The Masquerade Ball Event Closed

Interactions: @Dymphna Teague | @Katrina Walker | @Bridget Collins
Mentions: Everything else... 

Thora breathed a sign of relief as the boy on the floor was promptly put out. At least he could get away and maybe get to the Hospital Wing. It was bad enough that he had been literally burning up, but this mess of half-giants was no place to be, especially due to his rather... critical condition. The girl's very temporary feeling of relief was incredibly short-lived, though, as a fire immediately sparked, its orange and yellow flames adding to the destructive first fire. The worst part? The orange and yellow flames appeared right where Thora had been pointing just a moment before. No, no, no. There was no way this was happening.

Thora smacked her forehead as best she could with her free hand. How could she have cast Extinguo wrong? It wasn't even that hard, and of all the things she could've done, she had made another fire. Nausea rose in her throat. What had she done? The young perfectionist shook her mind as if to clear it, setting her jaw. Even though she had basically killed the party with her fire, she would not give up. She needed to end this. 

"Bridget, how do we make Ext--" Thora turned to her rather knowledgeable friend to ask about the Extinguishing Spell, as she had little doubt that Bridget wouldn't know about it. Just then, a flying object crashed into the brunette standing next to her. The two figures landed in a heap on the ground. As the two people on the floor lay stiller than she would've liked, Thora heard her name being screamed from across the room. "Bridget," the petite girl pleaded, pulling on her friend's arm. "Are you okay down there?" Thora's futile attempts weren't enough to pull Bridget from underneath the bigger girl, as she was neither big nor strong. 

Praying that Bridget could figure things out alone, Thora spun around. Who would know her name? There were probably about five--well, maybe fifteen--people that could call her by name, and she wasn't partial to many. There, a girl about her age was beckoning her over. Katrina Walker. Great. What did the Gryffindor want with her? Katrina stood over an unmoving body, who looked like an older blonde girl--maybe a third year?

A disgustingly loud crack alerted her to more disaster. What she thought was something else breaking turned out to be the door finally giving way, to her relief. Two rather strong-looking boys pushed the door open, breaking it in the process. A glimpse of a tiny girl being trampled was all she saw of the results before she dashed towards... Smoke. Suddenly, the acrid smell of smoke filled her nostrils and made her eyes stung. Hacking out desperate coughs, Thora tried to walk forward, arms out, but to no avail. She was hopelessly lost. 

Just when her vision started to clear even the slightest bit, bright, bloodred sparks filled the room and blinded her. Great. Thora didn't dare crawl for fear that someone would trample her--after all, she had already seen what had happened last time someone got trampled my dNPC, Karilyna Kawahara and didn't want the same fate to befall her. So, standing helpless, Thora willed her eyesight to return. She knew Ferula, a feat not easy--she wasn't sure how many people new the Bandaging Spell--especially for a second year. She needed to help people, even if social interactions were her greatest weakness.

To her disgust, her vision was still strangely clouded a full two minutes later. Was she hallucinating? Was she dead? Thora certainly hoped not. Trusting her not-so-great hearing, the Slytherin followed the sound of Katrina's voice, trying not to trip over the bleeding girl on the floor. Finally, at long last, her vision cleared I'm assuming that this is allowed, owl me if it is not and the snek breathed a sigh of relief, only to choke on a gasp of shock as she spotted the pretty blonde girl on the floor, eyes closed and bleeding profusely.

Thora stopped just in front of Katrina, her former-friend-but-now-nemesis. It was kind of complicated. "Hey, Katrina," Thora greeted the Gryffindor briskly, barely remembering to send the girl a glance. Friend or foe, she didn't want to brush her off, but there were more important things to tend to. She didn't exactly like Katrina because of perfectly justified reasons, but she supposed she could put her differences aside for now, even if just for one day. Thora did not give up her pride easily. First, the girl on the ground. Katrina had already pulled the scary-looking spear out of the poor blonde, and Thora pulled out her aspen wand. This had to work. Someone's life was actually on the line. 

"Okay, everybody get out of the way, please," Thora tried to act confident, but her voice just wouldn't let her. Crouching down next to the hurt girl--she looked like a third year, up close--Thora closed her eyes. Please work, please work, please work. "Ferula," Thora pronounced clearly, tapping the girl as lightly as she could. She didn't need to cause even more damage than she already had. "I've got this," Thora smiled up at anyone who was watching. There was much more to be done--Thora could stay here at least until the girl opened her eyes. At this point, she seemed to be unconscious, but one could never tell.

