Fall Ball 2021 Samhain Festival

For some reason, both Avery and Vale appeared to be amused by the whole 'misunderstanding'. Luckily, neither of them seemed to be making fun of her; which, she supposed, was a huge disappointment to Gray. She could barely hold her tongue when Avery tried to defend his dormmate by implying he lacked in wits. He was getting straight Os, for Merlin's sake! And she found it out. He was worried she'd tell people he wasn't as dull as he made himself out to be, and so he decided to strike. It was simple enough in her mind, but trying to explain it would take ages, and afterwards everyone would just think she was being silly. Especially if Gray put on one of his dumb expressions while she spoke.

''Don't let him fool you, Avery, he's smarter than he looks. Check his report card out when you have the time, it may surprise you,'' was all she said. It felt just so wrong to essentially compliment Gray after he humiliated her publicly. But that was the only ammunition she had against him. Showing the world that he faked being mediocre. Ugh, this enmity was going to be hellishly confusing.

Enrico seemed to be her best ally at the moment, throwing their conversation into a wild mess with every statement he uttered. She was disassociated enough from it all to just take his words about redheads and pumpkins in stride, without letting herself become baffled. No, her mind would be locked on the trick Gray pulled for most of the evening, likely. However, if Enrico could distract others enough so that they focused on his oddities, a lot of pressure would be taken off her self-consciousness.

''Thanks, Rico,'' she responded, a small part of her wondering whether this was the correct reaction to being likened to a pumpkin, and a huge part of her not caring at all. ''I think I saw someone handing out candy over there. A guy wearing a crown,'' she gestured vaguely in the general direction of where she'd last noticed @Gideon Athanatos. ''Anyway, did you end up getting sorted to Ravenclaw like you expected?'' Of course she knew he hadn't. There were too many people in the Sorting Ceremony for her to memorize, but she took note of where those she'd met were placed, and this boy was a Hufflepuff. Normally she wouldn't ask questions she already knew answers to. Now, however, she needed to keep the conversation heading away from her public shame. ''And while we're on that, I don't really think sugar resolves in water.'' He was top of his class, he said. Muggles weren't all that bright, then, were they?

''Oh yes, fairly sure some of us are destined to murder one another, Vale. Good call, let's go to the matchmaking booth.'' Hopefully, Gray wouldn't tag along. ''I think the booth was designed to be creepy. With weird dolls and all that. Might be a suitable place for you two,'' she addressed both Vale and Avery, with their doll-eye outfits.

''Agreed, Maggie. Boys aren't worth fighting over. Especially this boy,'' she nodded her head towards Gray. ''And I think the book will tell us that you're a much better match for me anyway.'' Not that she was really convinced the book truly worked. After all, it would require a truly powerful piece of magic to be able to determine the future of something as volatile as a relationship between two people. And it was really unlikely that such an artefact would be present at a school party. Still, it would be a good diversion. ''We should hurry up, too, before it starts raining in earnest,'' the girl called out over the rising howl of the wind, beginning to move towards the matchmaking booth which was a fair distance away. Hopefully they would get there before the weather got too hectic, and without being hit by any lightnings. Oh, what a dreadful day.

interaction status [Selectively Open to already Known Peoples.]
interactions @Willow Anderson
mentions Percival Grey, all

text colour #274E13

As the year slowly crawled forward closer towards the end, so did the countdown towards the annual Fall Ball, a truly excitable time that sent all attendees into a flurry with every theme announcement. Typically, Astrea felt it required to drift towards all the pomp and splendour of her life when it came to large annual events, but this month was shaping up to be quite different- after all, she was not planning on truly joining the ball but instead the festival, outdoors experiences undercut with the reminder of seasonal change.

