S.N.O.G copied thread

The young Slytherin lad gradually got used to his surroundings, and as usual, sometimes having a little fun proved harmless. Remedy appeared to be a good person and welcoming overall, but having to get in touch with her made him feel strangely at ease.

Atlas gave Remedy his typical endearing smile in response to her question about how he was feeling: “Thanks, I’m doing wonderful. I hope you’re doing well.” Remedy then went on to say that the boy may sit next to her and that he wasn’t late. Atlas was really relieved and didn’t hesitate to accept the girl’s offer of a drink whilst sitting next to her. He was thirsty and thought that the drink offered to him might help.

And he drank—eagerly swallowed the drink and let it glide down his throat.

“Ah, this is satisfying, can I have another?” Remedy handed him another drink after that, and he gobbled it up as though the flavor was irresistible. He tried to speak in a whisper so that no one would hear him or interrupt the proceedings, but he said, “Heck yeah, this is delicious, what did you guys put in this??”

As the events unfolded, Atlas found himself utterly captured. The scene before him was downright intriguing—his fellow students were kissing! He gasped in a dramatic fashion, his surprise clear. Rubbing his eyes, he questioned whether he had truly seen the kiss or if someone had spiked his drink. But no, it was a genuine kiss. Atlas was truly a momma’s baby.

“Rem, look! They’re kissing!” he exclaimed dramatically. “My parents prevent me from viewing such TV scenes. They say it’s bad, and I’m not supposed to do it until I turn 21.”

Leaning back against the foot of the bed, Colin smiled, his arms stretched out again over the footboard. The spin of the bottle was mesmerising. No wonder Aamon was so fascinated by it! He wondered idly if had been a charmed at some point in time in its life. It sure took its time spinning down to a stop! Colin chuckled. Aamon asked if he was going to get beaten up by a cat. Like. What!?

Colin looked around, seeing if he could spot any of the dorm cats. He caught sight of Hermes and Greebo chasing something --- probably each other! Prat seemed to have acquired some rather fetching scratches on his face. Heheh. Claire was gulping down the cidre --- hey wait. Was that Colin's flask? He looked around briefly. Couldn't find it. He shrugged. Well, there were loads around, right?

Several other kids had shown up. Mostly girls! Colin thought that next time, they should just add a G to S.N.O.G. for girls! That would include everyone! Plus! There would be a greater likelihood of getting snogged! Which, after all, was entirely the point of the evening's activities!

Turning back towards Aamon, he found the boy's lips locked onto Park's. "Owoooo!! Go Aamooooonnnn!!! That's a proper snog, that!" Honestly, Colin thought. That lad really needed a good snog. Poor kid had been through a lot since starting school. He'd heard stories involving that prat Finn Connor and Aamon ending up in hospital. Oh! And of course, he'd learned from Emmi that Aamon had been harrassed by hag dolls. Hag dolls, of all things! Lad was a danger noodle in the most literal sense of the word!

As he watched, his thoughts turned towards Emily. Emily Shepherd. Now there was a really cute girl! Adventuresome. Smart. And also having the quintessential qualities of Hufflpuffery that he most appreciated in the likes of AngelFyre! But Emmi! He thought it odd. She had been on his mind for while now. Colin scratched his chest idly. She was certainly a tough girl. Not at all afraid to brave the deepest parts of the Forbidden Forest! And she was really cute!

"I'd like to kiss with her!" Colin said softly. He sighed.

Snaps sat down around the circle of kids playing spin the bottle. He gathered she was talking about cats. Colin smiled. Hermes was a good kitty! Very active and playful! Claire upended her flask. Colin's eyes narrowed. He really had the feeling that was his flask she was draining! The slight buzz he'd gotten from the bitter tasting drink lulled him into a kind of calmness he wasn't used to. More like being in that twilight zone between sleep and waking.

And then he saw it. A shadow flitting around the edges of the room?

He paid it no mind.

Probably Greebo chasing something.

The bottle kept spinning and choosing kissing partners! Aamon was all on about his new found snogging prowess! He realised with a certainty that, yes indeed, he had kissed Nabi Park! He turned towards Claire and asked her if she wanted to have another go! "Whoa! There's a lad! Extra snogs for Claire Lewis!"

He looked back towards Ava.

He smiled.

