The Bathrooms
ꕤ ꕤ ꕤ |
| ꕤ ꕤ ꕤ |
❤︎❤︎❤︎
Reducio𝕿𝖍𝖊 bathrooms were among the few spaces in the Augury Cloister that lacked its signature opulence. There was of course marble and gilded fixtures, but there was a familiar humble to this space that was faintly scented of lavender. Just a row of spotless private stalls, each one closed off with paneled doors of pale wood, and a line of simple, wall-mounted sinks. The lighting was soft and even, with no flicker, no shadow. A space that seemed oddly sterile for a place so steeped in decadence.
Two details, however, stood out.
The first: not a single mirror graced the walls. Not above the sinks, not along the corridor, not even a sliver of glass to catch one’s reflection. It was conspicuous by its absence, unsettling in a way that one couldn’t quite name. The space felt unwatched, and yet not quite private. The air held a hush, as though something within the walls was listening instead of looking.
The second oddity sat in the southwestern corner. There stood a delicate silver filigree table that looked as though it had been plucked from a dressing room in Versailles. Upon it rested an eclectic arrangement of bottles, some unmistakably perfumes, others far harder to classify. A few bore faded labels in curling script in a language that few would know. [Must know the language of Veela to know what is written.] One or two glowed faintly. There were tiny vials, pots of powder, a lacquered compact with no mirror, and a narrow jar of something dark and iridescent, stoppered tight.
They did not appear placed for convenience, but display. Not a single one had been touched.
The table invited curiosity. Or perhaps, it lured it.
Mini Game: Beautification Project
On the table in the corner of the bathroom there was a table with a variety of beauty products. These were rare, incredibly over-priced novelty products that are available for guest use.
3 of these products can be used as a mundane or a magical action. Some have random elements involved and therefore will require rolls.
- Manegro XL: immediate thick, long hair. So long it drags in the floor behind the user.
- Falsies: Cartoonish long, thick, dark eyelashes
- Contact Coloration: Changes eye color. This is a randomly assigned color.
Roll a 1d20 to determine the color.
1. Salmon
2. Crimson
3. HotPink
4. OrangeRed
5. Orange
6. Gold
7. DarkKhaki
8. Thistle
9. MediumPurple
10. Indigo
11. Chartreuse
12. SeaGreen
13. MediumAquamarine
14. DarkCyan
15. Cyan
16. Turquoise
17. SkyBlue
18. Cornsilk
19. Peru
20. GhostWhite- Lady in Lace: Outfit becomes a very frilly dress (several dress examples, it is randomly assigned).
- The Dapper Man: Outfit becomes an over the top suit (several examples, it is randomly assigned).
Roll a 1d10 to determine the outfit.
1. Suit 1 - Purple Pimp Suit
2. Suit 2 - Green Pimp Suit
3. Suit 3 - Sunset Suit
4. Suit 4 - Sunflower Suit
5. Suit 5 - Wisteria Suit
6. Suit 6 - Victorian Lad in Shorts
7. Suit 7 - Blue Victorian Floral
8. Suit 8 - Grey Victorian
9. Suit 9 - Hugh Hefner as a Vampire?
10. Suit 10 - Tux with a Train (comes in [1] Black, [2] Cherry, [3] Burgundy, [4] Green and [5] Grey - roll to determine the color.)- Lipstick: acts like a lip filler as well as war paint. Several colors available.
Roll a 1d20 to determine the color.
1. Salmon
2. Crimson
3. HotPink
4. OrangeRed
5. Orange
6. Gold
7. DarkKhaki
8. Thistle
9. MediumPurple
10. Indigo
11. Chartreuse
12. SeaGreen
13. MediumAquamarine
14. DarkCyan
15. Cyan
16. Turquoise
17. SkyBlue
18. Cornsilk
19. Peru
20. GhostWhite
Some stories should never be told...
The Bathrooms
Arrived from the Ballroom
Warning: The following scene can be perceived as domestic abuse. In this scene Gideon is dragging Taylor from the fireplace to the bathrooms in what appears to be a rage. If these sorts of scenes induce distress, please consider skipping Gideon-based threads in this event because most of them will be distressing.
Reducio
Gideon burst into the bathroom like a storm through stained glass, ramming the door with his knee and dragging Taylor behind him by the wrist. Taylor was not one to go easily or quietly for that matter, her heels scraping tile, her voice raised in protest, striking back at him felt like a spark against dry parchment. She fought. She clawed. And still, he did not let go. He couldn't unless he wanted to lose her, to let her die or suffer a fate far worse.