Between the initial declaration of dates and the rapid reintegration into the school system, the October Ball came quicker than Astrea had been paying attention to, suddenly just beyond the entrance of the Samhain Festival with little recollection of the individual days between the past few weeks. In the face of such an excitable, if not stress-inducing, time, did it truly matter? Mere seconds after Astrea had swept into the area, the white flower wrapped about her wrist tilting slightly with the gravity of her motions, a familiar voice called out to her and she, as if made moth to flame, gravitated instinctually towards it. Ah, there the other was- Mother Earth's most darling creation: Willow Anderson. Smartly dressed and made all the more radiant by the rosy expression upon the blonde's face, Astrea felt as if the sun had taken a shine to her past the cast of night.

Scarcely able to greet her date past the comfortably swelling bubble of endearment, the gift offered to her carried such intentions so similar to her own it made all the sense in the world. So, from the beginning, they were to match. Touched, Astrea takes the proffered head ornament with the same solemn reverence one would reserve for a sacred artefact, unwilling to treat the sweet gesture lightly. "This looks wonderful, and as do you." Pressing a thankful kiss to the back of Willow's hand, she swapped the prettily wrought crown of cranberries in the other's hand with a pale gardenia, petals in full bloom and specifically conjured in anticipation of meeting the badger who had stolen her affections. What an occasion, this granting of gifts, this swapping of acknowledgements. "For you. May the night go in good order." Of this, she was doubtful, but one could hope.

It was this tentative hope that rode her through the initial stretch of time between her arrival and the onset of a greater attendance list than she had expected. But alas! It seemed Astrea was never meant to have any other type of time better than 'decent' for an extended period, as it was not long before the couple was approached and Willow drew away.

"Stay safe. Are you certain you do not require some support?" The tailing end of her question would be somewhat drowned by the movement of the crowd and the natural quiet quality of her voice, but the sentiment was clear nonetheless in the way she watched the other depart, outwardly unaffected except for the sharpness of her gaze, following the gasping figure of one of her fellow snakes and into the crowd out of view. A strange concern bubbled within her, a dread for what was to come from the soles of her shoes to the berries upon her headdress. With their previous experiences in mind, one could not shake off the feeling of unavoidable disaster looming over the castle's very grounds and Astrea found herself walking off toward a quieter corner of the area, very deliberately attempting to physically and emotionally distance herself from the crowdly chaos many others had been roped into.

She had more listened than watched the chaos unfold before her eyes from the peripheral, the exponentially increasing inevitability of danger, but had tried her hardest to avoid the epicentre of the storm in an attempt to enjoy the easy presence of existing with someone to whom she appreciated greatly. They had spent barely much time together by virtue of opposite interests and social circles, after all, and if it had not been Willow's enthusiasm over Hogwarts' celebration of a festival held in high spirits to the badger, Astrea would have much rather opted to stay relatively safe in the dorms. Now that her dear heart had ventured elsewhere, with the tentative promise to return, there was not much choice but to lie in wait.

Made as so often a silent spectre haunting the sidelines, she hoped Willow would stay as whole, hale and healthy as one could in such a situation, the sentiment carrying vaguely over to those her wonderful girlfriend held close -if only to avoid the inevitable emotional distress experienced when all was said and done that evening.

Action: Entering Festival, Lingering Around

Abilities: Terrible Presence, Lovely Creature, Spell Spread, Non-Human Enthusiast
Stats: Sta 8 | Eva 10 | Str 2 | Wis 11 | Arc 10 | Acc 11

Interacting with @Howard White & Hag Slug.
Mentioning: @Hugh Lowe, @Galton Lansdale, @Tyranni Whitethorn, @Jürgen Hess and @Erin Ryan

Serena lost track of what had happened with the boy who was trying to hurt Erin and Galton, though she just had to trust that he was handling it. She did not really have a chance to pay attention and figure out what happened or to check on Galton or Erin... Her attention was caught by the disgusting creature escaping from Erin's mouth. She had been expecting it, of course. This was why they were here.

But being prepared for it mentally and actually seeing it were two very different things. It moved much faster than any slug Serena had ever seen. But she had never seen a slug-like this. A larger than she expected, disgusting-looking monster. It was supposed to be a slug and it sort of looked like one but it was definitely not as cute as normal slugs. A part of her had expected thousands of tiny little slugs, made out of the darkness. This seemed to be different to the shadow creatures - still disgusting but she was partially relieved it was not entirely made out of the darkness. She had dealt with enough darkness for a lifetime and reliving that fear was not what she wanted to be doing now.