Extra snogs with Ava would be totally in order! Colin sighed contentedly. He stared at Ava. "You know what? I really love ---" Colin's eyes widened. His heart thumped! "AVA!!! Ava was in danger! That was not Greebo he'd seen chasing something around! Colin's eyes were sharp in the super dim light of the dorm. This was no kid! Neither was it a prefect or a professor!

Colin leaped to his feet! With a graceful sweep of his left arm, his wand was out, pointing straight at Ava! He'd only ever seen these creatures in his dreams and in his fantasies! He never thought the Shadow Creatures would ever penetrate so far into Hogwarts! Right into his own dorm! "SHADOW CREATURES!! Shadow creatures in Slytherin!" Colin hollered! "AVA! SNAPS! Help!"

Colin jabbed his wand!

"Alarte Ascendare!" Colin aimed the spell right next to Ava's ear, over her shoulder! The shadow creature zoomed up into the air!

He brought his wand down forcefully as leapt to action!

"Descendo!" The shadow creature thumped against the hard floor! Colin turned. They were everywhere! He had to do something! He pointed his wand over towards Matt's bed.

"Nive Percutio!"

Back towards the corner of the dorm where the creatures seemed to be coming from!

"Jaculor! JACULOR! JACULOR!!"

Colin dashed towards the middle of the room, over where there were some sofas. He pointed at one creature.

"Immobulus! Incendio Duo!"

Spells flew in every direction as the armies of dark creatures invaded Regulus Dorm! Colin hoped that the others would come to his aid! "Lumos maxima!" He tried blinding them! "Ventus!" He tried blowing them away with wind!

"They keep coming in! Where are they coming from?" Colin cried out!

"Incendio! Depulso!"

Nothing seemed to stop the shadowy creatures of nightmare!

@Ava Winchect | @Astra Norrick || Everyone else: please feel free to notice Greebo, Colin's black cat. He's friendly, and he likes treats! He's used to chaos, but probably won't appreciate Colin's wild outburst!

trigger warnings: depictions of blood and hysteria within this post

Her heart raced as time seemed to slow down as they kissed. Wow.

It wasn’t there first kiss, but she still wasn’t sure whether it was real or not. But for that moment she didn’t care, she just reveled in the moment, the small pocket of space around them feeling like Heaven, just for a moment. And for that perfect moment, with her heart racing and the chatter of the party fading into the background, she couldn’t remember why she was stressed or even why she was there.

When they pulled apart she noticed the giggling and pointing around them, and a faint blush came to her face. Was she becoming another of @Colin McCoire’s numerous fangirls? Worse, what did the public think of them? We’re not a thing, she had to remind herself. And more than that, she was Ava Winchect. She didn’t care what anyone thought of her.

Or so she wanted everyone to think.

By that time, most had joined in the game and were eagerly awaiting their turn to spin the bottle, and to steal or earn a kiss. Based off the age of many of the students, possibly their first.

Beside her, Colin was enthusiastically praising the kiss. Snog. Whatever. The compliments tempted a deeper blush to grace her face, which she hid by ducking her head for a moment.

“Not bad yourself. I’m sure you have lots of experience.” Her eyes widened as she realized what she had unintentionally said. “Shoot. I didn’t mean it like that--Nora!”

The relief on her face was visible as she turned to face her housemate, who had arrived on scene. “Uh, not much,” she responded to @Nora De Carie’s question about what had been missed. Although now that it had been mentioned, she did notice some unusual expressions on her housemates, especially the usually composed snakes.

The students around them continued to spin the bottle in the center of the circle, but as her head began to throb, she couldn’t quite focus on the game. She was glad that she had decided to come, she decided. Raising the flask in her hand to her lips, her attention slipped from the room to the crimson stains trailing down her hand.

The flask dropped to the ground, and the outside world seemed to vanish as she heard the flask clatter across the ground and land next to an object. The object. It had already tormented her dreams, now her reality?

A single silver dagger was resting on the ground, covered in blood that couldn’t be real. How could it? She hadn’t gone through with it--she had stopped herself!

“No, no, no, no.” A delirious laugh burst from her lips, as she held her hands up to her face, hands shaking and coated into crimson shadows. Shadows of the past, the present, the future.

“I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it.” Her breaths came in short bursts as her hands raked down her face, eyes trained on the dagger. No longer silver. No, it couldn’t be.

She couldn’t process the words Colin was saying, just hear the frantic shouting. His frantic shouting.

