15 Jun 2020, 11:32
What is the First Rule...
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 SeilunWas Interacting: @Percival RainwoodIs Interacting: @Margo WhiteAction : sharing information on Rainwood to teammate 15S t a m i n a : 4S t r e n g t h : 3
15 Jun 2020, 11:58
What is the First Rule...
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?"
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
Last edited by Dan Palmer on 18 Jun 2020, 09:23, edited 1 time in total.
15 Jun 2020, 17:24
What is the First Rule...
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.
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.”
@Astrea Soleil Neptune
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
Last edited by Thomas Lestrange on 16 Jun 2020, 17:04, edited 4 times in total.
We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be
Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 7 | Wisdom: 8 | ArcPower: 3 | Accuracy: 7
Ability - Evasive Maneuvers 2x
15 Jun 2020, 18:38
What is the First Rule...
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.Interacting| @Thomas Lestrange
“Don’t suppose you’re here to take pictures this time?”
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.
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
15 Jun 2020, 19:04
What is the First Rule...
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
You're gonna need a bigger boat
15 Jun 2020, 19:59
What is the First Rule...
Percival Rainwood, Wyatt’s dormmate, had walked up to 14.
They exchanged a few words, then Rainwood sat and took his shoes and socks off. Wyatt just had to roll his eyes, conforming already?
The boy remembered the promise he made to himself, that he would walk over to 14 when someone else did. He sighed and started making his way to the duo.
When he got there, he looked down at Rainwood, and muttered a small, “hello.” They weren’t exactly on good terms (since half of the dorm listened in on Percival confessing his undying love to the bathroom mirror, Wyatt included) but they weren’t on bad terms either. They were just… on terms.
Wyatt looked up to face 14.
“I’m Wyatt. Though, these people would call me 12,” he said, gesturing toward the crowd.
He was really hoping to get a name from 14. Wyatt didn’t like being reduced to 12, so he imagined this boy wasn’t a fan of 14 either. Though, the boy didn’t seem nearly as scared as he should be. He’d ripped off the shirt the second it was asked of him. Did he think this was some sort of game?
Wyatt felt dizzy. Maybe it was just that there wasn’t much fresh air in the dirty basement, but it was more likely the dizziness came from the fact he was being forced to fight his peers.
Interacting with: @Percival Rainwood and @Emmanuel Min Requiza
Team 1: @Ileen Knight and @Selim Faust (including ^ )
They exchanged a few words, then Rainwood sat and took his shoes and socks off. Wyatt just had to roll his eyes, conforming already?
The boy remembered the promise he made to himself, that he would walk over to 14 when someone else did. He sighed and started making his way to the duo.
When he got there, he looked down at Rainwood, and muttered a small, “hello.” They weren’t exactly on good terms (since half of the dorm listened in on Percival confessing his undying love to the bathroom mirror, Wyatt included) but they weren’t on bad terms either. They were just… on terms.
Wyatt looked up to face 14.
“I’m Wyatt. Though, these people would call me 12,” he said, gesturing toward the crowd.
He was really hoping to get a name from 14. Wyatt didn’t like being reduced to 12, so he imagined this boy wasn’t a fan of 14 either. Though, the boy didn’t seem nearly as scared as he should be. He’d ripped off the shirt the second it was asked of him. Did he think this was some sort of game?
Wyatt felt dizzy. Maybe it was just that there wasn’t much fresh air in the dirty basement, but it was more likely the dizziness came from the fact he was being forced to fight his peers.
Interacting with: @Percival Rainwood and @Emmanuel Min Requiza
Team 1: @Ileen Knight and @Selim Faust (including ^ )
| “If you ever need anything please don't hesitate to ask someone else first.” - Kurt Cobain. |
Sta: 15 | Eva: 20 | Str: 6 | Wis: 9 | Arc: 9 | Acc: 11 Parselmouth | Prodigal DADA | Fearless | Muggle Condition |
15 Jun 2020, 21:38
What is the First Rule...
