31 Jul 2022, 05:41
Prank War II
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"Your the most beautiful thing I ever seen...."
The whisper escaped the blonde's mouth, a soft smile. Leaning on the balls of his feet, running a hand through his luscious blonde strands as he winked. The whisper wrapping about the room, echoing back.
"Glamorous! Mate, there isn't a better looking person than you."
The reflection of the mirror. Charles stared back at himself, smiling as he played with the strands of his blonde hair. The teen waited for the rest of the Horntails to leave for the night, waiting till he was alone, the blonde would grab hold of Greta's enchanted radio then locked himself in the bathroom of the tent- foyer that lead to the main room of the tent. Originally planning to redo his guyliner and add some gel to his hair before catching up with the others but might have got a tad carried away.
The radio playing multiple rock songs of an century before his time. Songs that the blonde had zero clue of, the volume ravaged from low to medium. Thise on the outer walls could perhaps hear a hum or maybe whisper of the words.
Now, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. Casting himself winks, compliment of whispers to his already large ego, and numerous of strange dance related moves amomg other things. If only Johannes saw this... or rather knew of this.
The blonde would moonwalk past the door, casting smiles with finger guns as he past the mirror. Smiling, popping the collar of his jacket. Brushing back his hair, humming to himself to the tune of the songs playing on the radio. The blonde bounced to the beat, moving his arms diagonally up and down. Shaking his head a tad, humming along as he closed his eyes in his own world.
Rotating his shoulders, waving his arms softly in the air as he stepped and drifted softly to the beat. Humming softly as he did, losing focus on where he was or who might be entering the tent.
The teen bobbed his head, curling his fists as he rocked his hair back and forth to his arms that open and closed every other minute to the new song now blasting in the mind of the blonde. For what music does the blonde listen to? Rock? Wizarding? Muggle? Classic? The world may never know.... and this isn't a answer where one can't snoop through his journal to find, again Niffler
The teen dropped his hands, swinging back and forth to the music that played on the radio. The teen swung his arms back and forth, vibing to the beat as he closed his eyes and softly hummed. Sliding on the heels of his feet, occasionally stumbling over himself as he danced his way through the moment.The teen leaned to the counter of the mirror, smiling softly as he ran a hand through his blonde strands. Softly whispering, "and now folks! The man, the myth, the legand! The one you all have been waiting for-" a wink at the mirrior as he stepped back, a snap followed by a finger gun to the mirror. The reflection.
"Charles Alluring! The quidditch star himself! Ahhhh... cheers cheers..." Charles whispered the words to himself, imagining his future as an professional quidditch star, blowing kisses and smiles at the mirror. Waving to the reflection, smiling back at himself. Holding his biceps up, flexing them through smiles as flashed the pearly whites.
Standing with his back to the mirror, arms crossed over his chest as he whispered"Is there anyone you like to thank for your success, mr Alluring," sliding- slipping on his feet as he turned to face the mirrior. Flashing smiles, soft winks as he flexed his biceps. Smiling at the reflective glass. Running his hand through his hair as he whispered"Thank? There isn't anyone else responsible for this fabulous person here besides myself," flexing his biceps through smiles, leaning back a bit to flex his abs. Smiling, casting finger guns as the reflection as he spoke"for I'm the best! Perfectionist at it's finest! Told you father! Told you I'll make it!" Alright, if he ever achieved his dreams then he would have a few to thanks for them.A fourteen year old pretending to be elsewhere. Playing pretend. The blonde slicked back his hair, casting smiles at himself as he gelled back his blonde strands to the commentary he was whispering.
"And there goes Charles again with the quaffle! He sails down the pitch, look at those muscles... that beauty... "
Combing back the the sides of his hair, carefully working with his hair as the whispers ecoched against the tent walls.
"Charles, number 3, nears the goalposts and he... scores! What a slot! What a slot!"
Running his hand along his hair, testing the durability and approved of the blonde strands before taking the guyliner in hand. Carefully running it over his eyes, using the mirror as a guide with the whispers enclosing him.
"It's a close game, folks! Number 10 has the quaffle and- woah! There he goes, wonder what happened there? Anyway Charles, number 3, got the quaffle and races to the goalposts! He throws- woah! He faked the keeper there! And he scores! Securing his team the lead!"
Punching the air with his fist for a second before focusing on his guyliner, focusing on the lines and marks as he carefully lined his eyes.The teen sat back, head aginest the door, the teen held his head in his hands. Staring at the wall opposite him, the radio blasting the music, upbeat and an rhyme scheme. The blonde felt like throwing something at the device, to shut it off, remembering it belonged to Greta.... he couldn't.... he couldn't risk damaging a item thay belongs to the Valkyrie.
The blonde rested his head aginest the door, the guyliner threatening to spill after all the work he had to place into it.
Legs dropped down, feet to the tent floor of the loo. The teen felt his fingers itch the skin, picking at his nails, the edges glowing red at the edges. The blonde picked. Wanting to feel the pain... the reaction he would give from it... none... there would be none...
Eyes scanned the room. Wondering why he was there... why he stayed... why he didn't join the other Horntails.... meet up with the international student squad... hang out with his friends that time.... the teen dropped his hands, slamming it to the ground.
"Getting a little tired of life... getting a little tired of the routine- of this..."
The blonde inhaled, rubbing at his cheeks as he stood to his feet. His chest tightening, making it harder to breath, shaking out his hands as he felt the urge to scream... to destroy something... the teen rubbed at his chest, the straining within his chest, the teen felt the room spin... the radio grow louder... blocking out the noises that could occur in the main part of the tent. Moving his hands, covering his ears as he shut his eyes. Holding then closed tightly through the spinning colors and echoing music.