His face was flushed a furious red, but it wasn’t anger alone, beneath it, his heart pounded with something far more poisonous: fear. For all of his posturing and his cruel games, he felt something with her that was deeper and more personal than a conventional social bond. He loved her. Not in the way he loved Finnegan, his alleged boyfriend. No, that was a good time. Something that felt good, was never going to last and even if it could he did not want it to. Or so he told himself. He never wanted to truly attach himself to anyone and the fact he felt like this now was a worse hell than anything he could inflict on his victims.
Even when Taylor twisted suddenly and tried to sink her teeth into his arm, he wouldn’t flinch. Wouldn’t slow. He would barely feel it. The pain was nothing compared to the weight of what might already be inside her.
The bathroom was cold, unremarkable. Clean stalls. Bare walls. No mirrors, of course not. This was the Augury. They knew better. The reflection in water and on glass was dangerous enough, there was no need to set up a firing squad in their places of worship.
Gideon shoved open the last stall with his shoulder and forced Taylor in, letting the door slam behind them like the clang of a cell. If Taylor tried to run, he would grab her hair and turn her head towards the bowl. If she screamed, he didn’t answer. This was necessary he reminded himself. Gideon's hands trembled as he pulled his wand from its holster. No explanation. No soft words. There was no time.
He raised the wand, breath shallow, eyes wild. “Slugus Eructo,” he snapped.
The stall filled with a sharp crack of magic, the incantation ripping through the air like a whip. It was a curse in most cases, a cruel spell used to make someone gag. That part was unchanged, this spell was misery. But years ago someone discovered a cure for the change, the metamorphic process of becoming a hag. They only faintly understood hag biology, having suffered from those women for generations. The only option for them until that point was destruction of the asset, or woman. Be it death, imprisonment, long term medical care. The alternative was a madwoman, dangerous and violent and of course hungry. It was why women should never be trusted, not entirely. But he had caught this one in time he believed. This was not an act of cruelty, this was a desperate extraction. A purging. A wrenching from the edge of the abyss.Magical Action: Casting the slug-vomiting charm
He muttered, voice shaking. “You were just going to let it happen… weren’t you?” The words weren’t cruel. They were broken. Horrified. “You would’ve let it eat you alive.”
His hands hovered near her shoulders, unsure whether to hold her or shield himself. The spell had been cast.
Note: Further posts will wait until others arrive and/or moderation occurs.
The Bathrooms
Warning: The following scene can be perceived as domestic abuse. In this scene Gideon is dragging Taylor from the fireplace to the bathrooms in what appears to be a rage. If these sorts of scenes induce distress, please consider skipping this post because it will be distressing.
Reducio
Gideon crashed through the bathroom door with Taylor in tow. Taylor would attempt to grab the doorframe, letting out a shriek as she lost her grip. She would stumble into the bathroom, tripping over her long skirt. The sound of a tear as a heel caught fabric.
In the ballroom, guests would hear the muffled noise of Gideon breeching the furthest stall. An uncomfortable, perhaps theatrical incident.
In the bathroom, a seemingly neutral place that lacked the celebratory palate of the remainder of the venue, it was as if they had been transported to yet another destination. Taylor continued to fight with Giddy. When he pushed through the stall door, she pounded the side with her hip, causing the hinges to rattle violently. “Let go of me, you psychotic bastard!” she howled in a thick Russian accent, all vowels sharpened like blades. Her voice cracked not from emotion, but from force. Her knees hit the tile hard, she had no intention of staying but a hand grabbed the hair at the back of her head.
The damn toilet. She knew what was coming, what he thought. “You want to drown me?! In toilet?! At wedding?! THIS is your big romance, Gideon?!”
The spell struck or missed her mid-sentence.
Note: Further posts will wait until others arrive and/or moderation occurs.
iNPC of Aamon Athanatos
The Bathrooms
Clark had only followed his dad in to just witness the wedding of some old people that were apparently still in school; Winnie and Mathias. He was definitely not there to cheer them on, but he was still obligated to be there. As a boy who simply couldn't avoid disaster, he wasn't trusted to stay home alone. However, he had taken off from his dad's side and decided that he'd make his presence in the bathroom. At least, for old times sakes. Last time he did anything "exciting" in a bathroom, he was socking people in the family jewels or in the stomach for not paying up to use the bathroom, and a cute boy walked by to get him to blow up the toilets... needless to say he was messy after this, and so if he could do the same and reignite that same chaos, he so would. Especially at a moment when two people were supposed to be happy and live together forever and blah blah blah.