Her head hurt, her heart hurt, everything hurt. What had she done? Colin had been right. She deserved Azkaban, what was happening? Were the past 2 years just hallucinations? Was none of it real? Had she actually gone through with it?

A sob pushed through her lips as she looked around the room, the entire thing an expanse of shadows and crimson paint.

“I didn’t mean to,” she sobbed.

TLDR: Starts happy from the kiss and observes for a moment before she has a bit of a crisis from her hallucinations.
Action: She can’t see it, but her hair and eyes have turned crimson red (metamorphmagus abilities)

Colin McCoire wrote: 9 Feb 2025, 01:17

"AVA!" Colin cried out again.

Why was she just standing there? Couldn't she see them? They were stalking all around the room now! It was all he could do to keep the creatures away from the little kids who couldn't defend themselves! But he needed help. He wasn't sure if Snaps had heard him or not. And now Ava was --- turning red!

"Ava! They've got you! You're turning all red!" Indeed, Ava's eyes were red. Not bloodshot red, but --- like actual blood! And so was her hair! They were eating his friend alive! And all she was doing was going on about "I didn't do it I didn't do it!" Why was she looking at her hands? Her hands were perfectly normal --- they just didn't have her wand in them!

"Flipendo!" Colin cast at the shadow creature standing on the chair behind Ava.

He turned. "Depulso!" he got the one going after Aamon! Aamon was staring at Claire. Claire was staring at Aamon. Could none of them see the danger they were now in! They were coming in the window now! Colin dashed over towards the stone window seats, his wand flashing. "Diffindo!" he cast at the shadow creatures crouched on the cushions there!

His ears caught the sound of Ava sobbing. Two more creatures were about to pounce on her! He ran back across the room, with a snarl! No one was going to mess with his mate that way, shadow creature or otherwise! "Ingens explosiones! Ventus!" he cast in quick succession, sending the chair and cushions the shadow creatures were hiding behind flying in every direction!

He skidded to a stop in front of Ava. Nora was just off to one side. "AVA! DON'T. MOVE."

There was a shadow creature perched on Ava's head! It was clawing into heir hair. Maybe that's why it was all red? Was she bleeding? Colin didn't know. He only knew he had to help her. He pointed his wand just above Ava's head. "Depulso!"

@Ava Winchect | @Astra Norrick || Everyone else: please feel free to notice Greebo, Colin's black cat. He's friendly, and he likes treats! He's used to chaos, but probably won't appreciate Colin's wild outburst!

Mellani's partner seemed to very much mind the firewhisky, which is why she chose the truth or dare, an option that Mellani had no idea could be chosen, not that she would have chosen it anyways. She drank more of the cider as she noticed her partner kissing another guy. The bottle seemed to love the dark-haired girl.

As she drank the cider, Mell was reminded of how she longed to have something to drown her grief when the whole Olive incident occurred, but she quickly threw that thought out of her head. She was not going to think about Olive. Not today, not ever. Muggle friends did not matter anymore anyways. They had probably even forgotten Mellani existed, after she cut off with them. If only Olive hadn't gotten into that accident...

"Stop", Mellani said to herself softly. Today was not the day to think about that. Maybe it was the alcohol that had brought back Mellani's past grief... She shouldn't have chosen firewhisky, though she was sure she would do it again.

Mellani heard a shout. Looking around she noticed that it had come from Colin, who kept yelling Ava's name and saying something about dark creatures while casting spells everywhere. Mellani really wanted to interrupt, but she wasn't sure what Colin would do if she did. If he would even recognize her or just think she was one of the 'dark creatures' he was casting spells at.

Ava's hair and eyes had turned red which meant... it could only mean one thing, since Ava definitely did not have a wand in her hands. She was a metamorphagus, a creature Mellani had heard of, but never actually known someone who was, not that she minded, but Ava kept saying "I didn't do it" and staring at her hands. Something was definitely wrong. If only Mellani could help both Ava and Colin. If only she was not as scared of Colin as she was at that moment...

Mellani hoped nothing had been added to the cider, because that definitely seemed like the case, and Mellani had carelessly finished more than half her flask. But maybe asking to make sure would not be too bad of an idea. "Matt... I know this is a very weird question, but did you add anything to the cider?"

WIS: 8 ACC: 12 STA: 6 EVA: 8 ARC: 6 STR: 9
Fearless | Muggle Condition

AEIOUSA
His grandfather's ghostly presence was a ghastly reminder of the weight that was laid upon his shoulders since childhood, a weight that seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment of his life.