She could not move fast enough. Despite seeing it come out of Erin's mouth, seeing it so close to her, Serena somehow managed to move slower than the slug did. A hiss of pain escaped her clenched jaw as she felt it latch onto her. Staggering backwards from the sudden impact, Serena moved her wand. It stung and she instantly knew she was bleeding as it ripped into her skin. However, it could have been worse. Receiving plenty of iron bludgers had taught her that it could definitely have hurt more. The issue was not the pain she was feeling right now, it was the fact that it seemed to be stuck onto her. She had to get it off. But more than that, she had to destroy it.

The slug repel- damn. She have given her can to that girl who wanted to help, telling her to spray it on people. Serena needed another way to get it off but the pain surging through her body was making it hard to think or focus on anything else.

Wait - there was only one? That was not right. Surely...? They had been talking as though there would be multiple. It was why she expected lots of little slugs... Erin. Erin needed help. She had to get rid of this thing and force Erin to get any others out of her system...

This awful thing was inside Erin... Serena could not even begin to imagine the pain that the Slytherin must have been in, being eaten from the inside by it. Her attention was drawn to the slug the entire time. The sound of the storm echoed the beating of her heart and the dread within. She vaguely heard a familiar voice call her name too, though her brain seemed incapable of processing it right now. Panicked thoughts ran through her, as she was busy trying to figure out how to get the slug off her and away from everyone else. They had to destroy it - and quickly.

She groaned loudly, wincing at the pain. Staring into the slug's face, targeting her wand directly into it. At the very least, she was at a point-blank range... "Flipendo!" There were other, far better spells that she should have used. But her priority was simple. Try and force it off her whilst hopefully hurting it. She aimed down at the slug, trying to force it into the ground. Perhaps Hugh could ground pound the ugly thing then or just... stomp on it! It was also just the first spell she could think of in the moment's panic.

It took her a moment to realise who had called her name. Howard. Her heart pounded loudly. From the adrenaline, of course. Not because of who it was, of course not. That would be crazy. There were clearly more important things to be concerned about, after all. "Howard-" She whispered, ignoring the fact that her stomach instantly felt like it knotted. This was also not the right time to feel guilt but her next words would make her feel guilty, nonetheless, "Please- Erin. She needs- protecting- please," She practically begged him. It was not something she wanted to do. She knew how he felt about the darkness within and how protecting people could lead to chaos for him. But she did not have a choice. Erin needed help. If hag slugs were not enough, people were literally trying to kill her on top of that. She did not want to ask Howard to brutally murder anything, even if it was a slug but... that was not a choice she had.

Pizza Rat was not having the best of luck trying to help. But he was a tiny little rat who was not an expert in fighting by any means. The little guy would do his best to save his best friend in the whole world - or perhaps his only friend. Man, he really needed more friends. Either way, Pizza did what he was here to do. He attempted to bite the slug - though, it was definitely not the same as the slugs he was trained to bite. Nonetheless, he braved himself to attack.

SERENA'S ACTION: Casting Flipendo on the Hag Slug
Pizza Rat's Action: Bite Hag Slug

Stamina: 10 | Evasion: 13 | Strength: 1 | Wisdom: 15 | Arcane Power: 5 | Accuracy: 10
Abilities: Part-Goblin, Evasive Maneuvers, Beastmaster
Fifth-Year Armour: +10% auto-dodge on attacks [=20% auto-dodge overall]

Pizza Rat 200/200 Health
Can bite a target, inflicting them with 25 damage and a diseases status -1 evasion (stacks up to 3 times) on a single target per attack.