The tension in his chest. The urge to run... to scream... slowly overpowering him.. the blonde dropped his hands, stepping forward, kicking his foot into the sink. Eyes spun, launching forward, kicking... punching... what he could... the teen felt his breathing grow, going deeper, rubbing at his hair, through clenched eyes to stop the tears, gripping at the collar of his shirt. The tears threatening to fall.
"I swear.... I swear... I swear that I'm a good kid- guess I'm good for nothing at all..."The blonde leaned close to the mirrior, retouching his guyliner. The music echoing around in the background. Smiling at himself as he carefully redid the black around his eyes.
The teen capped the guyliner, placing it down, rubbing at his hair. Slicking it back. Flattening the hair to head, combing it back to ensure perfectionist. Perfectionist. What is perfectionist? What is the price if perfectionist? Were the others perfect... shiny bits of gold in the rumble? Would he ever be....
The blonde shook back his head, clearing his thoughts as he rubbed back his hair, smiling at himself. Distracted by his shiny blonde locks and glimmering blue eyes, smiling at himself when the mirrior suddenly formed a smudge.
The teen frowned. The smudge blocked the reflection of him, rubbing at the smudge... only is wasn't a strain of water evaporation or dirt... it was a person, an American, Stephen Schwartz to be specific.
Rubbing at the smudge, wanting it gone so he can focus on what is important again. Him. Obviously. The blonde rubbed at the mirror when his ears caught the words of an enchantment. The one that conjured bubbles. The blonde turned to the sound of an closed door, eyes found the bubbles quickly forming... surrounding him...
"What the fu-" Charles started as he swatted at bubbles nearing him when he cuaght the crimson, gold light reflecting through them and got a idea as he spoke"they aren't bad... actually their kinda pretty, not as pretty as me but still." The blonde turned to the mirror, stumbling into bubbles as he smiled at the reflective glass. The bubbles acting as his personal lights, posing with them. Flashing smiles. Finger guns. The music slightly amplified from the bubbles now covering the speakers.The blonde shoved at the bubbles, a challenge but eventually he found his way through the door. Stumbling out of the bathroom, radio in hand and door closing behind him. He assumed the others wouldn't appreciate the bubbles floating about the tent as he would.
The blonde would be cuaght off guard by the explosion of glitter followed by his tent mates, holding back laughter, the blonde offered an smile to the fun sized sparkling slightly gilttered lad as he spoke"it seems we no longer need a bell for you, Leprechaun," an nod to the sheds of reflective paper, "the glitter completes you." The blonde would offer an half smile to questions of why he didn't warn them about the glitter or how he could allow someone in their tent, merely saying he was distracted.
Entering the tent, not helping a half smile at the decorations. He could do without his items floating in the air with the exercise equipment and was that Greta's bunk? However, the googly eyes and glitter were a nice touch. He had to remember to store of for later, perhaps to allow his hair to shine or to give Johannes a sparkling wakeup on morning.
The teen definitely was switching his blankets and pillows with the ones on the ground, covered in glitter, he could sparkle as he slept. As like a dream to the blonde. The blonde set the radio down besides Greta's areas, walking toward the fire place.
The eyes were a little concerning but the cool factor of them... he enjoyed it. A nice touch, it gave him ideas. Perhaps, some eye related clothing in the future for him.
His nostrils took in the air around them, the smells seemed off. There wasn't the normal smells of sweat or masculinity.... not even the egotistical ones. Instead it smell of burning? The melt, crimson of burning. The smell was the only part that bothered Charles, passing by the fireplace for his bunk.
Scanning the non floating items, deciding the eyes would remain on his bunk for the rest of the summer. It was a nice touch.
The blonde found it rather odd that both his and Valentin's belongings were among the levitating, almost as if whoever pulled the prank knew either them or exactly what their belongings looked like.... could a friend or perhaps team mate be apart of the mischief prankers? The thought allowed him to think of Astrid Olsen, the youngest on the quidditch team who felt like a little sister. He didn't think she would do something like this to them, would she? She wasn't in their tent which he felt bad about... he had hope she could join them even if she isn't apart of the hexwizard team.
The blonde would cross his arms, looking around at the place as be walked slowly. It was rather nice, the blonde would near Greta, an softer smile than before as he spoke"want some help?" The blonde would slip his wand from his jacket pocekt, he would work on lowering her items and bed (if it is floating) back to the ground for the others to organize again. Once done, he would reset Felix's fort that he made for Greta. Reconstructing the parts that fell to once again enclose the girl from the others.
As he helped Greta organize and reset her area and items, if someone would have managed to catch the magical airplane and read the note outloud. The blonde would continue helping the Valkyrie as he spoke"yeah, some American bloke or he looked American? Not sure, he cast these bubbles in the loo for an prank? Don't see how that counts as one since their enjoyable." The blonde would offer help to organize and gather Greta's items, listening to the others. Occasionally adding in thoughts. A smile, wanting a part of this plan for retaliation in this prank war.
"There's no such thing as strange creatures, only blinked people" - Newt Scamander
31 Jul 2022, 17:19
Prank War II
Bubba cursed his luck as he made good his escape from the Durmstrang tent. It had worked! It had actually worked! To his great shock and utter dismay, his glitterbomb had worked. How did he know it had worked? Because when he was trying to make good his escape, his dumb ass had tripped, right over the tripwire. He was now covered in glitter. This was a fine mess he'd gotten himself into. When he'd left his little glitter message to Greta he'd done so safe in the knowledge that while she'd probably know it was someone in his tent, she would've never known it was him. He stole a glance behind him and saw the trail of glitter he was leaving behind him. He might as well have signed his name.
