirely changed as he extended a gloved hand to the Slytherin. b]"As you well know, I am Vladimir Athanatos,"[/b] the statement seemed practiced, as if he had said it a hundred times before his very moment. If she accepted his hand, there would be nothing of particular note. His hand being slightly larger than the average hand, the boy being slightly taller than average but neither outlandish. The black leather gloves he donned were well-used and cared for, they seemed expensive. His grip was firm, again seemingly well-practiced.
Despite his emotional outburst mere minutes earlier, he seemed subdued. His face neutral less a tightness in the angle of his jaw.
“I understand you have another agenda, but I need to speak with you. I do not care if all I get to do is set up another time or a place to do so, but I will not be denied. One way or another.”
"They are not here yet," he claimed. A truth. in fact, he did not know if they were coming. It was but an idle hope and for the moment a much-needed distraction. The gears in his head were ever-turning. "I have a few moments before something goes wrong," he added, his eyes scanning the ball once again. The theme concerned him -- the stories often romanticized were not 'good' stories. There were powers at work that would ensure that this evening ended in tragedy. "In fact, I may be asking you for a favor so it would be to my benefit to have you in my debt," the ever pragmatic Ravenclaw would explain. He could have said otherwise to gain her trust, enamor her with his charm but he had already quickly decided that neither would be to his benefit. In truth , he knew that it would not behoove him.
Aamon
Blossom Ball - Spring Festival
Her brow, for only a second, slightly furrowed down at his unexpected reaction. She knew Vladimir knew how to work people, but she had not anticipated how quickly his personality could make a complete 180. She noted this because if she were not extremely careful, she would be caught like a fly in his webbing. The fact that he knew her and her parents’ names did not throw her, but it started confirming San's suspicions about his involvement or his knowledge of those involved.
Fear was still there but it was quickly being replaced with determination as he extended his hand signaling the start of it all. Her dance with the devil. It would be like every other dance with the devil, they would use each other to get what they wanted, but in the end, she knew she would always lose, but wasn’t she already prepared for that? Hadn’t she boasted to Thomas through tears that she was willing to give her life if it meant getting her revenge? Talk is cheap. Santario took Vladimir’s hand and noted his grip in-kind, presenting a firm but not disrespectful grip. Not like those other weak pureblood girls who only ever offered fingertips.
“To be perfectly clear, if your asked favor goes against any of my friends, I won’t do it. I’m not here to play games, so I won’t make you a promise I refuse to keep.” If Santario had one thing, she was primarily loyal. Her steadfast loyalty had never really been put to the test, and while the dark thoughts of betrayal lingered in the recesses of her mind, she would like to think that she would not do it if it came down to it. That was just one of those things that you never knew until you were in the thick of it all. It did not help that she was not sure if she could get her information from anyone else.
Her voice dropped to hushed tones, something that should only be heard by the one closest to her. Though it would not stop anyone from getting close enough to hear. “Last summer. Why were they there? You must understand, as far as I know, you organized the thing. It gives you a connection. I need to know.” If Vlad knew as much about her as she thought he did, then he should know exactly what and who she was talking about. After all, it wasn't like the fact that her parents had been tortured to death by an unforgivable curse had been a secret in the outside world. The only thing that had never been made public was that there had been a living witness.
Healing Sage: +30% healing | Prodigal Charms | Impartial | Fearless
Stamina : 10 | Evasion : 7 | Strength : 3 | Wisdom : 12 | Arcane Power : 10 | Accuracy : 15
Stamina : 10 | Evasion : 7 | Strength : 3 | Wisdom : 12 | Arcane Power : 10 | Accuracy : 15
Blossom Ball - Spring Festival
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"Making a deal I know would be broken would be a deal made in bad spirit," he answered. He would be a fool if he believed that she would do anything ill-natured for his benefit. In truth, he did not need her to. Loyalty did not come so cheap. "No," he shook his head. "I would not sully your reputation or tarnish your ethics," she was his plan B.
She would not have the patience for a lengthy song and dance. Few women did. He would give her his price after he gave her the answers she so coveted. He was unfamiliar with the music that was playing, he found it irksome, he wanted to ask the lovely Slytherin to dance for perhaps the same reason her voice was lowered to a whisper.
“Last summer. Why were they there? You must understand, as far as I know, you organized the thing. It gives you a connection. I need to know.”
"I did not," he admitted. An awkward silence would follow. They was a vague question. One he would not be able to answer. Not without the right question. "They--" he repeated. "Look at me," an upward gaze even in a pair of heels. The windows were as some would say the passageway to the soul. "And let me in," his voice calm, almost velvety.
She might feel it, a knocking. A knocking that was not heard but felt. A powerful psychic force that threatened to overwhelm her if given the oppertunity.
"I won't break in and give you another excuse to revile me," he added. He was revealing to what he was, his nature being rare and unique, something treasured by some but feared by others. She could just say it -- who she referred to. The studious Ravenclaw was far from omniscient, but he knew more than he ever should have. "People forget that just because I am brilliant I am human also," he claimed. He cannot answer a question left unasked.