Trunk Items: Wand, Invisibility Cloak, Magical Candle (unlit), Repellent for Slugs (forgot I gave this to Tyranni a few rounds ago. Haven't used it since anyway)
Other Items: Gideon's Sugar-free Candy (acquired here)

Outfit of the Day (with winged boots and wristguard wand holder)

Spectacular Banner by Leonard Oaksworth

Interacting With: @Levi Drakos

Mentioning: @Evelynn Decipio

♦♢♦

Marshal stalked into the area. Upon doing so, he saw one thing: people. People here, people there, people with dancing shoes and pretty hair. And normally, that would be a fact that tickled his fancy rather avidly, save for the torturous fact that every flash of auburn set his heart to ice. Every happy couple added weight to the iron soles that dragged across the ground with the sluggish movements of his feet. Every pair of upturned lips amplified the downturned nature of his own.

Hunched shoulders replaced those that swung with confident swagger, and haze fogged the normally clear lenses through which he viewed the world. Sun rays were tainted by drops of rain, and no rainbow lay in sight. His pot of gold had been stolen, and yes, the person responsible was rather short.
Short in height, short in morals, and short on life - if he had anything to say about it.

His stolen treasure did not truly belong to him, of course. No mere pile of coins to be pocketed and saved for a later date, her luster far outshined that of any gold piece. Priceless was her label, and unattainable was her persuasion. She who slapped reaching hands angled for her heart, and who mercilessly flaunted her invaluable traits to the world, if without flamboyant intent.

People. More people. Endless subject matter that pressed in on his vision, and prompted him to hug the wall. No longer were they individuals who offered unique opportunities for acquaintance. Rather, each face was just another image that wasn't her. Or him.

By all logical senses, a dejected fool such as this hollowed-out shell of Marshal Mozor should have stayed far away from the ball; remained within his dorm, and within himself. Lamentations of the heart were never tastefully released in public, as evidenced by the dark cloud which hovered above his drooping head, surely invading the personal bubbles of all those near to him. Yet, personal searches for solace would have to wait. His emotions would be tossed aside like trash, deemed unimportant in favor of those much more precious.
Evelynn was undoubtedly capable of slapping reaching hands away, but some fingers were so grimy, so impure that they should never be touched by a being such as her, even for one rebuking moment. No; sometimes a pair of hands required prior cleansing, and if that cleansing called for purifying fire, then he would gladly provide the flames.

Gaze guided by purpose, Marshal surveyed the crowd, every one of those people fading to insignificance as he moved on to the next set of identifying features. Eyelids draping over his irises like curtains, the darkened set of his face grew that much deeper as he squinted in concentration.
Finally, another glimpse of red captured his attention, and stoppered the beat of his heart. One step closer offered further detail, then two, then five as he practically stumbled in that direction. She was the right height, and the figure veiled underneath that dress rang with familiarity. But a glimpse at her face presented no clarification as to her true identity, for the testimony of her features was cut off by the mask which covered them.
A glance at her companion would then follow. He would recognize the rat's features anywhere, fake though their charming visage was.

One slight turn of the boy's head - topped by a hat nearly as tall as his form - deepened the shadows behind Marshal's hazel eyes, the dark nimbus of his presence flaring wildly as fingernails dug into his palms. One violent breath followed another, nostrils flaring to complete the distinct appearance of a bull raring to charge. But the red of Evelynn's hair was not his target; in fact, her proximity to the boy was the only thing that prevented an immediate attack.
He had no intention of dragging Eve into unneeded drama and stress; not like last time. So far as he knew, she was blissfully unaware of what he had learned about Levi's true character, and it would stay that way. As much as it pained him to see his treasured one with another, he refused to ruin anything that might lend her some ounce of joy. She had accepted Levi's invitation, so perhaps she enjoyed his presence.
All Marshal wanted was to prevent the kind of fate that Winnie had suffered at those sullied hands. And that was something best accomplished one-on-one.

Fortunately - for him, at least - a commotion had erupted nearby. A fight of some sort. Possibly someone murdering someone else for attempting to hurt one they cared for. Well, more power to them.
Of course Evelynn threw her own doings aside for the sake of putting a stop to it. She was a prefect, and she was Evelynn. Anyone to step out of line near her may as well throw themselves into the lake.