This called for a cunning plan. He could try to place the blame on someone from another tent but that wouldn't have worked. The Durmstrang kids were going to be in his tent. The trick was to hide his remaining glitter in someone else's belongings. Yes, if she found it there she'd assume that person left the message. It was a foolproof plan! But who to choose? He crossed Louca and Miles off the list of possible scapegoats right away. He wanted to divert attention from himself but he didn't want to divert it to them, he wasn't really sure why. Astrid was plausible. She was a fellow Durmstrang student so she might've wanted to mess with one of her girlfriends. EmmaLee seemed like the kind of girl that was likely to have some glitter in her trunk for emergencies, but would that be too obvious? Jamie and Lillian were both possibilities but he dismissed them fairly quickly, he especially didn't want to jam Lillian up in his nonsense. He finally settled on Ramzy. He felt like he could get away with putting it in her trunk it would be easy to explain away and he didn't think she'd be too mad about it if she found out. He was done with glitter so it was certainly no loss to him.
Well, "done" was a relative term. He needed to get these clothes off and burn them. He'd never get the glitter out. He finally made it back to the tent, leaving a trail of glitter in his wake. He sealed the remaining bag of glitter and dropped it in Ramzy's trunk, closing the lid and returning to his own bunk. He took out the laundry bag and emptied it of what was already in it, placing the glitter-soaked clothes in. He put on fresh clothes and buried the laundry bag in his trunk. He was planning to go to Diagon Alley to buy his cat in a few days, he'd dispose of the evidence then.
@Evelyn Decipio as Greta Fransson
STA 6 | EVA 6| STR 5 | WIS 13 | ARC 9 | ACC 7
Charmer, Foul Play, Wandmaker
Charmer, Foul Play, Wandmaker
4 Aug 2022, 16:31
Prank War II
Yefim did not spend a ton of time in the tent, besides in the evening when the Horntails curled up to roost by the nighttime fire. He did extensive exercise in the morning, took part in competitions to prove his superiority to the rabble, and occasionally even singled out victims to become his prey for the day. He had just been returning from one of these destructive events when he would come upon the results of a prank war. A few of the others were already reacting to the sight, but Yefim would be uncommonly quiet as he surveyed the scene, looking from detail to detail.
Glitter everywhere. Eyes everywhere. Their stuff was stuck to the ceiling. As Charles stumbled out of the bathroom, he saw it was filled with bubbles. Yeah, this was pretty funny. After he really took it in, a demonic smile would grow on his face. In a way, it was almost like walking into a toy store, it made all of the mundane objects a lot more interesting. With all this glitter, he could play fetch with Niffler with almost anything! That, and the little eyes everywhere were a great look. He jumped to try and snatch a pillow from the ceiling, but found it actually glued in place. He hung there for a second, until he got the bright idea to use it like a swing. Laughing heartily, Yefim would ape out in a way that would no doubt have destroyed the tent if it weren't held together by magic.
Jumping back down, he would leave the rearranging of his sleeping spot for later. He instead let his imagination run wild with ideas on how to retalliate. Unfortunately for them, it would not likely be as 'fun' coming from a horde of vengeful dragons, but they would get what was coming to them. If they didn't expect it already from the Durmstrang team's reputation, they would soon learn.
For we dreamed a lot//And we schemed a lot//And we tried to sing of love before the stage fell apart
Sta: 9 ★Eva: 5 ★Str: 7 ★Wis: 15 ★AP: 3 ★Acc: 15
6 Aug 2022, 06:35
Prank War II
"Italiano. Italian."
"Russian."
| Mangled right ear |@Bubba McGary, Yefim Rumyantsev, Charles Alluring, The Horntail Horde Posse
@Flash Holmwood & @Henry Knight"Hey guys, sorry about that, I ran into some wacko with glitter all over his back and_
...
What in the Kentucky fried fuck happened here." It was, shockingly, not a question, as I return with a cauldron of water to assist in my brewing of pastas that night to find the tent in compete and utter disarray. Glitter was... Everywhere. Googly eyes were... Everywhere. Stuff was stuck to the ceiling...
At least I had been fortunate enough to have a habit of packing things that I didn't use immediately, but that didn't prevent both my Firebolt and my Moontrimmer from being unfortunate members of the ceiling menagerie.
Unamused, I place the cauldron down by my bunk before trying to determine the best way to get my brooms down from the ceiling. Suspended by cable or tape? Nope. No visible wires and tape wouldn't be strong enough to hold them up like that. Magic then.
With a sigh, I roll my eyes and trace a sigil in the air. "Spongify." Indicating to the invisible glue holding the broom to the ceiling. Neatly averting both broom and tent [WDC 11: 15 total, ACC 24], the small sounds of elastic tearing testifies to the glue weakening.
I hold out my open hand, creating a crecent arc with my wand as I mutter; "Accio Moontrimmer." [WDC 9: 19 total]
Hearing the whistle of the ash broom, I catch it in my left hand before propping it against the bunk and doing the same for my Firebolt. [23 WDC Spongify, 27 Acc, 25 WDC Accio] With a quick succession of; "Spongify. Accio Firebolt."