He took another sip from the flask, feeling the warmth spread through his chest, hoping it would also numb the sting of his grandfather's accusations. The room spun around him, and the laughter of his peers grew distant, replaced by the voices of the old man once again, accompanied by the echoes of his own doubts with himself.

He was beginning to accept how he was not the heir his grandfather had envisioned—his mind too cluttered with modern ideals, too accepting and his heart too soft for the cold cunning of their pureblood legacy, too naive, too trusting of others.

His hand trembled as he lowered the flask, the last drops of liquid courage slipping from the edges to stain his shaking fingers. His grandfather's ghostly visage hovered before him, a silent amalgamation of his family's expectations through the alcohol-induced haze.

Despite his protests, deep down Prat knew the truth of his grandfather's words. Two years at Hogwarts and what did he have to show for it? A few half-hearted duels that ended in loses, mediocre grades that barely reflected the brilliance of his lineage.

A string of nearly negligible forgotten accomplishments, that could simply be overshadowed by the grandeur of his ancestors.

He was average, a term so foreign to his family it was almost a curse for him. Averageness in him was like a blot on a pristine scroll of parchment—always present, forever marring the perfection.

Yet, as the whiskey burned a path through his doubt, he tried clinging to the belief that he could be more than a mere footnote. He had to be. The very idea of being a disappointment to his name was unbearable.


Prat slumped further back into the cushions, the plush fabric enveloping him like a cocoon of his own version of despair.

His grandfather's words remained in his mind, a symphony of words describing his utter failure at everything that he could not escape. He rubbed his temples, feeling the throb of his own inadequacies with each pulse.

The whiskey had done little to dull the pain, instead it amplified the realities of his situation. Alex's absence was a constant ache in his heart, a void he felt grew wider with each day the pair did not seek each other out.

The thought of his soon-to-be sibling brought a bitterness to his lips; it was a bitterness that stemmed not from spite but from fear—fear of being forgotten, of becoming the shadow, of being overlooked for another.

His parents' excitement over the new child was justified and he was a witness to their shared joy, yet he couldn't help but wonder if they secretly hoped that this new life would embody the traits and talent they believed he lacked.

The very family legacy, once a source of pride, now felt like a noose tightening around his neck. In that moment, the now empty flask no longer brought warmth or comfort.

It now served as a harsh reminder, a signal bearer of the truth he had been trying to avoid. He was not the heir his grandfather had hoped for; nor even what he wanted to mold him into, not the friend those around him need , and soon, not the only child his parents had to dote upon.

The room spun around him, the laughter of his fellow Slytherins felt miles away as he felt his own isolation of choosing.

Through the haze of his anguished thoughts, Prat's gaze fell upon the now-empty flask. The warmth and euphoria it had once brought, was now feeling like mockery of the cold truth that seeped into his bones.

His hand trembled as he set it aside, the clank against the floor sounded like a death knell for his self-deception. The whiskey had illuminated his deepest fears and failures, leaving him to face a reality he had so desperately sought to escape.

He was indeed the disappointment in his own eyes, just what his grandfather had called him, the letdown to decades of greatness.

The facade of confidence he had constructed so meticulously over the years lay in ruins at his feet, shattered by the harsh light of truth.

The words from his grandfather had molded themselves into something new entirely, listing his every inadequacy and shortcoming.

He was the one who had let his own relations slip away, the one who couldn't live up to very simple tasks of being good at something, the one who was destined to be overshadowed by a sibling not yet born.

Prat's introspection was shattered as Colin's erratic behavior escalated. The Slytherin's words grew more frantic, his eyes wild and glassy as he flung spells with reckless abandon.

Panic gripped Prat's chest, the room tilting precariously with each uncontrolled burst of magic. His mind, once lost in the labyrinth of his own fears and failures, snapped back to the present with the urgency of the situation.

He had to act, to prevent the impending chaos from engulfing them all, ruining another event. Summoning the last dregs of his sobriety, Prat cast "Anathema Daphnis," at Colin.
Someone had to cease the boy's actions before he brought more harm to the dormmates than fun.

Ava Winchect wrote: 9 Feb 2025, 01:39

trigger warnings: depictions of blood and hysteria within this post

It was like she had been transported to a time long ago, not too far from the room she was sitting in now. Two years ago, she had effectively ruined her life. She could see it clear as day, the silver glint of the dagger in the moonlight, a shadowed vision of herself standing at the edge of Lucian’s bed.