Interacting with @Caelan Stewart, @Dan Palmer, @Margo White, and @Hanako Tone
As good of an idea it was to focus on not puking, Bridget knew she couldn't just stand there trying not to be sick. Plus, focusing on her knotted stomach and rising panic wasn't really going to help. So she started by going over what she knew. She was on a team with 10, 27, 29, and 15, not that she had any idea who those numbers belonged to. All she knew was that Thora was 34, so not on her team, but luckily not fighting her in this first round. No, she was fighting 18, 26, 8, 12, and 14. Remembering all the numbers was giving her a headache and making it difficult to concentrate on anything but repeating the sequences over and over.
Well, finding her team before she forgot the numbers seemed like a good start. The only good thing about the brands were their consistent location--all she had to do was spy the numbers on people's right upper arms. Of course, the fact some brands were covered by sleeves made the process harder. Finally, she spotted a black 27 on the arm of her shirtless Quidditch Captain. So Dan was on her team. Then her hazel eyes landed on a 15 belonging to a girl whose name she believed was Margo. She couldn't profess to have ever properly met her, but considering they were in the same House and year, of course she recognized her. With her was another boy, a first year, with the number 10. Another teammate, this one a boy she'd hit in the face during the Slytherin pillow fight. Now was not the time for any petty grudge he could possibly be holding. No, right now they had to work together if they wanted to survive this fight.
Where was 29? After another few moments of raking her gaze over all her numbered housemates, she finally caught sight of her last team member. Bridget didn't recognize him, but he seemed to be more or less lost, or at least not having yet found his team, so she walked over to him. "I'm on your team." She gestured to the number 5 on her arm--she didn't have any sleeves to cover it, but she supposed it would be harder to make out anyways because of the blackened veins running behind it. "Come on, I found the rest of our team." She said it all without expression, the only way she could hide her mounting panic. Assuming her would follow her, she wove through her other housemates, careful not to meet any of their eyes. How could she meet their eyes if she was about to fight them?
Arriving where Dan, Margo, and the other boy were gathered, she offered a quick, very strained smile. "We're the rest of the team. I'm Bridget," she added for the sake of the the first years she didn't know. Now what? Did they start forming a plan? Was that even smart when surrounded by all the other teams? And besides, how could you strategize when you didn't know what you were up against?
For the time being, sizing up her own team seemed like a good idea. Even though she couldn't be entirely sure, since someone could be stronger than they looked, none of her teammates struck her as very strong. Definitely not Erin Ryan level, not even close. They'd have to use something else to their advantage, since pure brawn was not going to cut it. Well, for starters... "Does anyone have any intel on group 1? I'd rather not go into a fight without knowing anything about my opponent." Sure, it was a fist fight, which didn't leave much room for brain power, but what else 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
Phylicia Stanwood (iNPC) • Aislin Darragh (2nd gen) • Alejandros Espinosa (2nd gen iNPC)
15 Jun 2020, 22:04
What is the First Rule...
Wearing:Reducio
Neither the voice from the young man with the blackened mark nor the voice spoken in his own head went unnoticed by Jack, but he could hardly allow himself to linger. Not when there were so many other people in line. He briefly cast Victor a look of utter horror and concern at the evidence that the person he knew was in there somewhere, but by then he was already being made to move along.
He wanted to say something to the older boy, anything, but before he could, Jack was shocked into silence by the words spoken not in his ear, but directly into his consciousness. Despite that, the voice seemed somewhat familiar; not as much as Victor's, but enough that Jack knew he must have heard it before - outside his head.
I wish I could say the same, semi-familiar voice in my head, he thought back at the speaker, unsure if they would be able to hear him or not. Still, he didn't figure it would hurt to try. He would have to tell someone about this...but later. He didn't want to alarm anyone else more than necessary just then. Thus, he continued on as if nothing any less ordinary had happened during his ticket-burning than had for anyone else.