Action || Cast Ferula on @Dymphna Teague 

Even over the background noise of panicking students, Elaine heard the half-giant she'd aimed her spell at going down with a crash. Good. One immediate threat eliminated, two more remaining – at least if she assumed that the second half-giant boy and the Ilvermorny Headmaster were the only hostile entities left in the ballroom. It didn't seem likely at the moment.

Two students had managed to break the doors, letting a gust of fresh air into the hall that did nothing to calm the hysteria that was masses of students screaming amid fire and smoke. A dragon would have caused less of a frenzy, she thought, if only because one couldn't miss it and even the obtuse students usually had enough of a survival instinct to run when they saw one. In here however, vision had been reduced to a minimum. Somebody, most likely a younger student, had cast a Periculum that made stars dance before her eyes – excellent form, albeit a bit of a poor choice of spell considering the overall situation – and the smoke was too thick to have an entirely natural cause. Smoke-Screen Spell, then.

Elaine's dress was too bulky and impractical to go running around the ballroom. Not only would it trip students, but she also doubted that she would do much good. One more yelling voice wouldn't make much of a difference to all the panicked children, even if it was a Professor's. Engaging the second half-giant was also out of the question in these conditions.

Wand still in hand she turned, using her left hand to open the top button of her high collar both to give herself room to breathe and to let the beady black eyes of ink on the back of her hand get a view of the room. Another shadow claimed the newly created space on her throat, a canine muzzle offering the illusion of protection if nothing else. Breathe, be calm. It wouldn't do to lose her composure now.

"Control your students, Headmaster," she reprimanded Mr. Plott cooly, voice raised so she knew the man would hear even if they couldn't see each other clearly through the smoke. She was still uneasy about having him move too far away from her person. "One could get the impression that you are letting dangerous half-creatures roam about our school untethered."

She didn't have the time to consider what his game was. Instead, Elena raised her wand again, this time aiming for the unnaturally thick, black smoke engulfing the ballroom. The most vital problems came first, and breathable air was the highest on her priority list right now. Aiming at the smoke she cast another spell. "Evanesco."

Interactions: @Andrew Vance, Any nearby moving paintings and/or ghosts.

Mentions: Anyone still in the hallway

Permission has been given to play as Andrew Vance since they are currently unavailable due to family emergency. PM in Discord:

Andrew Vance 11/02/2019 at 8:50 PM I have a family emergency. [cutting out what the emergency is, as it's not my place to share] Would like to get a post out for the Ball but I...just can't right now.      I give you permission to god-mod Andrew in your posts, if necessary.  I trust your judgement.

Action: Heather and Andrew have made it out into the hallway. They're calling for any painting or ghost nearby to alert the professors to the danger and summon any house-elves to evacuate the students from the ballroom.

Mentioning: @Max Avery and @Katrina Walker
Interacting With: @Maya Galim
Open to more interactions

Interacting with @Adlai Rod Open to more interactions!

Interacting with @Leah Isbell

Actions: Shoe + face = nunight

Lark had been trying to go over every possible way to help in her mind, fingers tightening around a piece of Dale's sleeve as more smoke and flames danced around the room. It seemed like one would go out only for another to spark back up in another place... people were yelling, screaming, coughing... running by.. crashes in the distance from what Lark couldn't say as her vision was completely blurred from the tears now pouring from her eyes as the smoke assaulted her senses. Were they going to get out of here? Where were the other Professors?

"G.Gem..?" She choked out wanting to say more but her throat closing and lungs burned as soon as she opened her mouth. She could've sworn she heard her friend off in the distance. Were they all okay? Something was moving, something making her arm bob... what the?

"Dale???" Lark let go and leaned back as a flash blinded her. Blinking her vision clear, or as clear as it was going to get, she saw Dale's feet instantly begin to move about. Oh no... had the spell backfired?

"How can I stop-"

CRACK!

Blinding dots of light filtered into the girl's vision as she stumbled back, her hands instantly shooting up to cover her face. A nasty ringing noise split through her mind and made Lark stumble forward to her knees. Something had smacked her right in the middle of her face?! Lark didnt have any time to react further, a dark shadow veiling her eyesight as she slumped to the floor. The screaming started to fade away... voices trickling from her ears like water in a tiny stream, pouring onto the dancefloor as her head hit the wooden flooring. Maybe... maybe it was over.. she couldn't smell smoke anymore. Had they beat the kidnappers...? Had they...

A vision of the girl's father standing outside on the platform shrouded her mind.. wrapping her in a warm sensation. "Im..I'm sorry..."Her voice barely above a whisper, the dream seeming more real than the fire that she had just been surrounded by. Why hadn't she hugged her father before she left? Said she loved him.. let him ruffle her hair and send her on her way with a smile... no.. she had gone about her goodbyes all wrong.. and now she would have no chance to make up for it.