After leaning the Firebolt against its partner, I run the part of it that had been stuck to the ceiling, ensuring that the worst of the nasty gluey remnants had been removed. I do the same for my Moontrimmer, and it is not until I pull back slightly that I notice the googly eyes on the handles of each stick, giving each of them a personality.
"Did Piérre find my tent and decide to screw with us...?" I miss aloud to myself as I pick the eyes off and throw them aside, noting that I sould have to polish both broomstick to repair the damage done to the varnish. 10 minutes, max... But still... Why?
What else was damaged? Well, my down sleeping bag and pillow was also attached to the ceiling. That would take a while longer to bring down. Some random notebooks had googly eyes on them, and with a burst of worry, I check my trunk...
To find it locked, with the key secured around my neck.
Thank God. Nobody would mess with my cooking supplies today... Or anything else that I held near and dear to me in that trunk. I could be thankful that that had been spared, at least.
And then I notice the plethora of googly eyes on my trunk, like the hundreds of eyes of a scallop. With a frustrated and incredibly defeated laugh of disbelief, I slump against it, lightly bumping my head on the chest in incredulousness as I announce to the room: "And why is my trunk now a mimic?" I tug at the small red scarf that pokes itself out of the chest, "It's got the tongue and everything... What the heck..."
Bubbles explode from the bathroom and Charlie stumbles out. Oh, how clever. "Tell me you at least saw somebody with a defining feature leave this crime scene." I reply to his claim of an "American bloke". Illvermorny students looked alike as it was. We would need more than a broad sweeping description to figure out who was responsible for this.
Yefim treats the mess like an esteemed junglegym, and I find myself standing off to the side as he enjoys himself. I'm more focused on making penne and boiling the water in the cauldron by use of the fire pit in the center of the tent. Stirring it... I try to rationalize the situation and put together pieces. Was this malicious or was it a competition?
If it was a competition...
"This... This means war... doesn't... it?" I ask wearily after observing the look in Yefim's face. The kid has about as good a poker face as a child caught redheaded after getting their hand stuck in the cookie jar.
Great. Just great.
"Why didn't any of you guys tell me we entered a Prank War! Forewarning would have been nice, you know!" I scold like an upset nurse as I tend to the pasta and make some cream and butter based white sauce with a very helpful, if nuanced, first year spell. It's dashed with a little Italian white wine... But nobody needed to know that... "Fine. If it's war, then it's war. But at least eat your dinner, you crazy kids. You'll think up better revenge plots on a full stomach than an empty one."
A light smile. If Piérre was indeed behind this... Oh how the turns would be tabled for the both of us.Stats:
Ω Stamina 9 | Evasion 7 | Strength 15 Ω
Ω Accuracy 14 | Wisdom 9 | ArcPower 0 ΩAbilities:
Ω Obnoxiously Strong | Perfectionist I | Martial Artist | Healing Sage I Ω
6 Aug 2022, 09:06
Prank War II
Valentin returned to the tent minutes behind Romeo. Stepping inside after an arduous day out with the quidditch team in their “play another position” exercise, Valentin was about to throw himself down into the fireside pillows when he realized that the room was in utter chaos: levitating belongings, googly eyes, and a metric sh*t ton of glitter. As Charles stepped out of the bathroom with a wave of bubbles, Romeo’s reply summarized the scene:
"Tell me you at least saw somebody with a defining feature leave this crime scene."
The white seeker blinked a couple of times before Charles replied, "yeah, some American bloke or he looked American? Not sure, he cast these bubbles in the loo for an prank? Don't see how that counts as one since their enjoyable."
Val’s mind clinked into unraveling the prank’s mysteries as a hint of anticipation sparked in his eyes. The seeker leapt high into the air to snag a zooming magical airplane. Val liked planes, muggle though they were, and he couldn’t help but smile at this one's cute little form as he unfolded its paper surface to read its note aloud:
“It says, ‘Redecorating services courtesy of Shark Tent, Doo doo doo...?'"
Val was tired. Shark Tent? Hmm, well, Charles was right that this did have an Ilvermorny stink to it, but not only that. The style was not just… no, there was something else. More than Ilvermorny. It was hard to explain. Valentin’s and Charles’s possessions floated with particular care compared to the rest of the room’s disarray. Multiple pranksters with different degrees of care for consequences, and… Val’s head was just too fuzzy from sleep deprivation.
“Which tent has Americans and has to do with sharks?” passed Valentin as the waft of hot pasta water greeted his nose. Oh, Romeo was cooking. Val wanted to help with that. The stink of burned glitter didn’t make for a great combination, though, so Valentin hooked open the tent doors to encourage passive airflow to circulate through the tent. Charles seemed busy helping Greta before helping himself, so Valentin took the opportunity to lay himself onto his broom and fly up to the top of the tent to begin collecting the more difficult-to-reach items up there. After all, Val still had his broom with him, strapped on semi-permanently as it usually was on practice days. It wouldn’t be an unusual sight for him to crash into sleep with it still on his back, as the thing was functionally another part of him anyway. First gently pulling down Charles’s items, Val gave a hmph before asking, “Charles, why is it that your bag and mine were treated with so much more care? Happenstance?” Val’s red duffle continued to float as the seeker circled with his broom, restoring items to their respective owners’ bunks. He would shortly forget that his own bag was still floating there when he finished his last flight. With a distracted sigh, Valentin surveyed the glittery eyeful that was their tent. Kind of charming, thought Val. He was too tired to find it funny.