The sight of Levi being abandoned brought some sort of dark satisfaction to the Gryffindor's brow. But it was short-lived, for he finally spotted the opening he needed.
A glint of almost manic fervor originated in his eyes before carrying throughout his entire countenance, as he approached the dapper demon from behind.
"A word, if you wouldn't mind," he rasped darkly, reaching for Levi's shoulder in an attempt to swing the boy around with a vice grip. As quickly as his quarry turned, he would release his hold, moving one step closer than personal space demanded. Hazel eyes would meet hazel eyes, one pair tinged with an unspoken threat. To verbalize as much was certainly overkill, but then, Marshal never had been one for subtlety.
"Evelynn really is a saint. Evidently, she thinks she can exorcise the demons in your soul. But somehow I don't believe she'll have to." He enjoyed only a few inches of height over the boy, yet made the most of every last one, face hovering menacingly above Levi's own. Though a moment more saw him lean back slightly, voice lowering to a dangerous calm. "I know what you did to Winnie. And it's not going to happen again." A pause, a quiet huff of morbid amusement, and a slight quirk of his lips toward the heavens preceded his final words. "You look at either of them the wrong way again, and you'll forget why it was all worth it. But you're a standup guy, right? I'm sure you'll treat Evelynn better than you treated Winnie."

The commotion of the more prominent fight would likely be enough to divert the attention of most from the friendly little chat. But, frankly, if anyone did happen to notice, Marshal couldn't care less.

♦♢♦

Action: Entering the area. Confronting the dapper demon.

Ari was terrible with interacting with girls, let alone pretty ones named Juniper. His mind was quickly averted from his romantic situation, though, as turned and looked on as the tent collapsed in a mess of metal and fabric. How did the night go from meeting an old friend, to meeting a beautiful girl, to watching people attempt to kill each other? It was almost too much for his mind to handle.
Then, the rain came. Clouds rolled over the skies, and large drops of water began to fall from the black heavens, making the bonfire steam with each cold tear. As if things couldn't get much worse...
"The tent fell over!" Juniper yelled as she grabbed his arm, pointing to the ruins of the tent. "We have to try and help the people in there!"
What are you doing, Ari? Snap out of it!
He hadn't even told her his name, but she was desperate to have him help her. If she was turning to strangers now, she was clearly set on saving those students under the tent. That was inspiring. Not that he didn't want to help them, but rather he was just stunned at all of the factors playing into the moment.
He took a deep breath and allowed his mind to slow down, rendering him able to form a plan quickly.
"Okay, Juni. First, my name is Arissen, but please call me Ari. I hate being called my full name by anyone other than family," he stated first. "Now, if we're gonna help those kids, I think we should focus on getting the tarp off first, then, focus on the poles. The tarp is the biggest and messiest part, and it gets in the way. Students are gonna suffocate, so let's give them some air."
Was this plan going to work? There was only one way to find out. He gently squeezed Juniper's hand and walked over to the tent, his eyes scanning for either a corner or a flap to the entrance. If he could find one of these, he could remove the tent in a cleaner way. It would prevent tangling.
"Juni! Lin! See if you can find a corner or one of the entrance flaps. If you do, lift it up high so I can see it. That'll help us find the other corners. Then, we'll pick up the corners and raise the tent like a mushroom over the area," he explained. Where were these ideas coming from? Ari was never this good at on the spot problem solving. Well, it was a nice feature to add to his future resume now.

OPEN TO INTERACTION

───Interactions─── Reducio @Nichlas Forsberg

NORWEGIAN | SWEDISH RUSSIAN | GERMAN | ENGLISH

────Mentions──── Reducio Ella Forsberg Hanzo Fransson

When Greta had first arrived at Hogwarts again this Fall in anticipation of the events to come, the ball was all she could think about. The last one had been a great deal of fun, but had left her feeling somewhat forgotten in the wake of Ella and her date. This time, Ella had been forced to remain behind, and Greta had been forced to take another step embarking on the adventure of her own independence. It was hardly what the girl had hoped for, but she was determined to make the most of it. Especially given that even Hanzo wouldn't be making an appearance to spoil her fun.