It wasn’t quite the full moon, although she was well aware that it was approaching. That’s why she had decided she needed to make an action so dramatic as this, to protect herself. And others. She couldn’t rest her life on the hope that Mornstern only delivered empty threats to his enemies. Her action was no more dramatic than his.

She could see the phantom’s arm’s shake as she raised the dagger, unprepared and unwilling to make action farther than that. And that was when he woke up, and everything in her life came to an abrupt halt. But no, the phantom wasn’t stopping. Lucian wasn’t waking.

She still wasn’t on good terms with him, but she rushed to her phantom’s side, realizing she didn’t remember standing up. She saw the phantom’s face, a smile curled with malice, plunging the dagger into Lucian’s chest.

“This isn’t how it happened!” Ava sobbed, eyes scrambling across the scene. Lucian’s chest didn’t rise again, and the dagger, her hands. Dark crimson, almost black. It coated her hands, the weight of the consequences a crushing weight that brought her to her hands and knees as the world around her spun with dizzying speed, the phantom looming above her head.

“I didn’t mean to,” she informed Lucian’s lifeless form, fingers lingering a breath away from his body. Dark stains spread over those stupid pajamas that had only served as proof to her two years ago that he had his own life. He deserved to live.

“Yes, you did.” Her own voice informed her a breathy laugh that was nothing like her own floating past her ears. “You were simply too weak.”

“I did what was right,” Ava tried to convince herself, eyes unmoving from Lucian. The moonlight from the window cast shadows onto his body, the moonlight he and Colin would never roam through together again.

Colin. She couldn’t will herself to look at his own bed, although she knew what she would find. Her phantom informed her of the sight, that same laugh cursing her ears as Ava began to clutch at her head.

“Colin is dead, and it’s all your fault.” The dagger flipped like a coin, spinning through the air before landing back in the clutches of the shadow. Flip. Flip.

“No he’s not, I just saw him!” She informed everyone. Flip. Flip. “He’s not dead!

“He looks pretty dead to me.” Flip. Flip. Flip.

“You’re wrong.”

“Maybe. But what if you’re wrong?” Flip. Flip.

“You’re wrong!” Ava stumbled to her feet. She had to get out, she couldn’t stay here any longer. She stumbled to the edge of the room, vision clearing enough so she could see Colin shooting off spells for a moment. She could see him as she stumbled toward him.

“Colin! Oof!” she pushed into someone in her rush toward Colin, effectively sending them both crashing to the floor. Before they even collided, she saw the person she had collided turn into Lucian, eyes closed, chest still.

She scrambled back, blood draining from her face as she desperately backed away, grasping onto whatever shred of her sanity was remaining. What was she meant to do? Leave him there? No, she had to get him somewhere else, other than this horror room.

She gripped his shirt, dragging him barely a few inches before she lost her grip and fell backwards. She had failed.

She was a failure.

TLDR: panik
Action: trying to pull Lucian (Prat) to the door

[quote] Once in a past that no longer seemed relevant Archer had a herbal medicine that burned in his chest. He remembered very little of it, as he did most things from his early childhood. Yet that was exactly how the moonshine tasted like. Which was to say it was no enjoyable drink. Still he downed it like he had seen his parents after a particularly taxing day because apparently the char down his throat was the answer to all his issues.

Perhaps it was.

But for the meantime, it at most slowed his reaction as he was approached by a girl he did not recognise.

Astra, despite her enthusiasm to converse, and despite her wit of knowing to stay out of the scandalous game of spin the bottle, would only receive disappointingly lacklustre answers. Eyes trailing over the mau that rubbed against her legs affectionately he seemed to have a distant memory of the name though it was probably a mention at most if at all. Of course, Archer’s mind could hardly be trusted with anything anymore so even if he had “Hermes is a little shit” remembered it would be long gone already. Giving Astra merely a one word response as his mind wandered elsewhere, “Zeno.”

Just when Archer thought he could be spared from the trivial small talk tonight he was reminded it was the exact reason why he had joined this celebration - though that was hardly the word for the blatant nightmare in front of him. “Yes,” he said simply. As his next duel loomed so menacingly in the horizon he still was uncertain what to do. Prat might understand if he had to step out of this one, but he knew removing himself from all his obligations would be allowing the grief to define him once more. Unlike the repetitive work of the Headliner’s printing machine duelling was a position that not only required thought but physical dexterity - two things he probably hopelessly lacked.