"This... This means war... doesn't... it?" asked Romeo, observing Yefim’s facial expression. Val turned his head to look, too, at Yefim as he monkeyed around with unbridled joy. Yeah, that was Yeffy alright, and Romeo had read it correctly-- this would surely mean war.
As the familiar, homey fragrance of buttery cream sauce filled the air, it occurred to Valentin that the fireplace glitter had sufficiently burned off for him to close the tent doors back up. This secrecy would be important for the team when discussing their next actions. More importantly, it would better trap the aroma of the Italian’s cooking inside the tent. Late to the game, Valentin didn’t find much left to help Romeo with regarding cooking-- although, this was probably in everyone’s best interest. Curling up on the pillows nearest the chef without risking getting in the way, Valentin sank his fingers into the fur rug below him and took a moment to rest. The pernicious drift of glitter would inevitably work its way into Valentin’s hair and clothes.
So… what can we learn from this? What was our weakness? Why were they able to enter, and why did they choose us? Did we just happen to be picked-- as by the wheel of fortune-- or does someone have an axe to grind? Could I have prevented this? What can we gain from the inevitable war to come?
Valentin’s violet-silver eyes opened and blinked sleepily up at the tall boy next to him.
“Do you think--” began Val, only to be cut off by his stomach’s rumbling Rrrrrrrrrrrrrr, reminding he hadn’t eaten anything yet that day due to early-morning boot camp preparations. “Did they leave any other clues?”
Stats: STA 8 ✦ EVA 13 ✧ STR 2 ✦ WIS 15 ✧ARC 1 ✦ ACC 15 - Ency
Abilities: Keen Eye ✦ Charmer ✧ Evasive Maneuvers ✦ Fearless
8 Aug 2022, 00:15
Prank War II
Moderation
New Round
Gameplay:Reducio
- There will be the Perpetrator Phase and Victim phase for each round
- At the start of each round, one team will be designated the ‘Perpetrators’. Their job is to plot and prank the other tent/group. The Perpetrators will have one week to post any plotting and attempted pranks before there will be a Moderation post. This Moderation will roll to see the successes and failures of your pranks and stealth. (You don’t want to be found out!)
- Each member of the Perpetrators can either do an individual prank or work with teammates for larger pranks to improve the success rate and scale of the prank.
- The other group/tent will be designated as ‘The Victims’ of that round. After the moderation, the Victim team can react to the successful or failed pranks against them and begin plotting their own revenge. This Victim Phase will also receive one week.
- Once the Victim Phase ends, the team roles will swap and a new round will begin. So if Team A is the Perpetrator in Round One, Team A will be the Victims in Round Two.
- If supplies are needed for certain pranks, the Groundskeeper is happy to provide them with no questions asked for they are a strong supporter of creative expression.
Warring Teams:
Team 7:ReducioYefim Rumyantsev (@Flash Holmwood), Greta Fransson (@Evelynn Decipio), Mikael Halldorson (@Percival Rainwood), Johannes Sauer (@Astrea S Neptune), Charles Alluring (@Henry Knight), Romeo Marchonne (@Pierre Marchonne), Cielle Johanses (@Ivy Bellamy), Valentin Schnell (@Aida MA Ellwood), and Lysander Stavrou (@Phaedra Stavrou)
VS
Team 8Reducio@EmmaLee LeDames, Miles Thatcher (@Simon Kincaid), Stephen Schwartz (@AngelFyre McCubbin), Louca Dufort (@Emma Wynn), Jamie Ziegler (@Gemima Sable), @Lillian Ward, @Emma Bennett, @Bubba McGarry, Astrid Olsen (@Anastasia Varney), @Ramzy RossiRound 2: Perpetrator Phase
Team 7...It is time for your revenge. Go forth little demons!
In this Perpetrator Phase, the designated Perpetrators of the round will be given an OC week to plot, plan and attempt to unleash pranks on the other team.
Perpetrators: Teams 7
- At the end of the week, moderation rolls will be done to determine the success and failures of the pranks. Failing might be just as entertaining as succeeding...
- Each Perpetrator will be allowed to take 1 action in this phase. The action can either be a specific prank that they are trying to pull or designating that they are assisting another one of the perpetrators with their prank for a higher success rate.
- If your action is an attempted prank, you must also designate either an individual target or the whole victim team. Attempting to prank the entire team with one prank will have very high difficulty.
- Perpetrators can post multiple times in the phase (for IC discussion/strategy) if desired but only their final post's action will be considered.
- Be creative but realistic with what your pranks are. Chaos and mischief are highly encouraged!
Victims: Team 8
- During the Perpetrator Phase, no action is required by the victims. You are simply the targets of their wrath!
- Once the moderation has been posted, then the Phase will shift, and your characters can react to the successful and failed pranks to begin plotting revenge.
Rules is Rules:
- As always, site rules and ratings will apply and clothing will be required at all times. Stats will also be required for the moderations, so make sure your trunk is up to date!…
- Please have your character stats listed either at the top or bottom of your posts for ease of moderation.
- The Moderation of this Phase will take place OCC in a week.
- The Groundskeeper wants plausible deniability. So if anyone asks...He did not supply you heathens with tools... Even if he did...
- Have fun, make friends, defeat rivals, and be pirates...
8 Aug 2022, 02:27
Prank War II
As the Horntail Horde's tent flap closed, Stephen had mixed feelings about what he had seen and thought he had heard. He had decided to hang back after team Conspira-sea retreated back to the home tent. He primarily wanted to see if he could enjoy first hand any of the horde's reactions, and he was able to do some of that for sure, but there were a couple of other little nuggets of interest as well.