He heard the incantation to a slug vomiting spell being spoken by a blonde boy, somehow more handsome than most boys his own age. He watched him from the doorway, watching what he was doing, then smirked. He knew that what was going on was probably either going to be misread, or he was reading it as if it were something bad, but he couldn't quite place his fingers on what was so bad. All he was doing was making someone vomit, that wasn't terrible, at least he wasn't beating them to a pulp or summoning an asp viper on them to make them suffer in tormenting pain. He'd also watch the girl whine, and Clark disagreed with her, he felt Gideon was in the right of way.
Clark casually strolled past them and locked himself in a stall, peering out of the gaps between the stall door and the frame. If they looked, they'd see his own body pressed up against the door, his right eye blinking as he watched what was going on. He wasn't there to use the bathroom, instead, what he was presently doing was watching the encounter, but more so focusing on the blonde boy. Maybe he found his type, that wretched woman whose father banished him from seeing her.. was not what he wanted. He couldn't keep obsessing over these crazy people that he managed to lure in. This boy was the most normal, at least in his own eyes, to him. And definitely someone that seemed valuable to pay attention to.
Worst case scenario, that boy doesn't like him and likes someone else. Best case scenario, they'd have a wedding in a few years time. He wondered what he could say or do, if it was even right to intervene. He wasn't his own father, so intervening wasn't so smart.
The goblin's eyes slowly sunk to the floor, wondering if it was right to even stroll up to him and demand that they become a couple despite not knowing each other all too well. He sighed, pulled out his wand, opened the stall door slightly, hoping not to be completely visible, but to allow clear visibility and room to cast the clothing ignition charm.He had no intentions of hurting that boy, all he wanted was to figure out a way for the two to meet, and this was the gentlest way he could do so, ignoring how he was treating a beautiful girl. That being said, he opened the stall door with shame heavily laced upon his face.Magical action: Casting Clothing Ignition Charm at Gideon
He put his wand back in his pocket as the stall door opened and stared at Gideon with an expression of pleading upon his youthful face.
@Gideon Athanatos | @Taylor Athanatos
| You've gotta break some eggs to make an omlette, something something. |
The Bathrooms
“Hi Finn!”
Finnegan waved back lamely with his Schnitzel-on-a-stick. He had been so focused on watching the bathroom door that the sound of his name being called out was like a small, static shock.While Aamon's presence was entirely expected, the almost friendly greeting was not. The gangly and too enthusiastic way with which Aamon then proceeded to floo his way out of the room was even more puzzling. Having rescued Aamon from the brink of death had changed their relationship, shifting it from hostile to something far more complex. Not friends, there was still too little trust between them for that to even be in the cards, but no longer enemies either.
He wondered if he should have remained hidden. Gideon and that girl had not noticed him yet, but more and more guests were arriving and while crowds could provide anonimity, they also increased the risk of being recognised and approached. Would Aamon wonder why he was there? Aamon had looked rather busy, running off like that, so maybe he would get lucky and the young Slytherin would not question his presence until later. Maybe he should adjust his plans...
The universe answered almost immediately. An impish figure, its head too large for its body, entered his peripheral view. For a second he thought it was a particularly misshapen house elf, but there was no pink tuxedo on this demonic goblin.
Clark bloody Baird. If a lobotomized Peeves the Poltergeist could be squeezed into a pint-sized person, it would have been Clark.
Octavius's moronic offspring was swinging its little legs enthusiastically and making a beeline for the bathroom. Finn quickly retreated behind the plant into which he had been dumping bits of Schnitzel-on-a-stick. He wasn't afraid of Clark exactly, but he was afraid of Clark's ability to make a scene. The last thing he wanted was more eyes on the bathroom, more eyes on Gideon and himself and that girl. The plan had been to wait for Gideon, find an opportune moment to lure the romantically frustrated teen away and go from there, but that plan was out the window. Clark's only two talents were debasing himself and drawing a crowd of onlookers morbidly fascinated by his utter lack of self-preservation. It was a miracle that the impish boy was still alive.
Well, for now anyway. Maybe today natural selection would finally catch up to the Hufflepuff.
Sorry Gideon, you'll have to wait... he thought to himself once Clark had passed and the coast was clear again. Finnegan dropped the rest of his Schnitzel-on-a-stick in the potted plant and headed toward the small bar. There was still time, the game was young, and he still had many cards left to play.