What she had not accounted for, was that Nichlas Forsberg would actually ask her to the ball. Her. Greta. To the ball. Of his own initiative. It was entirely swoon-worthy and every time she thought back to that moment in the courtyard, her knees grew weak and butterflies tickled her core. Granted, it wasn't as though this was entirely unusual. He had, after all, accompanied her to the last one as well. But unlike this time, that had been her idea. Not only that, but she had convinced him to attend on the premise of acting as a sort of chaperone to Greta as well as his own sister, Ella. She had been guiltily pleased by the outcome, but she could hardly place any stock into it. As much as she might have liked to.

But this time... this time... It was completely and entirely different. There was no question about it, no way to beat around the bush or paint it as anything other than what it was. She was his date. And he'd been the one to seek her out. He liked her. It was this fluttery notion that had kept her dancing on cloud nine, floating almost absently through the Hogwarts halls for the rest of the week as the ball approached. She could hardly even remember anything significant that had transpired during that time, so impacted as she was by the fancy that had taken hold. Unfortunately, what went up must always come down, and it did so at the most inconvenient of times.

On the night of the ball, nothing seemed to go right. Her hair was a tangled monster that seemed to have a will of its own. No brush nor oil could seem to tame it. All she wanted to do was to put it up prettily like all the other girls had done. She'd even gone so far as to enchant it with her wand. Which had worked, for a time, until her hair would spill out and cascade in a mop around her shoulders and down her back all over again. Then there was her face. Perhaps it was the food at Hogwarts, or the humidity. Maybe stress had finally gotten to her. Regardless the reason, there were spots! Blemishes had never been something she'd had to deal with in the past, but for some reason, the world had decided that today would be the perfect day for her to awake into the progression of puberty.

Next, add her misplacement of her shoes, accidentally messing up what little touches of make-up she had tried to apply to make herself more grown-up and pretty, an inopportune moment of anxiety worrying whether she was being set up and this was all an elaborate plan by Ella or Hanzo or something to get back at her for something and that Nichlas didn't actually have any intention of going to the ball with her, and a series of other unfortunate events... it was no wonder that Greta was left hyperventilating and on the verge of a mental collapse of hysteria as she raced to meet up with Nichlas.....

***

The festival reared its colourful decor before them and they crossed the threshold into a fantasy garden of vibrant flowers, large toadstools, and leaves that crackled merrily underfoot. It should have captivated fancy and ensnared the imagination of any who gazed upon it. In any other situation, Greta would have happily skipped through such a fantasy garden with carefree bouyancy and a gleeful smile. Instead, her attention dipped and darted. From her feet below her, to the boy beside her, to the one hand that plucked at the ruching of her sleeves and the other that clutched to her daisy pendant like a lifeline.

"I'm sorry," she murmured for the millionth time. "I'm so sorry. It was so s-silly of me. I can't believe I t-tripped... I was so late and didn't I didn't see it, and then the ground just c-came up and all I heard was a tear and I don't even know what I caught it on and it was bad enough that I'd already m-made you wait but then to show up like that and you didn't have to do anything, you really didn't you could have just g-gone on without me, really, I wouldn't have m-minded, I'd have understood. I can't believe how long you had to wait, I'm so sorry. But then to go out of your way to help me. You f-fixed it. And so effortlessly. Honestly, I think you even made it better than it was, I don't remember this lacing being here like this, and I think there was a tear in the skirt b-before, but that's gone too...."

It hadn't stopped. Not really. Ever since the tumble and fall Greta had sustained on the way to meeting up with Nichlas, the faucet of her stammering sentiments had been on full blast. Instead of the dainty little princess and belle of the ball that she'd hoped to present herself as to Nichlas, she had arrived looking more like Cinderella after the clock had struck midnight. Her dress was torn, her outfit covered in dirt. Hair had been askew, make-up smeared by the palms that had wiped away the tears of frustrated embarrassment, buckle of her shoe snapped, and her nerves completely frayed. She'd expected him to cast her with one look and reconsider everything. But he hadn't. And no amount of apology or appreciation would ever be enough.