The first thing that struck him was that their reconnaissance had an unanticipated failure. Apparently not all of the Horntail Horde had vacated the tent at the time of their pranking. A tall blonde had been in the lavatory the whole time googly eye gluing, bubble making, and furniture elevating had been taking place, and what is worse, he told them all that he caught sight of the person who cast the bubbles and that he looked like an "American". Great. Stephen had been seen.
When he cast the bubbles, he purposefully had not opened the door too widely because he wanted room enough just for his wrist in order to fill the room to capacity. He did not think to look to see if a tent member was in there as they were all supposed to be gone.
As Stephen moved from the side of the tent across from the Horntail Horde's that had been giving him cover to view the horde's reactions, he started walking back to his own tent. His first thought was whether or not he would be able to avoid the the tall fellow who said he saw him. Likely not. He could try, of course, but it would be difficult. As he was pondering his abilities, and opportunities, to remain unseen by the fellow, his attention was captured by something sparkling on the ground in the moonlight. Glitter. A very definite trail of glitter.
Bubba's glitter bomb trap had been a thing of beauty... until it wasn't. That it had been tripped early was not as unfortunate as the fact that this damn glitter trail led right to their tent. Stephen stopped for a second and let his wand slide into his palm. He turned it clockwise in his hand until he came to the sweet spot where his thumb most comfortably rested. The plan had been that they would all arrive at and depart from the Horntail Horde tent by way of the Shark Tent. It was a backup safety plan, and this glitter trail was proof of the necessity for such.
Stephen looked around and quietly, but firmly, intoned Scourgify while making his 'S'-shaped wand movements. Thankfully no light was produced with the charm, so odds of being detected were lessened. He performed the charm too many times to count on his way back to his own tent, but it seemed to be working. As he passed by the decoy Shark Tent, Doo doo doo, he left just enough of the glitter to be seen and possibly convince any of the horde that the magical airplane spoke the truth. He did re-double his efforts on the Scourgify castings between the Shark Tent and his tent though. When he got to Conspira-sea's entrance, he scoured the ground outside and the tent flaps thoroughly with the charm.
Walking into the tent, he could hear the laughter and the pride in the voices of his fellow pranksters on a job well done. Not wanting to completely burst their burstable bubbles, he entered and simply looked at all of them, agreeing it had mostly been a job very well done. Still, he took a pause and relayed his other thoughts and would spend the next 10 minutes giving his reasons for such. "We may have a problem."
@Bubba McGarry
@AnastasiaVarney @Simon Kincaid @Emma Wynn @Gemima Sable @EmmaLee LeDames @Lillian Ward @EmmaBennett @Ramsy Rossi
9 Aug 2022, 09:21
Prank War II
threading as johannes cyprian sauer
group thread with the Horntail Horde & Conspira-sea Tent
speaking in russian, unless specified otherwise
Take it from me: Don’t settle for half-assing things.
When it came to evening mealtimes and curfews, Johannes was often one of the last of the Horntails to stop by after a day of activity. Whether if it was at home, Durmstrang, Schnell estate or summer camp, he often skirted around the edges of an 'appropriate' time to check in for the night. In this, he was consistent in a way he often was not. Today, however, was one of the rare exception days in hell that his usual habit couldn't hold up.
The mental confusion that was switching positions in Boot Camp mostly hinged on the fact that each position had a totally different agenda and gameplay than the others. Indeed, he had gained lots of respect and learned many accidental lessons in eye-strain this fine day. How did seekers with bad eye sight manage in such a competitive setting? Was there such a thing as prescription goggles? Hell, were seekers even allowed to wear goggles on non-rainy days or did that allow too much leeway for the magical equivalent of auto-aim? So many questions, so little time...
Luckily for him, a familiar tuft of white on white- their co-captain and probable resident expert on the position- stood out from the crowd, offering hypothetical answers (as contrived as they could be) to his hypothetical scenarios. ”Hey, Cupid!" Johannes' voice was drowned out by the distance separating them, failing to catch anyone's attention other than a couple of irrelevant stragglers. The idea of 'Seeker see, seeker do' seemed to extend to their white Niffler, for Valentin was just as slippery as a snitch when it came to grabbing his attention between all of the other people the albino surrounded himself with. Sure, Johannes had always tried to be a spotlight stealer but he could never compete with the effortless intrigue and established relationships of of all his fellow Hexwizard teammates. Not for one person and certainly not for multiple. ”Hold up! Real quick-" He could certainly try, though, and no one could ever say that Johannes ‘Fuck around and figure it out’ Sauer was a quitter.
Unbothered by the failed attention grabber, he picked up the pace into a jog - and then eventually into a proper sprint midway through - as the other disappeared into the tent. He ducked into their temporary home, attention elsewhere, breezing past the hallway and closed bathroom door. With shoe soles already worn slightly slippery from long-time use and momentum unhindered by the multiple tent doors, the heavy carpet of rainbow glitter at the tent's main room entrance would prove to be his downfall.
There was no time for the surprise of their tent's unexpected redecoration to sink in before Johannes was sent crashing forward onto the floor with a colourful cloud that could rival any disco ball. Done in by his own poor judgement! "Oww, what the hell?" The billow of hell-worthy disturbed glitter settled well and fast upon him, sealing his poor sparkly fate as he pushed himself up in alarmed confusion.
Whatever he was going to talk about previously was lost to the seas of incredulity as a golden bubble entered his periphery, footsteps signalling the arrival of Charles from the previously closed bathroom door. He half-expected the bubbles to contain confetti in them like a true party balloon. "Yeah? Maybe the tent entrance needs one if this is what happens." He half-heartedly huffed at the spill of gold making their home around the mini-hallway.