When Opeila told Jack that she was trying to exercise optimism by trying to avoid expecting the worst, he clicked his tongue at her and shook his head pityingly.
"I'm pretty sure it's said that the best thing to be done in these situations is to hope for the best, but still expect the worst," he informed her. "That way you can prepare for it even if it doesn't happen."
He could have poked at the fact that her party forced out many other Slytherins who hadn't wanted or meant to attend, such as himself and Thomas, but decided to lay off the girl for the time being. There were enough other people talking to her anyway and she probably hadn't been looking to start an argument; even a playful one. For once, neither was he. It wasn't as though it mattered now anyway since the party had been in the past - at least so long as she didn't try such a thing again, which he trusted she wouldn't.
"You're probably right about the teachers..." he murmured, not having considered the aspect until Opeila had brought it up. "I guess...I'd just thought they might have had something to do with it because I don't know who else might have been able to slip us these invitations. I had mine in my hand when I woke on the last day of school. But...that mark on the invite. Didn't it look like the one Collins said Larkston and LeStrange saw on Marion? The mark looking like an eye that we thought might have been a Binding Mark for Marion and Victor? And then there was a mention of a spider..." Jack looked from Opeila to Flash, as they had been present at the meeting Opeila had called one night prior to the Blossom Ball. What had it said on the invitation again?"'Know us by the mark on our tent. The Cursed, the Eye, and the Spider.' You guys thinking these people are the ones I'm thinking they are...?" He nodded back toward the ticket-taker.
Victor had once told Jack had been cursed - cursed before the spider attack in the Slytherin Common Room. Was he 'the Cursed' of the trio, then? That left Marion and Vlad as the Eye and the Spider...but who was who? Just because Marion had been seen with the eye-like mark on her didn't mean the others didn't have it somewhere on them as well, so that alone wouldn't have been able to identify her as 'the Eye'.
Given that Marion and Victor had fled from the spiders, however, it could have either meant that neither had caused them, as Victor had claimed, and it was Vladimir's doing, or that either Marion or Victor had only pretended to fear the spiders and had perhaps been controlling them from their dorm rooms.
Well, again, it seemed somewhat pointless to dwell so deeply on such details of the past. What mattered was how they related to the present and that was still pretty vague. There wasn't near enough to go off of still.
"Kind of strange how these numbers seem to be acting a lot like Binding Marks when the invitation with what we suspected was a Binding Mark was what brought us here." Come to think of it...was there something in the way of willingly handing over the invitation with the mark that allowed them to be branded in the fashion they had? Perhaps it was a subclass of Binding Mark magic or something similar that he had yet to learn about.
When Opeila responded to Jack's comment on how the ticket-admitter looked familiar, he was glad that she had confirmed he wasn't the only one who thought so. However, when she mentioned that she wouldn't 'pull his attention to him specifically if she were him', Jack gave her a wry little smile.
"Too late," he told her in quieter, softer tones. "He already called to me by name before he took my ticket."
It would have been nice to try to stay together as Opeila had suggested, but Jack doubted they would be allowed to do such a thing. Still, he said nothing, not wanting to dash her hopes any more than he already might have. If Victor made Opeila 'feel weird', then his connection to Jack was likely to make her feel weird about Jack, too. Which was fine; he was used to it. At least she had Flash to cling to if she needed comfort.
The brunet smiled sweetly as he offered his housemate more reassurances and Jack had to look away again. He didn't bother responding when Flash asked if they should go and see the ring, presuming he had mostly been asking the question of Opeila, anyway.
Percival also seemed to try to keep up a cheerful demeanor, teasing the nervous brunette and poking some fun at Selim. Jack smirked appreciatively at him, but was too swarmed with thoughts about the mysteries assailing them one after the other to respond.