Aamon
Blossom Ball - Spring Festival
An eyebrow arched as she was slightly taken aback back by the fact that he did not want to ask her to betray those she cared about. Truly while she had three friends, only one was above betrayal. If helping him meant scorning the others… Her heart told her she would.
She queried one of her questions, the more selfish one as vaguely as possible. She, of course, knew Vlad had been there, but when did he show up? How much had he seen or heard? Then an admittance to not having organized it brought a frown to her face. Not out of anger, but confusion. Sure, he was young; he should not have had the power to organize such a thing, but if there was anything that Vlad was, it was a mystery.
She allowed the silence to linger even when he asked her to look at him. The fourth year would tower over her even if she were in heels, but he did more because she was not. While most people would have seen her inaction as an answer, she hoped the Ravenclaw would understand her trying to think and quickly. The new pressure in her head forcing her to close her eyes instinct told her to fight it as she fought everything, but truth be told... Maybe she didn't want to. “You have some honor in you somewhere. I just want my revenge and to help my friend. You must understand I only see you how you have portrayed yourself to me. If that is as a villain, it is only because I have seen you doing things I, at the time, would have never condoned. Santario shook her head gently whispering, "Help me, please." as she tilted her sharp sapphire eyes up to look into his. Trying to force herself to relax knowing that even if she had wanted to deny him entry into her mind it would have been easy for him take it anyway.
Since Santario did not know how this would work, she shoved three things to the forefront of her mind. Three distinct memories. The first: a view from a closet, the inability to move, the petrifying fear, the three’s faces, their laugher, crucio, and the screams. The second: Victor staring at her pointedly from the arena last summer while he spoke “Wonder why Gideon, Abbandon, and Loralei put so much down on you and why they want me to say that out loud?”, the fear but also deep-seated rage when the names were said. The Third: Bits and pieces of her and Thomas, his affliction, and her swearing on her life she would try to find a way to stop it and help him break free.
Healing Sage: +30% healing | Prodigal Charms | Impartial | Fearless
Stamina : 10 | Evasion : 7 | Strength : 3 | Wisdom : 12 | Arcane Power : 10 | Accuracy : 15
Stamina : 10 | Evasion : 7 | Strength : 3 | Wisdom : 12 | Arcane Power : 10 | Accuracy : 15
Blossom Ball - Spring Festival
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Her eyes, a shock of blue. He took a sharp breath, there was no pain but there was a stress that came with this 'gift.' She would feel the knocks, the rhythmic pulse of something that tried to enter her mind that when she made eye contact was released. It came with the sensation of being washed over by a wave of cold water. It was not powerful enough to send her falling back, but had she not been so certain she was standing on the grounds far from the lake on a day without rain, she would swear that she was laying on the rocky shore of the black lake.
Like pulling a quivering worm from flesh, thoughts could be extracted. They were delicate and they were living. They would struggle and they would stretch, like that stubborn form that tried to bury itself away only to be plucked and ultimately exposed.
He visibly paled. "A life defined by lies, I am by far not the greatest villain you have encountered. Minor comparatively," he mused. "I do know them personally, Gideon, Abbadon and Loralei that is," he admitted. Only by reputation. "But they..." he took a breath "were never there." Nobody was. He blinked away his own thoughts, clouding his mind and his reason. "They, those three, are well known in pureblood circles of ill-repute, assassins for hire. The rare sort that honestly enjoy their work but that does not mean that they are willing to work cheap." He swallowed but his throat was dry, it was painful to remember Victor's last day not that Santario likely fared better recalling her parents final moments from inside a closet. There was a sense of selfishness, a world and a perspective that only he could know. He would never miss Santario's parents in the way that he missed Victor even if he had the fleeting experience through the Slytherin's eyes.The first: a view from a closet, the inability to move, the petrifying fear, the three’s faces, their laugher, crucio, and the screams. The second: Victor staring at her pointedly from the arena last summer while he spoke “Wonder why Gideon, Abbandon, and Loralei put so much down on you and why they want me to say that out loud?”, the fear but also deep-seated rage when the names were said. The Third: Bits and pieces of her and Thomas, his affliction, and her swearing on her life she would try to find a way to stop it and help him break free.
"Victor--" his stomach was in knots, he did not want to damage the boy's memory. "Was changed by the incident last year at the Blossom Ball, he became bitter and I cannot claim I felt. Feel any different. Deals were made, he was given a task and he failed to procure the ingredients he required for a dark ritual you were almost a party to." He was not far, but he was not there despite Victor's promises. He was on his way, he would have been a willing participant. He shared in the bitterness that Victor was drowning in. In fact he encouraged it. Marion was mysteriously missing during the whole encounter, perhaps that was for the best, she lacked the brutal nature that was necessary for such things. Victor was almost whole, had they just bled enough.
His words would not answer her question, but his next statement would. "Victor is a liar," he asserted, not that is caused him to love (platonically) him any less.