“I’m sorry-”

The words just slipped out of his mouth. He had heard it so many times already he didn’t even know what he was apologising for. Archer was used to awkward conversations enough; he had only been schooled in decorum to survive introductions at pureblood gatherings, not to carry a conversation when it inevitably veered away from the subjects in his forte. Yet today it went beyond the simple issue of not being smooth-tongued enough. The fire from the drink had not yet been entirely doused, but even if he had not been under the influence of alcohol the conversation would not have gone in directions any more hopeful.

“I don’t really think I would be the best at conversation right now.…Loss in the family.”

Archer was no Matthew, not the boy who seemed so composed even when the whole world was against him. Not the boy who now laughed and pranced around, sharing jokes and cider. Not the boy who was always quick to reassure with that aura of calm he magically possessed. “I try though,” he said quietly, shooting the girl a hopeful glance despite knowing constantly putting up with his aloofness must have been disheartening if not straight up obnoxious. Despite their painfully shared experiences Matthew was still light as air while Archer believed himself nothing more than a burden to everyone he brushed shoulders against, his grief worming its way into their life as malicious as a spilt ink pot on fresh parchment.

Eyes trailing away from his only company as the sudden pounce of his tabby on invisible prey left him startled. “Zeno?” Archer called, reaching forward with both hands as he gave a valiant attempt trying to beckon the defiant cat back into his lap. Instead the tabby only lifted his head higher in typical pride, sniffing the air as his tail swung behind him. Letting out a defeated groan he slumped against Matt’s bedside, looking back towards Astra unsoundly. He regretted joining this damn party, regretted even coming out here despite how eager Zeno seemed — probably for how eager Zeno seemed, otherwise he would be long gone.

A sharp sting barged into Archer’s head at both temples. In spite of a temperament seemingly completely indifferent to the outside world inside the hell of his mind had been a never ending chase, the mundane game of a childish cop and criminal escalating steeply towards brawling. However long it had been as the days trudged pass, he had been at the centre of a constant cycle of self-blame, misery, and helplessness that often ebbed into a terrifyingly uncontrollable anger. He detested his detestation, absolutely abhorred how irrational this torrent of emotions led him to feel, how no book or graph gave him the answers he so desperately sought. Strengthened by the lack of sleep everything had been turned upside down and inside out, everything he knew shrivelled and inversed under the relentless flames singed into the back of his eyelids. If not for the soft support of Matthew’s mattress behind him he would have fallen but gripping it tightly. Whether the pain was the work of alcohol or his own thoughts — likely a sick combination, he knew — he was grateful for how it drowned out everything else and left him in a strange, wounded peace.

Spells suddenly flew across the room. Housemates talked to no one in particular. A girl was turning red - perhaps figuratively but most definitely literally. Bewilderment bled into pain as they settled into some horrendous soup in Archer’s mind, who took downed the other glass of whiskey. The taste was cinnamon twang tasted like the powdered spices once sprinkled into delicately prepared stuffed capsicums. Smiling bitterly at the complete irony of the taste of home going up in flames in his throat, his body slackened in surrender against this fight and he ignored the presence of everything else. Spells suddenly flew across the room and he decided he could not give a damn as he closed his eyes against the chaos.

@Astra Norrick

What was that expression his father so often used; When it rains it pours. Well rain would have been significantly useful right now for instead of water the room was beginning to rain fire shot from the tip of Colin's wand. Prat was being dragged against his will having been knocked down by some kind of blood red variant of Ava revealing her to be a metamorphmagus to him much like Tracey. Archer was throwing back firewhisky like he wanted to drown in it and Aamon's face was contorted murderously levelling itself on him like it had been at the start of the evening. All of this was equally terrible but the pièce de résistance came when @Mellani Miller grabbed a hold of him in the chaos and panic and asked "Matt... I know this is a very weird question, but did you add anything to the cider?"

To put it lightly he was utterly screwed. Matt was a worrier, always had been his entire life, part of the problem when you grow up isolated and for the vast majority alone. Yet he prided himself on his ability to combat the demons of his own mind, locked away in the confines of dark corners he created in his head but every so often something would happen and those imprisoned whispers of debilitating voices would break free. He would feel utterly overwhelmed with the sheer mass of the situation and it would build and build until he had completely lost control. It was like his body and mind ceased to function any longer and once he was on the spiral there was no stopping it, the trajectory was launched, he was ready to freefall into fate.