It wasn't until a complete stranger around their age came up to them and introduced himself as Calvon that Jack was able to properly re-focus his attention. The kid seemed as clueless as they were and somehow thought they might have been able to help him out. How many non-Slytherins were around, anyway? There had been at least one girl Jack had been able to identify as a Ravenclaw due to having met her at an errand with Professor Jensen before. Was this new kid another 'outsider' of sorts?
Snorting, he shook his head. "We seem 'more familiar' with this whole thing? I'm not even sure what 'this whole thing' consists of. Sorry, but I'm pretty sure we're just as clueless as you are."
"What's your last name?" Jack asked the black-haired kid. "Do you go to Hogwarts? That where you got your invitation?"
When Adonis commented on his being pureblooded having nothing to do with this, the redhead shrugged. "Hey, for all I know, this could be a regular thing wizards do. Or maybe even just purebloods. I'm just a mudblood, remember? I'm not familiar with all your usual traditions and culture. Except for what we've gone over in school, anyway. I just thought it was better to be safe and check than be sorry."
While the others were busy talking among themselves, Jack moved a little further from the others, trying to get a read on more of the people entered in the tournament outside of their dorm group. Thomas was there and while the redhead had half a mind to try to talk to him, he seemed occupied attempting to converse with the shy, withdrawn Nico. Appreciating that about the held-back Slytherin, the redhead decided to leave the two of them alone for the time being.
Erik was, as usual, loudly chatting up some girls, one of whom was the Ravenclaw Jack recognized. He kept an eye and ear out for their conversation, but also left them largely undisturbed.
Instead, Jack's thoughts turned to Victor. Those eyes were green and Victor's had been blue, but...maybe it was just his face that belonged to the third year Slytherin? What had happened to him at St. Mungo's after the ball? He thought they were supposed to make him better, not...not whatever this was! Was he even still completely himself? At the very least, he seemed to be being controlled. But how? Why? By whom? Vlad? More likely than Marion, he thought...
If only Ruka had been there. But no, Jack wouldn't have wanted to involve Ruka in such a sketchy, dangerous situation as this. Still, it would have been nice to talk to someone who he knew would listen and be able to think all of this through with him sans the emotions that muddled his logical thinking.
He supposed there was Flash, but Flash was occupied with tending to Opeila. Would he really want to be bothered by things like voices in Jack's head? And what about Selim? The redhead doubted the noiret would care too much. It wasn't as though they could really investigate it.
Just as both Selim and he noticed Victor walking forward and speaking, they exchanged a single look briefly after before watching the others start to follow the older boy. Victor opened a trap door to lead them down some steps into what was presumably the basement where the ring was.
Jack glanced at Selim with concern, barely able to imagine what the other boy must have been feeling right then. His paranoia must have been kicked into full gear with how shady everything seemed to be regarding the people involved and their strange circumstances.
"...Fangs?" he said gently, making a move to go first. "You...gonna be okay if we go down? Or...would you rather stay up here?"
Without a word, the Japanese boy seemed to make up his mind, eventually following after the rest of them, but with obvious reluctance. Jack could understand that, at least. Anyone with half a mind for self-preservation would have stopped at the part where they'd gotten a brand on their arm. As cautious as Jack liked to be, though, curiosity continued to have a stronger hold on him. Little did he realize it was the same for Selim.
At least in this situation, Ruka was far away and safe. Furthermore, Selim and Flash were within his sights. And...Victor, he supposed, though Jack still didn't understand what was wrong with him. When Selim paused on the stairs, his breathing irregular and his eyes wide with what his dorm mate thought might have been fear, the Welsh boy stopped and went back to stand beside him, waiting until the snake was able to walk again. It didn't take long, but Jack remained by his side, ready to help in case another of his old panic attacks decided to take him for some reason or other.
Eventually they made it down into the ring where an audience was already seated and eager for entertainment. Jack sighed, having expected about as much, but checked his companion to see how he fared. It wasn't looking good. The amber-eyed boy appeared repulsed by the display and seemed more on edge than ever.