Finnegan waved back lamely with his Schnitzel-on-a-stick. He had been so focused on watching the bathroom door that the sound of his name being called out was like a small, static shock.While Aamon's presence was entirely expected, the almost friendly greeting was not. The gangly and too enthusiastic way with which Aamon then proceeded to floo his way out of the room was even more puzzling. Having rescued Aamon from the brink of death had changed their relationship, shifting it from hostile to something far more complex. Not friends, there was still too little trust between them for that to even be in the cards, but no longer enemies either.
He wondered if he should have remained hidden. Gideon and that girl had not noticed him yet, but more and more guests were arriving and while crowds could provide anonimity, they also increased the risk of being recognised and approached. Would Aamon wonder why he was there? Aamon had looked rather busy, running off like that, so maybe he would get lucky and the young Slytherin would not question his presence until later. Maybe he should adjust his plans...
The universe answered almost immediately. An impish figure, its head too large for its body, entered his peripheral view. For a second he thought it was a particularly misshapen house elf, but there was no pink tuxedo on this demonic goblin.
Clark bloody Baird. If a lobotomized Peeves the Poltergeist could be squeezed into a pint-sized person, it would have been Clark.
Octavius's moronic offspring was swinging its little legs enthusiastically and making a beeline for the bathroom. Finn quickly retreated behind the plant into which he had been dumping bits of Schnitzel-on-a-stick. He wasn't afraid of Clark exactly, but he was afraid of Clark's ability to make a scene. The last thing he wanted was more eyes on the bathroom, more eyes on Gideon and himself and that girl. The plan had been to wait for Gideon, find an opportune moment to lure the romantically frustrated teen away and go from there, but that plan was out the window. Clark's only two talents were debasing himself and drawing a crowd of onlookers morbidly fascinated by his utter lack of self-preservation. It was a miracle that the impish boy was still alive.
Well, for now anyway. Maybe today natural selection would finally catch up to the Hufflepuff.
Sorry Gideon, you'll have to wait... he thought to himself once Clark had passed and the coast was clear again. Finnegan dropped the rest of his Schnitzel-on-a-stick in the potted plant and headed toward the small bar. There was still time, the game was young, and he still had many cards left to play.
Leaving the ballroom and heading towards The Small Bar
@Clark Baird @Aamon Athanatos
OOC note:
Reducio
For Clark: since the only way to get the bathroom is through the ballroom I took the liberty of having Finn see Clark from the ballroom. Finn is in the ballroom and positioned in such a way as to be monitoring the bathroom door. To be clear: Finn is just seeing Clark and is not interacting with him and is in fact avoiding interaction.
"He's a dweeby chocolate bar lip smacking nerd" - Evelynn Decipio
The Bathrooms
Gideon dragged Taylor into the bathroom with all the subtlety of a howler. There was desperation in his grip, rage simmering under his skin like a potion seconds from boiling over. Giddy offered no explanation to the gathering crowd. No shouted warning, he did not care if anyone was saved besides her. No apologies. Only a singular mission pulsing behind the Seer's eyes. Whether it was urgency or utter indifference that kept him from justifying himself, no one could say.
Taylor, for her part, found herself unceremoniously forced to her knees beside a toilet bowl, the cold tile pressing against her skin as Gideon raised his wand.
“Slugulus Eructo,” the dangerous Hufflepuff incanted, voice sharp with conviction.
Not hag slugs. Ordinary ones. Slimy, oversized and miserable, but still... just slugs.
Enter @Clark Baird.
Whether spurred by a heroic impulse (unlikely), a sudden need to be dramatic (more likely), or a disillusioned desire to 'know' Gideon (that one), Clark burst through the bathroom door with all the grace of a first-year on a broomstick. He wasn’t there to rescue Taylor. No, Clark was simply there at an emotionally charged moment, which made what he did next all the more confusing.
“Lacarnum Inflamari!”
Finn didn’t wait to find out.
The possibility, however slim, of kissing Gideon again hung at a dangerous 30%. That was more than enough to send Finnegan the other way.
Taylor, for her part, found herself unceremoniously forced to her knees beside a toilet bowl, the cold tile pressing against her skin as Gideon raised his wand.
“Slugulus Eructo,” the dangerous Hufflepuff incanted, voice sharp with conviction.
The effect was immediate. A wave of nausea slammed into Taylor like a rogue wave. Her throat closed in on itself, thick and clenching. Her breath came short, then ragged. And then it erupted: dozens of glistening, writhing slugs heaved from her mouth into the bowl and across the floor in a sickening cascade.Slug Vomiting Charm
Wisdom Check: 5
Accuracy (Gideon): 18
Evasion (Taylor):9
Auto-dodge Chance: 25
Not hag slugs. Ordinary ones. Slimy, oversized and miserable, but still... just slugs.