All starting with her words, "Oh em I didn't know, I- I mean I didn't mean to do it. Someone must have slipped something in the vials over the last month, I swear it wasn't me. I didn't mean for this to happen, I swear you have to believe me. I don't know for sure what it is but it's floral, aromatic definitely not poison more of a hallucinogen I think." Urging out every syllable desperate for the girl to believe him he felt his heartbeat begin to race feeling stuck in his throat like he was struggling to breath, his wind pipe and chest tight under the pressure. An undercurrent of dread that had been building was now beginning to overwhelm the senses making his vision blur into a tunnel and knocking him off balance slightly stumbling.

His slight tumble making him reach out to grab something, anything, any kind of anchor to weather this storm and it did but when his vision came to and he was met with the devastated face of @Aamon Athanatos he knew instantly that his admission had not been private. The hurt on the boys face was heart wrenching and told his panicked mind that regardless of his begging he didn't believe them, did any of them, what reason had they to? The fear and anxiety was growing so intense it was rendering him entirely useless but he quickly released the arm of Aamon he had grabbed and began cathartically twisting his ring methodically as he did so often. Nothing was working the rising drowning never stopped no matter what, he felt cut off from his mothers gift and he was beginning to feel adrift from reality itself.

Fire was beginning to flitter up the curtains of the dorm and once it caught the beds the whole place would be alight so why was no one doing anything? Why was the world moving so slowly but his heart racing uncontrollably. Words and sounds muffling incoherently in his ears and breath hitched stuck inside as he felt himself fall to his knees the world a blur or streaked light and panicked bodies. Somewhere detached he felt his mouth open and lips begin to form words but his ears could not process the sound, "What have I done?" To himself it was the amalgamation of his slide from the seething anger he entered with to the now distraught panic state he lived but to the rest of the room it seemed to be an admission of guilt.

Matthew's hands and feet were beginning to tingle in a numbing sensation only further distancing himself from his body like he was some kind of passenger in the vessel while innumerable tears streamed down his face. Chaos, spells and tragedy befalling those in the room around him and the new commers now aware that in moments they too could be experiencing whatever delusions were plaguing the cider consumers. As the numbness threatened to destroy him and the boy found himself verging on the edge of the panic attack that had been brewing he suddenly stilled. Warm, gentle hands so soft they felt like clouds brushed carefully away at his cheeks. An anchor. Opening his eyes he saw a woman kneeling before him, long golden locks with richer roots tied in a low pony, glistening amber earrings that dangled off her earlobes and a glowing face radiating all the serenity the world found capable. A woman he had only seen in print, heard through stories.

Kneeling across from him easing his pain was his mother. "It's not your fault my love. You need to breath."

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LIGHT MODERATION

NOTE FOR ALL: Dialogue from Matthew is spoken out loud into the room and all members present who choose to can decide to hear if you believe your character would have. Knowing the hallucinations are hallucinations does not stop their potency and remember many of you are drunk and delirious too experiencing confusion and euphoria.

As @Colin McCoire began to unleash a maelstrom of spells against the legion of shadows he would envision a battle between himself and a legion of unending shadow. However, with the reality of the situation being hallucinatory his spells would cause more damage than intended. Two small fires have been ignited basking the room with heat and illuminating the place. One is merely a small pillow that is smoking but the secondary has caught one of the curtains at the window ledge and if left unattended will quickly spread to the nearest bed. Colin making it to the centre of the room as far away from shadows is all of a sudden rooted as the quick thinking duelling captain @Prat Pass transfigured flesh into bark with an impressive ease. In Colins warped mind he would see the wood overcoming him as dark bile and shadow withering away at his skin and preventing him from moving.

As soon as Prat has cast his spell he is permitted no time for reward as @Ava Winchect topples him to the ground sending his wand flying in the process across the floor. Unhurt but dazed by the upended gravity he turned around to see the wild girl having a breakdown and clutching at him desperately and despite trying to break free from her vice grip he begins to be dragged away by the girl who's blood red hair and eyes are glossed over lost deep to a historic tragedy of what could have been. Ava herself finds herself desperately trying to get Lucian (Prat) out of the room seeing the floor all around them stained with the evidence of her crime. Lucian's body weighed heavy in her hands but she would succeed in dragging him, she had to. Someone had to be able to help them surely.