────────────────────────────

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[font=century gothic]ACTION — Entering Samhain Festival w/ Nichlas Forsberg, stammering a ceaseless string of anxious apologies to her date[/font]

Stats & Abilities Reducio STA | 4‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ STR | 1‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ EVA | 12 WIS | 10‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎ ARC | 10‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎ ACC | 12 CALMING PRESENCE — Allies gain a 10% chance to auto-hit their chosen target. 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). SPELL SPREAD — You can elect to reduce the accuracy of your spell by -2, increase the DC by 2 and the critical failure range by +1 to target a second user with your spell.

───Health─── 400 / 400

Allies (CP) Reducio — Nichlas Forsberg — Theodore Duncain — Aaron Jones — Durmstrang students

Matt Gray, smarter than he looks? Avery gave Liana a look of disbelief as she recommended that he check Gray's report card one day. Really? The boy who does nothing but snooze and basically knocked himself out of their first Wargames duel? Not that Avery had anything against the boy -- his dormmate was great fun -- but he really didn't think that Matt Gray was too bright or cared enough about anything to put in an ounce of effort.

Avery's thoughts about Matt Gray were disrupted by Vale's observation that ghosts don't eat food because they liked the smell of trash. Was that why Enrico was wearing a used Kleenex?

However, before he could voice anything about that -- thankfully -- Vale suggested that they check out the Matchmaking Booth. Avery's eyes lit up at the mention of the activity. He'd made some effort to help set that up, after all. "Oh yeah, let's go check it out! It'll be awesome. You'll be so impressed, I swear!" he effused, ready to drag his friends there if they were too slow to walk. Would he and Vale have an epic chemistry, like Maggie suggested? He laughed at the thought, wondering what the book had to say about him and all his friends.

"Enrico, you gotta see this! It'll blow your ghost brains out. You're coming with us, whether you like it or not!" He grabbed the boy by the shoulder in an attempt to steer him along with their group towards the booth. The more, the merrier! Avery wanted everyone to see the Matchmaking Tent, whether or not they knew what they were getting themselves into. They had the Matchmaking Tome for one night only, so they might as well make good use of it.

Tonight would be a night of exposed future treachery, of epic romances, and legendary fun.

Crashing down, onto the ground. The unyielding earth would strike the back of her head, leaving her seeing stars. Flashes of bright, hot white lights that invaded her vision like a swarm of shining flies. Mute, her jaw clenched to the roof of her mouth and her limbs bound tightly to her sides. She was immobilized in the midst of a melee. There is a certain level of terror that comes from vulnerability, from being bound. They wanted to kill her, it was more than the paranoid itch in the back of her head. The wands, lethal weapons in the skilled, the careless, the incompetent and the violent.

She tried to break free of the unseen fetters. To wrestle the arcane hole with brute strength which ha served her well to date. It was an exercise in futility, her body failed to comply. Paralyzed in this nightmarish state, she would only see the evening sky and a mouse's vantage point her peers, her housemates and... her cousin? Yes, Jürgen Hess was her second or maybe it was third, she hardly cared to pay attention, cousin. Like all purebloods for the most part, they were distantly related via her father who was cousins with Jürgen's paternal line. Not particularly close, the line was rather shuttered to 'outsiders' meaning those not necessarily of the wrong blood but a weaker manifestation. They prided themselves on their psychic capacity and sought to preserve the reddest of blood for themselves. Yes, he was a condescending, closed off, arse and that was her distant assessment having only barely heard of him and his ilk.

Little did she know he really wanted her dead. A turn of phrase like 'hate' or 'love', a stated intent to kill escapes so easily from parted lips but rarely holds any weight. An utter and complete lack of gravity. Yet his words rang true and he would come for her, pathetic knife drawn. Her pupils would dilate, the fear an the adrenaline urging her to move with a body that refused to comply. Powerless, time would slow. Far from a kindness as she heard her heartbeat in her ears.