When Victor pulled off his robes, Jack couldn't register anything more he said. He could only stare, slack-jawed, until his vision began to blur. Closing his mouth abruptly, he wiped his eyes on the back of his hand and glanced away. He was so distracted by the sight before him as Victor spoke that he forgot to pay attention to Selim. If only he'd known what had been going through the raven-haired boy's hair right at that moment.
Jack tried to concentrate on the rest of Victor's explanation, but he only caught bits and pieces. He was having a hard time telling himself it mattered when his mind was absorbed in the memory instead of Victor screaming in pain; the sight of his writing body and the odor of his burning flesh. With a small sniff, he wiped his face on his sleeve and glared at the ring.
No, no...things could still turn out fine. Victor...was alive, right? Wasn't that all that mattered? No, how could it, when he clearly wasn't even in control of his own body? Clenching his fists, Jack fought the suddenly oppressive urge to run up to the ring and try to get Victor away from there. To try to get him better medical attention. To see what was really wrong with him. Wherever Vlad was right now, Jack doubted the Ravenclaw would have allowed such a thing. Best not to act too rashly just yet no matter how desperately his emotions tried to propel him to.
When he felt Selim glancing around to look at his peers faces, Jack quickly struggled to recompose his own countenance, but wasn't sure if he'd done so in time. He tried to listen when numbers were called out in teams to be pit against each other in physical brawls from the sounds of it.
What was the point of this? Meaningless violence? How much more stupid could things get? If they'd wanted a show like that, they should have chosen the Gryffindors. This, though...Jack refused to be a part of this. The invitation had ominously told its recipients that if they came to the event, they would comply. Well, then, Jack was interested in seeing how they intended to make him do that, because he wasn't about to obey of his own free will without a better incentive.
The flash of movement beside him drew Jack's attention to Selim's rapidly-drawn blades, causing hazel eyes to widen in panic. What in the world did he think he was going to do with those? By the look on his face, it sure as hell didn't seem like he had taken them out to give them up. No...Jack traced Selim's dangerous gaze to...Victor.
"Fangs! Fangs, calm down!" he whispered urgently, attempting to put his hands over the other boy's in order to lower his weapons before someone happened to see. "What do you think you're doing? This is a wizard tent, remember? You think they don't have precautions against your muggle weapons?"
He heaved a deep breath. "I know things seem bad, but we have to keep calm for now. There's still too much information we don't have. We can't act rashly. They're bound to expect some people to panic and try to escape."
If Selim would allow him, Jack would try to guide his dorm mate toward the sound of Flash's voice. The redhead preferred the brunet's idea to settle things.
"I'm up for that plan," he called to the blue-eyed Slytherin, his countenance set with determination. He wasn't sure how many others would be willing to heed Flash's advice, but the more that were, the better.
Meanwhile, other kids around him still seemed stunned by Victor's big reveal. Jack thought he heard Nico's voice say his name. Then Dan's voice yelled it, causing the redhead to wince.
When he listened to what Dan had to say, however, Jack found himself pleasantly surprised. The Quidditch Captain was apologizing. He hadn't thought the proud fellow had had it in him to do such a thing, much less so openly or publicly. Maybe he had more guts than Jack had originally thought.
And where was Persephone? Hadn't she been the first to try to go ahead of everyone? He wondered if she, too, would be willing to give Flash's strategy a try.
Ability: Prodigial Charms Learner
Stats: Sta: 5 || Eva: 7 || Str: 3 || Wis: 8 || AP: 6 || Acc: 6
Interacting with: @Opeila Seilun, @Flash Holmwood, @Selim Faust, @Percival Rainwood, @Calvon Faux, @Thomas Lestrange, @Nico Shymane, @Dealla Prince, @Erik Tharldson, @Percival Rainwood, @Adonis Thorn, @Vladimir Athantos, @Victor Moore, @Dan Palmer, & @Persephone Barret
PC: Jack Burnett | iNPC: Ginyami Midorimori
15 Jun 2020, 23:47
What is the First Rule...