Enter @Clark Baird.
Whether spurred by a heroic impulse (unlikely), a sudden need to be dramatic (more likely), or a disillusioned desire to 'know' Gideon (that one), Clark burst through the bathroom door with all the grace of a first-year on a broomstick. He wasn’t there to rescue Taylor. No, Clark was simply there at an emotionally charged moment, which made what he did next all the more confusing.
“Lacarnum Inflamari!”
The hem of Gideon’s coat went up in flames like a bonfire spell gone wrong. The fire licked at the fabric, then at his skin. Pain bloomed up his side in hot flashes. Now Gideon had three choices:Clark Attempts to Set Gideon's Clothes on Fire.
Wisdom Check: 12
Accuracy (Clark): 19
Evasion (Gideon): 7
Auto-dodge Chance: 37
- Stop, drop, and extinguish.
- Continue purging Taylor of her alleged slug possession.
- Beat Clark Baird into a greasy stain on the bathroom tiles.
Finn didn’t wait to find out.
The possibility, however slim, of kissing Gideon again hung at a dangerous 30%. That was more than enough to send Finnegan the other way.
Some stories should never be told...
The Bathrooms
Pain had a way of getting a man's attention.
The searing heat where @Clark Baird’s spell struck tore through Gideon's embroidered waistcoat, the silken finery blackening with smoke. Gideon staggered back with a sharp, animal sound, but it was not the sound of agony, but fury. A guttural roar slipped from between clenched teeth, a snarl dragged from a furnace.
Gideon didn’t even look at her now. Not that his intentions had changed, but the path had been irrevocably altered by Clark's untimely intervention.
Taylor was still doubled over the toilet, retching, her body convulsing with each heave. Slugs spilled from her mouth, thick, black, glistening things that slapped wetly into the bowl. Not hag slugs. Ordinary ones. Harmless, parasitic mimicry. And that, more than anything, should have destroyed him. He had done all of this, created this scene and jumped to the most dangerous conclusion. He had hurt her, but he did not consider himself to be wrong. He recognized the symptoms, he refused to acknowledge the possibility that he was wrong. Indifference and denial means that she dies. She was not allowed to die until he said she could.
So no, it didn’t destroy him. His rage had already found a new shape to take. A face. A name he did not know yet: Clark Baird.
What was this boy thinking? Interrupting a man mid-crisis? Striking out at someone who had clearly just stepped out of Hell?
Gideon turned. Slowly. The movement was not theatrical, but there was something heavy about it, like a guillotine arm locking into place. His pale eyes burned with cold light, unblinking.
He didn’t know Clark. Why would he? The boy was a no one. A half-breed, probably. No, certainly. All muddled blood and delusions of significance. Half-elf, half-goblin, who could even tell the difference? Gideon could smell the inferiority in his magic, the way it trembled when it met his own.
Gideon sneered, he had too many teeth and they seemed sharp. The expression disdainful and aristocratic, and said in a voice like shined marble: “Your mother should have swallowed ambition with the rest of her dignity.”
Then Gideon rose to his full height. For years he had endeavored to appear small, innocent, harmless. he allowed others to fight his battles for him, to overlook him. To see him as a mad-dog barely chained, but not truly a threat.
He was not some pampered pureblood playing at anger. He was not posturing. He was made of fire and steel, raised on prophecy and poisoned tea. Born to command. Groomed to burn down cities if they forgot his name.
With a flick, Gideon pointed his wand just past Clark.
It wasn't aimed at Clark. It didn’t need to be. The wall behind Clark would soon shimmer, magic crawling across the marble like sap from a cursed tree: thick, sticky, alive. It would become a trap. A flytrap for gnats.Magic Action: Adhesive Charm, cast on the wall behind Clark]
And then, Gideon would lunge forward to push him. Not with magic. With force. With fury.
“You’re not brave,” he growled, voice velvet-wrapped venom. “You’re just... convenient.”Mundane Action: Push Clark towards the fly trap.
The Bathrooms
Fire.
A thin streak of flame erupted from Gideon's waistcoat, like the hiss of a phoenix feather catching alight. Her cousin's coat, tailored, expensive, smugly perfect, ignited in an instant. He did not attempt to extinguish his coat, the flames licking up his back like a judgment made manifest. The fire was fast and strange, like it chose him.