Boom-Boom-Boom.

A deafening roar, the beat of an internal drum that drowned out all of the noise. Hess lunged and someone else, Galton perhaps, got in the blade's path. A flash of red, a sick relief as he was sliced rather than her. Or so she thought as time returned to its normal pace in time for the knife to immediately plunge into her shoulder. A shock of pain, dull steel nicking bone and ripping through flesh. The instinct was to scream but she could not. Blood would seep around the edges of the worn blade, the less than kind cutting tool and start to soak the plaid shirt she wore like a dress.

Slugus Eructo, a word of power, a terrible and effective charm. Her captors forgot to consider the fact that Erin was still bound, her mouth was clenched shut. Not that such would negate the spell as a wave of nausea would overcome her. The intense, primal need to sit up, to keep her airway clear but she could not. Stiff as a board, trapped on the ground. The slug would be pulled to her throat, filling her airway. She could not breathe, her face turning red. No a purplish color. Mucus and gastric fluids collesasing with the pooled saliva and the firm, far too large presence of a slug.

It was not through her mouth that the slug would emerge, it could not. It was trapped, or so it was until enough pressure had built behind the air-starved teen experiencing the worst possible Sweet Sixteen to date. It would breech her sinus along with additional, other fluids. Uncomfortably large, too large to be passing through anyone's sinus. It was one of the smaller slugs, it had to be, otherwise the girl would not have been able to breath still.

The dark and wiggling creature would slither away, with the speed and the terrible grace of a serpent rather than a slug. Bloodied and covered still in mucus, both her own as well as the evacuated slug. First of three...

Well, either that or as the mod claimed 'ripped from Erin's throat' being a bloodier and by far more terrible visual. A ruptured esophagus being but one concern at this time. What a terrible time for Jack to see her. She could not turn away, reject him, try to even explain. It was hard to even focus through the pain, the air hunger, the nausea. Jack was begging for something but he hardly understood what was happening. He never knew her, and she never knew him, They were strangers, a pairing based on a cruel lie. Her sentiments, while intense and arguably real were experienced, burned into her memory and soul, she only felt them then because of these worms. Because of that charm. Because of the changes she sought. The changes that those wretched hags had wrought.

In these final moments she was well aware of this. That there was no love, it was not real. There was nothing between them and that this was probably how she was going to die.



Not that she could say a word when the spell broke, when her arms could move and her body would yield to her command. When she could try to sit, if she could overcome the weight of Jack's embrace and gasp for air. Sucking in with deep, painful wheezes what air she could if on her back or a tripod pose. Her intense air-hunger leaving her devoid of reason, just searing hot pain. Just panic and dread.

A gurgling rumble as her breath would not last. As something else would come wiggling, crawling, forcibly expelled be it from a torn neck or now a gasping, gaping maw. Either, another slug would perhaps be expelled. She would do what any logical creature would - blindly strike out (moderator choice).

A storm was also coming, ripping winds howling, the battering of rain on a tent (did this land on me?) An icy chill, an unseasonable storm. A shudder from the cold, the least of her concerns. She was getting dizzy from her injuries. She could not escape them all, she could only go down with a fight.

Action: Punch, random target per moderator choice.
Status: Under the influence of Mimblewimble (Henry) and Slug Vomiting Charm (Serena). Being hugged (grapplied?) by Jack. Bleeding from a knife wound. Unknown method of escape for previous slug. (Do I have teeth? A neck? Did it escape from my nare as one of the smaller ones? Am I trapped under a fallen tent?)
Inventory: Wand, a neat piece of wood she found.
Attire: Dress, barefoot, hair as pictured above.
Interacts with: @Jack Burnett, .
Mentions: Hags, @Henry Knight, @Serena Towers, @Galton Lansdale, and Jurgen Hess,

Note: Becomes a hag at the stroke of midnight (this is defined by the moderators of this thread).