Directly Mentions: Victor Moore, vaguely references a few others.
Walking away hadn’t done any good, which was no more than expected. Somehow, she still found herself surrounded by chattering idiots, betrayals to the house and league they were destined to share. Innocent talk and blissful confusion, while enviable in grimmer days, was a rather irritating phenomenon now. Occasionally, her ears perked at the sound of a question coming from one of the poor idiotic serpents, asking one another what was going on. As though they knew, or as though no one cared that they didn’t. People were speaking just to hear their own voice and dwell in the trenches of their endless egos, and the blonde wouldn’t fall into this habit. There was no one that would listen, regardless. Her arrival to the opposite side of the room beckoned curiosity, sweet as honey, but no energy came forth to confront such demons.
Behind where 25 stood, the queue still went on. The turnout to an even that no attendant seemed to understand was impeccable, ringing the thunderous bell of what brought them here. That paper she had handed over without a trace of hesitance, the only clue that came as close as to poison the tips of her pale fingers, it had been turned to ash and Persephone still wondered why. It must’ve held some kind of information, some significance in dullness, yet without being aware of the origin of the invitation, or the precise reason it escaped her so gracefully, there was nothing to be done. The only remaining clue, a vague hint, Leatherface [it's such a cute nickname]. His appearance was rather sinister, like his skin had been pulled too tightly, a desperate disguise of an otherworldly existence. The familiarity was no suggestion, the girl’s memory hardly served to recall a single faceless person. Sadly, whatever words he had spoken went unheard; the only prominent voices in the mix were the buzz of the flies and the loathing in her own mind. Neither of which, may she add, helped at all.
It was slow, the line, each person intoxicated on autopilot and uncertainty. Appearing like everyone was programmed to perform almost identical actions, guidelines to be followed, it was an imprecise reminder of a certain curse falling under that description. This changed very little, but it was a fleeting thought that was worth a quiet review if a time came where Persephone cared about any of this. By the look of Leatherface, danger lurked and hungered for the snakes, and a certain uneasiness was well called for. No one could be blamed for their slight tremble or stare of distaste for the unknown, but Persy’s dead look didn’t change. It was a game, a puzzle to be solved, but not one that drew her in with enthralling bait. There was nothing else to think about, so it occupied her mind, yet no pride existed in this claim. To herself, she could easily become just as invested in the unique wings of a butterfly. Was it sad? Depressing? Concerning that this didn’t make her stomach fall upon itself? Probably not. They were just ignorant; this was more a blessing than a curse.
Leatherface was not only distorted in the obvious key feature given by his nickname; his entire figure seemed off, and no other word could do it justice. He wasn’t backwards, within himself and any other hyperbolic preposition. Simply an adjective: off. Almost a reflection against a mirror made to distort, or the water, peaceful but always opposite and waving as the wind went by, but still, these descriptions felt no more accurate or efficient than off. The trapdoor was exposed, and Lea—Victor? —finally began to speak in a comprehensible manner. Persephone, of course, barely knew the boy, and a first name use wasn’t necessary. Besides, the title she granted gave him more soul and accuracy than such a plain name would dare. With no hint of reluctance, the eeriness merely providing atmosphere, Persy would follow him in his descension.
At the bottom, waiting for their anticipated arrival for a reason that wasn’t yet understood, an audience, rowdy and staring at a ring in immense interest. Though she didn’t smile anymore, a chore and a facial expression that may look admittedly unnatural now, someone nearby may see that slightly glimmer in her eyes, the sky temporarily gifting her its stars while the sun still shined, invisible with their new setting. The villain climbed into the ring, his hooded robe discarded not for the benefit of his observers, and launched into a speech that would only half grasp the attention of the young blonde, eyes focused elsewhere. His appearance attracted her courtesy and repelled it all the same. Still around her, gossip. Have some damn manners, the man’s trying to talk.