Darkness took the girl as the image of her father's cold eyes and frown seeped away from her thoughts..

Lark is unconscious

INTERACTIONS: @Ruthie Greer
MENTIONS: @Jorah Moussa

Well, that hadn't been Adam's smartest decision ever. Maybe he needed a good whack on the head in order to get his brain working right again; this much, though, was excessive. The worst part was that it was all his own fault. He'd charged right up in front of the guy at the door (who had to be some kind of giant, judging by the strength of his fists) and then he'd just stood there. His plan had been to help Jorah, but instead they'd both been hit. Giants: 1, Ravenclaw boys: 0.

It was hard to tell where he'd landed after being hit, especially with the rising cloud of smoke billowing around him. When had that happened? Some of it could be natural, he supposed, but it wasn't too hard to believe that someone had cast a Smokescreen Spell to try and help. Although it was probably well-intentioned, the smoke only made things more complicated, and it was going to be a while before Adam regained his bearings. He didn't think he'd been thrown very far, but his feet had definitely left the ground, if only for a second. That was the hardest he had ever been hit in his life. Lying on the cold floor of the ballroom, Adam tried to keep still and make note of what was hurting before he tried anything more.

Unfortunately, everything was hurting. The giant's swipe felt like it had crumpled his ribcage, and the parts of him still intact after the blow were the first to make impact with the floor. There was no evident bleeding, so he supposed that part was good. Even still, Adam was far from okay. His shoulder ached from where it had hit the stone, making it uncomfortable to move his wand arm. His legs felt unsteady; it was going to be a real chore to try and stand up. He knew that he'd be covered in bruises for weeks to come, maybe even months. To top everything off, the blonde boy could hardly breathe. The giant had knocked the wind out of him, the floor finishing the job, and the smoke above his head had started to replace the clean air in the room. It was looking pretty bad all around.

He wasn't out of danger yet, though, and it was this knowledge that forced Adam to keep moving when all he wanted to do was lie down. Slowly, he rolled over onto his stomach, a grimace replacing the smile that usually adorned the Ravenclaw's face. Propping himself up on one arm, Adam had to wince and clutch at his sore sides, wobbling unsteadily as he did so. Finally, when he had pushed himself up to his knees, Adam turned his thoughts back to the situation around him.

The smoke hanging above his head made it dangerous to stand up. He knew he'd just get lost in the darkness, so Adam decided to stay close to the ground and avoid as much of it as possible. With that obstacle in the way, he could barely see three feet in front of him, which meant he was going to have to start moving if he wanted to get out of here. Fumbling for his wand, Adam found it resting by his shoe, amazed that he had managed to hold onto it for so long. He thought for sure he would've lost his grip upon being hit. Well, that explained why his fingers hurt so much. Holding the tool out in front of him, he started to shuffle through the smoke, inching forward across the floor. Eventually, the boy realized it was easier to crawl, so he dropped down to all fours and headed for what he thought was the direction of the door.

After a few seconds, the smoke gained a red tinge; before Adam could look away, the bright light burned through the haze and seared his eyes. He really should've known better by this point, his second blinding of the year. It was that damn Sparks Spell every time. Wondering why anyone would have cast that, Adam squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ignore the spots dancing across the back of his eyelids. He'd gotten through this before, he could do it again. Moving forward even more slowly this time, distracted by the blotches that the spell had left in his vision, he tried to crawl his way out of this smoky hell. Once he could see again, he could go back and help his classmates. The shouts and crashes all around him hadn't let up, and he wanted so badly to come to the rescue, but that was a useless notion if he didn't know who he was rescuing -- or what he was rescuing them from.

His thought process was violently interrupted when a foot came swinging out of the dark smoke, nearly taking off his head. Adam jerked backwards to avoid being hit again and fell right onto his butt, squinting into the cloud to see what was lurking there. There was a figure moving fervently in place, a silhouette behind the wall of smoke, dancing around like they were in some sort of musical. Moving forward carefully, wary of the flying feet, Adam slowly recognized his housemate Ruthie Greer. Her face was hard to see -- behind the mask, through the smoke, and through the holes burned into his eyesight -- but he was pretty confident that it was Ruthie in front of him.

Unless she was that unwilling to let go of the ball, it looked like Ruthie had been hit with the Dancing Charm. It had always seemed like a very silly jinx, but Adam could see how it would be inconvenient in situations like this. Realizing that he could help the first-year out, Adam held his wand out unsteadily in front of him, trying to point in the general direction of the Ravenclaw girl. His aim was even worse than usual, but he would try his best. Briefly massaging his sore jaw, he brought his hand down to steady his wand arm and called out the proper incantation. "Finite Incantatem!"