Pointedly ignoring the funny way the blonde's words made him feel and completely denying the mental note of 'Add more glitter to your wardrobe', Johannes fell back on humourous judgement to keep his composure as he sat up. "I feel like a shitty vampire extra from Twilight... Edward Cullen better fuckin' watch out." Stephanie Meyer's wackass idea of how a vampire acted in the sun had nothing on the actual nuisances that were sugar-and-mischief hyped underyears.
Exasperatedly pulling himself up onto his feet and trying (read: failing) to shake the glitter off of his clothes and out of his hair with all the undignified instincts of a wet dog shake, he eventually resigned himself to a fruit fly's lifetime of sparkly hell. In the background, his team-tentmates discussed the hidden meaning behind the mini-attack. (Maybe he had just made the clean-up situation worse, but judging from the mess thrown all over the floor, ceiling and walls... A little couldn't go too long of a way when the path was as googly-eyed as their tent.) It indeed was the Case of the Horntail's 'Not-Quite' Horror.
He craned his head up towards the mess of equipment on the ceiling, squinting suspiciously at the sight. It didn't take much searching to find his duffle bag glued to canvas upside down, the straps swinging innocently as if the poor thing didn't get magically manhandled presumably not that long ago. A riot of googly eyes stared accusingly at him from where they were slapped against his mostly-empty broom bag, which itself was hooked up onto a piece of Yefim's dedicated 'throne'. The idea of some unknown stranger potentially going through his things made his skin crawl unpleasantly. Or maybe that was just the glitter? As Valentin took to cleaning up to the canopy before settling down, Johannes crossed the tent to pick up his wayward bag, tossing a compliment on their current chef's cooking as he passed.
“They couldn't have gotten too far." He paused briefly to snoop around the tent for clues, scuffing the bottoms of his shoes against the mess around him absentmindedly. Vaguely, Johannes wondered where the Baby Shark tent got all of its supplies. Perhaps some of them had parents who sent some over by mail or, an even more exicitng option, they had hopped down to some craft store in London themselves.
His foot caught on something loose on the entrance's floor, tangling slightly as he lifted it up curiously to catch the light. [Investigation Check = 28 ([d20 : 20] + 8 Wis)] Ah, it looked like their unknown assailants had tried to act smarter than intially expected. Of course, it didn't work out the way they intended but he supposed that the thought counted. Suddenly the suspicious trail leading outwards appeared all too obvious. "There's glitter leading out the door, though I don't know about outside... And their levitations haven't even ended concentration yet."
Though it was clear that their champion (one of the only ones in attendance seeming to enjoy their situation properly) was having some fun with the practical jokes, Johannes couldn't help but feel a little disappointed at the courtesy of his fellow troublemakers. It was all a little... amateur.
Glitter and googly eyes, as inconvenient and usually funny as they were, didn't have the same punch when a couple of wand-castings could easily clean up several hours of decoration. And the cherry on top was the fact that some of their pranks didn't even succeed, judging from the fucked-up tripwire and the remains of what should have been a glitter bomb lying uselessly on the floor. This was a case of 'git gud' and Durmstrang's opposition didn't seem to be putting their all, but that could soon be rectified.
Full ass your problematic solutions to situations.text colour #4d5c7f
[@Henry Knight, @Flash Holmswood, @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood & @Piérre Marchonné]
| astrea neptune . . . hogwarts wizardry. duellist | . . . johannes sauer durmstrang institute. horntail horde. |
9 Aug 2022, 18:50
Prank War II
Messing with Durmstrang was a bad idea. Little did this group of pranksters know, within their ranks was a sneaky little spy. Once she had returned to Quidditch practice with her loyal teammates, many of the Horntails included, she would rat out the tent that housed the amateurs (as Hanya would call them.) Once they were similarly vacated from the premises, the dragons swooped in for righteous vengeance. Yefim was at the head of the pack, an evil grin on his face with great expectations. The tent was not just any tent, it housed the Ilvermorny champion: Miles Thiles (whose name he mostly remembered.) Yefim couldn't wait to sow some seeds of fear in him right from the start.
Right when he got in, his first impression was that it was... very green. Too green. It needed some Durmstrang flags strewn all around it. He would leave that to one of his cronies though, as he had some serious business to attend to with Miles' bed. First he would take some red paint, which the Hogwarts caretaker was all too keen to provide, and start drawing a magic circle. It was 'magic' only in the sense that his dad thought it was magic, but really it was muggle garbage. Not that Yefim knew that, and not that anyone who saw the stark red lines in circles and ancient markings might notice. Ignoring whatever the other Horntails would be gleefully doing around him, he would concentrate on this piece of art for a while.
Satisfied, he would then do the actual prank. Lifting the sheet, he would take a hunting knife he had and cut into the mattress, ripping it open like a freshly caught deer on a hook. With its innards exposed, he would draw his wand, pointing it to the fresh wound. ”Arachnos.” If the spell succeeded, Yefim would quickly tuck the sheet back in tightly, keeping Mile's new pet safe and cozy inside. If he did not succeed, the bed already looked like a threat, whether easily cleaned up by a cleaning spell or not.
Once he turned around, he saw that a shrine was being built in the center of the room. Typical of his hilarious little flock, he loved them and their endless creativity. Yefim would leave his knife on the top, coating it with some of that red paint he had for the perfect spooky effect. A few giggles would be had. He would go around and admire the works of others and encourage them for a while before they were done and it was time to go. Astrid had assured them that the group would be out for plenty of time. That's why you don't mess with Durmstrang.