How did he know their names? The names of the very three who killed a prominent pureblood pair, the parents of a member of his own house. Names and faces, identities that were easy to follow in the paper. At least that was the easiest means of acquiring this information, the seemingly mouse-like boy was perhaps as cunning as the sorting hat thought. Either that or it was Athanatos' fault, in truth he could not remember. Had he at some point pried, looked inside her head and took a stroll? There were so many, Marion and Victor were his confidants. There was nothing that they did not share, a thought of true hubris that could not be further from the truth. "I might have given him the names. I might have rooted in your head before," he admitted but his admission was not clear. Specked with possibly and probably, might and maybe - it was speculation but it was the best that he could provide. Yet he shook his head as he added, "but I cannot be sure."
As for the final memory, a familiar face of a boy he barely knew but had a gut instinct that he should never trust. Marion seemed infuriated by him but her sense for people could not be worse considering the company she had chosen to take with her to the ball. "Thomas is--- underwhelmingly average among Hogwarts students. He wants power and will do what he must to find such ends, he is hardly tethered in the deals he made in comparison to others. Be careful in his company, he is a liar in a room of liars. He covets the deals others have made." The answer she would not want to hear, she cared for Thomas. It was hard to find faults in those you cared for. It was hard to see the worst in someone when a decision to the contrary was already made.
He looked away, ending any link that they might have had. A pressure, a weight she would have hardly noticed until it was lifted would make her head feel light. Perhaps even a bit hollow. "But I would not trust me either I suppose, villains commonly lie." Returning them to the place where they had started, closing the band about their heart.
Aamon
Blossom Ball - Spring Festival
Desperation was a funny thing. It turned perceived enemies into temporary allies and opened doors one would never have thought were even there. Santario was so desperate to find some kind of information she had no real trouble letting him in. If there was a slight chance he knew something, then it was a risk worth taking.
Her eyes fell on his, winter colors were her favorites, but his eyes seemed as cold as the shiver that ran down her spine and the blood that seemed to turn to ice in her veins. It was like she was standing thigh-deep in the ocean on a cold autumn night while the waves crashed into her. Not just because of his abilities but because of what she was reliving and experiencing. She had to be cold and allow the numbness to take her because she would be lost to grief or rage if she did not. Her jaw clenched just as tight as her fists.
She was silent in this ordeal, allowing him to speak and take his time where he needed to. She knew he and Victor were close, and she did not wish the grief of loss on anyone. It could drive you insane; something, if someone took a really close hard look at the lithe girl, would see was not far from the truth. She was often blinded by her desire to get revenge, be better, stronger, faster, and never be prone to inaction again. She had not worked so hard to become one of the captains of the duelling team and a part of an undefeated team all year for nothing.
As their connection finally broke, Santario took a half-step backward away from him, a hand moving towards her head. If they had been anywhere else, she would have allowed herself to sit and ride out the lightheadedness, but she had to remember they were in full view of the public. So like a good little taught pureblood, she shoved it down and remained standing straight, her hand falling back to her side. After all, she had asked for this, and she did not want anyone thinking that he had harmed her. He had done nothing of the sort. “I am sorry for your loss.” She managed after a small moment. “I do not understand why he would do that to me. I was never associated with the people who hurt him. I wasn’t even close to the incident when it happened, but I don’t fault him for the actions he took against those who did hurt him.” Referencing the tragedy that befell the Slytherin boy during the last Blossom Ball. No, in fact, she was too busy getting stung through the chest by a mosp, a scar she still held, and falling from a broom.
She bit her lip, something she was prone to doing while trying to think and put things together that just did not make any sense. She had felt that Vladimir would be the key to it all, well maybe not all of it, but at least something. Something that would shine a light in the darkened room that she was in, trying to blindly find answers. But he was not. “You, me, we’re all villains to someone Vladimir.” A dry chuckle expressed with an exhale through her nose. “I am in your debt; I will not forget this.” She was defeated, and she was left feeling hollow, as if the last part of her heart had just broken to join its other shattered pieces within her chest cavity. “I truly apologize for coming at you the way that I have, and I hope you can find it somewhere to forgive me. If you cannot help me… I will stop wasting your time.” It was sincere because, in reality, what had he ever done to her? Besides the Slytherin fights, which he might not even have organized, probably nothing, even his own admission to maybe having gone through her head before, was not a clear yes. It seemed even he was unsure if that had happened.
She would wait for confirmation that they were done. Santario did not know what she planned to do next; as usual, it is not like she came here with anyone, so no one would miss her if she left. She could always participate in the trials, but those seemed like stupid games after all of this. Maybe it was time to take an evening sit by the lake, take it all in, and process… Being alone seemed better than being surrounded by a school's worth of people and still feeling alone.
Healing Sage: +30% healing | Prodigal Charms | Impartial | Fearless
Stamina : 10 | Evasion : 7 | Strength : 3 | Wisdom : 12 | Arcane Power : 10 | Accuracy : 15
Stamina : 10 | Evasion : 7 | Strength : 3 | Wisdom : 12 | Arcane Power : 10 | Accuracy : 15