He knew that Ruthie and Jorah were good friends. If he could stop her from dancing, maybe she'd double back with him to find the other Ravenclaw boy. Adam was worried about him; Jorah had been hit just as hard, and it hadn't even occurred to the blond to look for him after he'd landed. Well, he could only help one person at a time, he supposed. It was ridiculous to think he could save everyone from the blaze, or the giants, or the rest of this crazy night.

But he could try his hardest.

ACTION: Cast Finite Incantatem at Ruthie Greer

Ruthie felt like an idiot when Professor Galim announced that spells didn't work on giants. She'd wasted her time. She'd wasted a spell while Jorah was in peril. And to make matters worse, substituting an "e" for an "a" sound had caused her spell to backfire. Her feet had quickly launched into a soft reel. Thankfully, it was nothing too complex--just the Gay Gordon's, a simple Scottish country dance you'd learn at school, rather than say an Irish hardshoe jig which would require significantly more time and energy. Still it was was quite annoying. With every turn, she'd kept an eye out for Jorah and prayed he'd managed to hit his attacker, but when the crack of his bat didn't come, she doubted he'd made any damage at all.

Thankfully, she wasn't the only one in the fray. Several people had come in their direction to attack the giants and protect her date. Many of them she didn't know, but she had a good feeling she would likely be friends with them by the time this entire ordeal was over. Dymphna and Adam had come over and addressed her directly; Ravenclaws always flocked together, she knew that from Quidditch. And she was so glad to see them. Not only were they both lovely people, but they were older and wiser, likely equipped with more advanced magic, which was necessary in this time of peril. As Dymph shot a spell to turn the giant into a shrub, Ruthie couldn't help but muster a half-hug for the girl. "I've never been so glad to see you--and you Adam," she smiled at them both. But that as about as much time for niceties as she had.

As she released Dymph from her embrace, she saw the giant swipe both Adam and Jorah with its hand. It was a savage hit, knocking them both off their feet. "No!" she screamed, watching her boys, her wonderful beaters take such an awful hit. She tried to run towards them, but it was a fools errand as her jig slowed her significantly. "Can someone stop this ruddy dancing so I can do something useful?!" she called, hoping someone might come to her aid. Thankfully, it was Adam who shot Finite Incantatemin her direction. She looked up to acknowledge him, but knew she'd need to thank him properly later once everything had settled, assuming this all went right. With everything going on, she was truly grateful he'd chosen to help her out amongst the chaos.

She was looking around for her savior, when she saw a large spear heading right towards her and her Ravenclaw Keeper. "Dymph, duck!" she yelled, but it was too late. Before she knew it, the spear had lodged itself through the older girl's body. Immediately, she slid to on her stomach and glided over to her, feet still behind her. "Dymph..." she said slowly, looking over the wound, while she could feel her eyes behind to tear up from some combination of the smoke and her own upset demeanor. First Jorah, then Adam, now Dymph...the world seemed to be getting smaller.

But from the way Dymph was bleeding out, she knew she had to do something. She noticed another student come and cast an advanced healing spell [Thora], after another had removed the spear [Katrina] and Ruthie nodded at them both in thanks, crossing her fingers it would work. But in the chance didn't--it was dark now after all with the fumos--she wanted to have a back up plan. Through the darkness, she noticed they were near a table. On her elbows, she manouvered over and flipped it on its side before dragging it over closer to Dymph. In this way, she managed to create a make-shift shelter for the two of them. "It's okay, just stay with me, stay with us," she told her friend, knowing full well it might not be, but she prefered to err on the side of positivity. "How's bad's the pain?" she questioned as she tore off a portion of the table cloth to create a kind of bandage or tourniquet. "Sit up if you can," she instructed while wrapping the fabric around the older girl's torso. She was no expert--she was just a kid--but she had seen how the fisherman would bandage themselves after an unfortunate accident at sea. They were usually dealing with an arm or a leg, but the spear had hit where it had, unfortunately. Ruthie pressed her hand against Dymph's abdomen to keep the bandage in place. The blood almost immediately showed through her dress and the bandage, but Ru wasn't about to give up. She held her hand there firmly and pressed hard. Soon, it seemed as through Dymph was fluctuating in and out of consciousness. As much as Ruthie wanted to look over the table and see how Jorah was doing, she didn't want to risk it. She trusted him--she trusted him more than anyone else her age. Besides, Dymph needed someone to stay with her. Sisters before misters, after all.

Interacting with: @Dymphna Teague, @Jorah Moussa & @Adam Harringtom | Mentions: @Thora Larkston & @Katrina Walker | Open to further interactions
ACTION: Flip over a table to provide shelter for Dymph and help stop her from bleeding with a make-shift bandage.