Action: Casting spider conjuring charm inside of Mile's bed
Mentioning: @Anastasia Varney (as Astrid Olsen) @Simon Kincaid (as Miles Thatcher)
All Horntails have permission to god mod Yefim cheering them on or approving of their pranks
For we dreamed a lot//And we schemed a lot//And we tried to sing of love before the stage fell apart
Sta: 9 ★Eva: 5 ★Str: 7 ★Wis: 15 ★AP: 3 ★Acc: 15
9 Aug 2022, 20:16
Prank War II
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Once the initiation fun of the pranks whereof, there was the question left. Who would dare sneak into the Horntail to mess with them? Those who did were definitely either brave or stupid to mess with the durmstrang team.
At the next day's quidditch practice, it would have appeared that the Horntails held a spy in the tent responsible for the pranks. Astrid Olsen. The second string seeker and quidditch sister. The Conspira-sea Tent wouldn't know what has befallen them, one doesn't prank a durmstrang and get away starch free. After all, durmstrang blood is thicker than summer camp blood.
Charles would learn the layout and assigned bunks from Astrid. When theConspira-sea tent was out one day, hats off to Astrid, is when they would strike. The blonde coming up the rear of the group, supplies tucked away in the bag he brought along.
The first few steps in the Conspira-sea tent and immediately the blonde thought it was too green, not suitable for an first year forget an durmstrang sister. Charles knew some redecorating was in order for the tent, taking Yefim's heed and starting to cover every inch of the area in durmstrang flags.
Stringing them to the walls, tossing them over bunks and replacing sheets with durmstrang flags. Covering luggage and bags with the emblem of durmstrang printed on the flag. Tying them to the doors and tent flaps, any spot that he could he would have placed an durmstrang flag.
The redecorating of the tent in durmstrang flags and colors was his task for their prank but that won't be all he will do that day. Eyes glancing over the bunks, remembering the layout told by Astrid as he found her bunk on the side of tent. An quick glance over the bunk, her bags underneath the bunk and the bed appeared to be the only one that looked like a girl slept there.
Getting to work, the blonde tied durmstrang flags to the ends of the bed. Creating curtains on her bunk from the flags, separating her from the others of the tent to give her some privacy. Simlair to Greta's bed with the pillow fortress that Felix created on the first morning of camp.
The pillow fortress, sparking inspiration for the blonde as he grabbed the pillows of the surrounding beds. Stacking them to the sides of Astrid's bed, creating a small fort for her at the base of the bunk, in front the durmstrang flag curtains. As another extra protection of her privacy from the others.
The blonde had a few flags, two to be exact. Tucking on flag to her bed as makeshift sheets for the girl and the other would folded into a square ans placed at the center of her bed.
From the bag, the blonde withdrew sweets and candy of different kinds that he swiped from the Horntails stash. Forming the sweets and candy into an durmstrang logo in the middle of her bed. Scattering the extra pieces on her sheets and the flag.
Taking his bag in hand, the blonde withdrew an quaffle plushie and an snitch plushie. Setting the two down by her pillows, with an smaller pillow between them that had the words "Durmstrang Seeker #7" stitched to the fabric.
Taking from his bags vines with flowers attached to them, wrapping them around each piller and rail to the bunk. Wanting the girl to have an durmstrang-nature bunk. A nod to his work. The blonde withdrew patches from his bag, the patches shown the Horntails, Durmstrang, Quidditch, and Music notes. Setting the patches in a pattern around the durmstrang logo made of candy+sweets on her bed.
The final item he withdrew from his bag. An letter. Astrid in her quidditch uniform sketched at the bottom with an few world at the top written for the girl.
Setting the letter down, underneath her pillows not taking any chances of the others finding out.Astrid,
We hope you enjoy the surprise and that the tent shows more of durmstrang for you, little sister. Let us know if your tent members have some words over this surprise for you or find out of your involvement with us in this prank war.
We'll help you. I can personally promise that.
- Chaser #3
Taking a step back, letting the makeshift curtains fall covering her bunk. Charles took his bag in hand, slowly retracing his steps from her bunk to the entrance of the tent. As he did, the blonde scattered Myosotis (Astrid's favorite flower he remembered her saying once) and wildflowers in a path leading from the tent entrance to her bunk. If any of the Horntails upset the path, the blonde would send them an glare and careful choosen insults before rushing over to fix the path.
Finishing Astrid's surprise and the redecorating of the Conspira-sea tent, Charles turned to the others where he found an shrine have been built in the center of the tent. The group's creativity never bored the blonde, apporching the shrine as he withdrew an guyliner pen from his bag. Placing it into the shrine with the other items.
The blonde would take to walking around, eyeing the others, listening to Yefim's comments on his own doings for that tent and changing them to the expectations of the champion. He didn't care for Yefim just wanted them perfect... that's it. They had time but the blonde ensured to leave with the others, an smile to the Conspira-sea tent. A reminder of why one doesn't mess with the champions and kings of the wizarding world.
@Anastasia Varney,@Simon Kincaid,@EmmaLee LeDames,@Bubba McGarry,@Emma Wynn,@AngelFyre McCubbin,@Lillian Ward,@Emma Bennett,@Ramsy Rossi,@Gemima SableAction: Covering every inch of the tent with Durmstrang flags
"There's no such thing as strange creatures, only blinked people" - Newt Scamander