It hadn't, not that Taylor would understand the strange hormones at play at had compelled Clark to intervene. Not that she would have cared, but she would have questioned his taste as she well should.
Giddy turned wildly, wand flaring, ready to curse whatever idiot dared—
Clark. Clark Baird. The half-blood, half-breed in all his soon-to-be ruined glory. Gideon’s wrath pivoted, coiled like a striking serpent.
And Taylor, bless her wicked little heart, ran.
She did not thank Clark. Not with a glance. Not with a word. Her hair was falling from its pins and mascara running, her legs carried her like a girl possessed. Her kitten heels clicked out a war drum’s rhythm across tile and stone, echoing her escape down the hall like gunfire in a cathedral.
The slugs came again: wet, glistening, wrong. One hit the floor with a slap, hissing faintly as if alive. Technically it wasn't, never was. That was not how magic worked, magic altered life but it did not create it. Another tumbled from her lips like a pearl cursed by a witch. She gagged, one hand on the wall for balance, the other over her mouth as the thing inside her tried to convince the world she was cursed.
And oh, how well she sold it.
She would burst out the bathroom door and attempt to push past startled guests. Past murmuring portraits and flowery garlands that seemed to curl away from her like it knew better. The heir's cousin was unwell.
Taylor did not look back. She was leaving Gideon burn.
Attempting to leave the Bathroom and return to the Ball.
iNPC of Aamon Athanatos
The Bathrooms
He looked at the negative reaction from Gideon, and figured he either did a really good job pissing him off... or a superb job at winning him over. He was not sure. He could pursue the boy, spike his food or drinks... or possibly just do worse but.. not right now. That was something to do later. He watched the adhesive spell fly past him, and felt the sharp jolt as he slammed against the wall, his back aching with the impact.
But now he was stuck. Hmm, would he treat Gideon like the others or would he let him go, act like this didn't happen and somehow figure out how to get down? The easy answer was just to do something stupid. "Hey hot stuff!" He put on a stupid, sloppy smile on his face. "If you get me down from here, I'll take you out and pay for the meal." He said, making a kissy-expression, puckering his lips before returning to his smile.
As much as he wished he would allow Gideon free reign, the truth was, Clark was going to pursue him. He was.. not a good counterpart in a relationship in all honesty. He was like the ex you broke up with for being so creepy and persistent, even jealous. He looked back at the wall he was trapped on and back at Gideon. Which one..
For the wall, he just had to cast Finite Incantatem. For Gideon, well, Take Root could maybe do the job. Oh, gosh. He didn't want Gideon to hate his guts, he just wanted to land his lips on his and kiss. That's all he wanted, but it seemed Gideon lacked a taste for romance. Honestly, making someone puke slugs would probably have been a red flag, but still it mattered none to Clark, all that mattered was he was going to walk out of here with that boy in his arms.
"Anathema Daphnis." He said, concentrating all his focus towards Gideon. He hoped that by casting this spell, a strong root would encase his legs and trap him, as per the intention of the spell.(I don't really have a mundane action LMAO)Magical Action: Casting Take Root at Gideon
@Gideon Athanatos | @Taylor Athanatos
| You've gotta break some eggs to make an omlette, something something. |
The Bathrooms
|
|
The wall and floor immediately before the wall became not simply tacky, but sticky in the way a spider's web was to a fly.Gideon casts the sticking charm on the wall using spell spread.
Roll: 20 critical success
Gideon missed.Gideon attempts to push Clark into the wall.
Attack: 13 (+15 Accuracy) 28 Miss
10% auto-success (Seer): 97 Failed
Evasion: 15 (+15 Evasion) 30
The Seer stumbled forward when his palms caught only air and he nearly fell into his own sticky trap. An incident that would have been an eternal embarrassment.
Gideon didn’t blink. Not when the roots burst from the floor and missed the teen by a narrow margin. Not when the absurd kissy-face was offered like some tawdry talisman. And certainly not when Clark, in full view, took a deliberate half-step back into the wall like it might earn him something.Clark attempts to cast Take Root at Gideon
Attack 10 (+8 Accuracy) 18 Miss
Evasion 14 (+15 Evasion) 29
10% auto-dodge (Seer) not needed
Pity. Punishment. A kiss.
Whatever this was, and Gideon for the life of him did not understand it... It earned him disgust.
The wall latched onto Clark the crisp finality of a closing tomb.
Clark has walked into Gideon's trap on purpose.
Is Giddy into that?
Roll: 31 (kinda)
Some stories should never be told...