Fight Club. Iconic speech. Two comic books and a novel, the young blonde believed, memory serving her hardly better than it did in its attempt to place the scrawny appearance of Leatherface. More importantly to the rest of them, perhaps, a movie. Most important of all, fight club. Fighting. Violence. No punishments, but actually a reward that didn’t interest Persy whatsoever. Only small fractions of the speech met her, key phrases being taken into consideration but many being regarded as useless filler words. Descriptions likely included to razzle-dazzle the audience, an imperative aspect to a good show.
It was pitiful how many of her fellow snakes were eager to escape the doom of the ring, as though driven by fear or discomfort in the presence of violence. A Slytherin was not composed by strength or adoration for vehemence, that wasn’t a requirement, but it was their fearful retractions that brought about such pity. They could object, upset the established order, introduce anarchy in a room that was composed by it, but to do so out of anxiety was shameful, enough disgrace to bring upon them to warrant a quick beating. There was no such thing as losing or dying with dignity, but you could live with it, and each snake surrendered that the second their unease drove their actions. Persephone, on the other hand, her appearance didn’t change in a way many would catch. Not appearing apprehensive or joyful, any variation of the words that could be expected from her. Simply indifferent, therefore throwing more gasoline onto the fire than any of them even carried. If any emotion could be connected to such emptiness, it was little more than melancholy.
Her number was called, she was called, as they were one and the same. A few more with it, though the previous identities tied to them were unknown variables. But that didn’t really matter, did it? Not to Persephone.
Ability: Fearless
Stats: Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 4 | Strength: 5 | Wisdom: 7 | Arc Power: 5 | Accuracy: 6
Last edited by Persephone Barret on 16 Jun 2020, 08:20, edited 1 time in total.
Don't talk like one of them, you're not. Even if you'd like to be. - Heath Ledger
Sta: 9 | Eva: 5 | Str: 7 | Wis: 7 | Arc: 5 | Acc: 7
16 Jun 2020, 08:04
What is the First Rule...
Looking around, all the students running around was making his head spin. Nick just wanted to find his teammates so they could plan some sort of strategy even though was there really any strategy in beating people up? At the very least, they should get to know each other a bit better before the match so they could work better as a unit.Interacting with: @Dan Palmer, @Margo White, @Bridget Collins, and @Hanako Tone
Looking around the only differences he could see in people's behavior so far were the various boys taking their shirts and shoes off almost immediately. Then he spotted a slightly older looking girl approaching him. He couldn't quite tell what number was on her shoulder from far away but squitining a bit when she was closer to him, he could see the number 5 imprinted on her. 'Great, one teammate found!' Nick thought, relieved.
"Come on, I found the rest of our team."
'Well I guess standing helplessly in the center of the crowd like a lost child in a department store did work out after all' Nick thought, glad that it hadn't taken much time for the group to find one another. Following the girl, who seemed to be keeping it pretty together during this situation, he spotted the other members of his team.
Out of the three of them, Nick only knew the name of their house's Quidditch captain, Dan Palmer, who was already shirtless. He recognized the faces of the other two since they were all in the same house, especially the other boy who Nick thought to be the same year as him if he was remembering correctly. That was a plus to all of this, though it was a bit odd that it happened to be so, that they all went to the same school so they weren't complete strangers.
"Ay everybody, I'm Nick. I would say tis nice tae meet ye if we weren't in such coarse circumstances." Nick said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, "Couldn't tell ye much about our opposing team, but my dad always used tae say go for the guy or gal who's the first tae break someone's hooter." Then again, advice from his dad wasn't exactly the most helpful from experience.
Ability = Seer
Strength = 3 | Evasion = 8 | Wisdom = 4 | Arcane Power = 4 | Accuracy = 7 | Stamina = 4
"Quotes are for dumb people who can't think of something intelligent to say on their own. Like me."
Bo Burnham