Devil's Island High Houses Group A

banner by. elena clark

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𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓽𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓰𝓮 𝓶𝓮𝓪𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓽𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓵𝓭.

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What a cruel master reality was. Expectations: awakening to the chirp of birdsong and the fluttering of butterflies on his windowsill, with a breakfast prepared for him and his roommates he could eat over shared conversations and revelry. Sleeping in, a hot morning bath, excitement at every word and well-deserved break.

Instead, all Anthonie got were screams.

He sat bolt upright in his bed as the banshee-like wails filled his ears, jolting him out of the sweet hum of a peaceful dream. Eyes wide, he searched his room for any sign of its source, and as the sound settled and his vision came back empty-handed, he was almost relieved. It had been a figment of his imagination, a fragment of his subconscious— Until he heard the words in bellowing English and the screams started up again.

“ Wake up ! ”

The unmistakable voice of Akinyi Odera was what truly shook him out of his slumber. Frantically, he straightened and pulled on his clothes, sliding into socks and trainers as he stood. All his anticipation for the day ahead drained away yet he was alert as ever as the door was pushed ajar and Akinyi’s voice came clear as the morning time’s sky. He glanced around for the perpetrator of the attack, the root of the screams he would have no qualms of killing. Grasping his wand from the bedside table, he shifted his stance into a defensive one, readying his arms as he set his eyes on the creaking door.

Yet he would realise the beast was no fauna but formidable display of flora. It peeked into his room, slithering its way towards his bed like a snake towards a mice den. He pointed his wand towards the semi-sentient creature, cautiously stepping around the tendrils of vine that threatened to lick at his shoes. Writhing its way closer to him Anthonie took note of the inky, constricting plant, mind racing across the diagrams and graphics of his kusoma kya maisha classes. That was the Devil’s Snare.

Recognition crossed Anthonie's face, and a hint of anger edged itself into blue eyes usually tranquil as the face of a summertime's lake. Today, they took on the nature of a raging sea under a clear cerulean sky, composed, yet with an unbelievable paroxysm of tightly leashed ire. He bursted out of his room, only to see a dastardly sight at the door, blocking their exits and only way to the screaming students. Burning with determination and with the swiftness of fire spreading across oil, he clutched his wand of willow wood, flicked it, drew it back, and flicked once more, incanting with the drive of a mother hen who had lost her chicks, “ Lumos Maxima ! ”

Anthonie watched as his spell took effect and soon, the heat of choler faded away as a waterfall washed over his eyes and he calmed his breaths. The rise and fall of his chest steadied, and muscles still tensed managed to loosen enough into proper working. There was no time for the guilt of yesterday’s glee to catch up to him, and even less time to think of options when one was strikingly clear. To panic was to fail, and he could not fail the young charges under his protection. “ Exactly what do you mean by ‘guts’ ? ” “ I mean, grace under pressure. ”

Without a second’s reconsideration of his priorities, Anthonie, brows furrowed and eyes set, surged forward at the vine intwined door, voice, under forceful composure, decisively leaving no room for an ounce of question, “ Our students. ”

@Akinyi Odera | banner by Adeline Spinks | action: casting Lumos Maxima at the tendrils on the door

interacting: @Akinyi Odera, @Anthonie Engelbrecht, @Aulis Vorozheykin, @Arturo Reyes

"Wake up!"

The voice cut through Ruckus's sleep like a knife; before he even opened his eyes, he found himself standing, wand in hand. Upon opening them, he saw thick green vines assaulting the room. At first he considered snakes—this was the jungle after all. But no, constrictors didn't move like that, it was much worse: Devil's snare.

Ruckus took a deep breath before acting. Anthonie, Uagadou's headmaster, and Akinyi, Ruckus's fellow Hogwarts professor. were already moving. He was sure Arturo and Aulis would not be far behind. The flying professor had agreed to ferry a few Hogwarts students to this far off isle not necessarily out of the goodness of his heart, but to have a slight vacation, take in the salty brine of the sea mixed with brazen sun and humid air—and collect a few plant samples for his collection from the magical jungle. (These was not the type of plant sampling he had in mind.) And it had been nice to spend time with people closer to his age, though in the case of this room, you might still have to add everyone else's ages together to get to ole Ruckus's. Yet, he had felt bit out of sorts when entering the group yesterday—even though they were quite young, they had more illustrious and straightforward resumes than his own. It seemed his voice grew more sheepish and Scottish as the day wore on, as if to fully draw out his own perception that he was an interloper.

Now in this sort of pinch, Ruckus could only feel relieved that he had two headmasters, an ex-headmaster, and an especially erudite professor by his side.

He called to his colleagues in the room, "Shield yer eyes!" before pointing his wand at the center of the mass of vines and bellowing "Lumos Solem!"

Ruckus's wand would fill the room with sunlight, joining the light from Anthonie's wand and the fire Akinyi had started. But worse than blinding light was the sounds he could hear from outside their room.

Students. In Peril.

Anthonie echoed his thoughts aloud. The old man nodded, quickly stuffed his feet in his boots, which were lying close to his bed—his days on a ship had taught him to set up his sleep arrangements in a such way that he could leave a moment's notice—and responded, "They need us."

He had experienced situations with worse outcomes, but never with kids involved. The magical world always had a hint a danger, he even invited that hint into his flying classroom on occasion … but if each room had this number of vines … he shuddered to think of it.

action: casting lumos solem at the vines

AULIS VOROZHEYKIN.
KOLDOVSTORETZ. DIRECTOR OF STUDIES.
Russian. | English.
Spoken. | Thought.

sta. 11.

eva. 15.

str. 07.

wis. 15.

arc. 10.

acc. 17.

date. 01/03/26

location. tenūsa homesteads

word count. 237

Arturo had forgotten what socialization could feel that. It was mostly nice to be around other adults in academia, whereas his time now was mostly spent in solitude studying the wilds that now surrounded them. They couldn't actually hurt him like how other people could, the wilds were always safe unless altered by an unknown force. Nevertheless, even with Aulis snoring like a wildebeast in the corner, Arturo was happy to enjoy his time back at Tenūsa and quickly fell to asleep.

It wasn't until Art had this an astute feeling that he was pulled from sleep into the usual moans of a swamp until the shrieks from the forest began the pandemonium and Arturo was quick to grab his wand as he kept quiet and quickly began to assess the situation. Dark, coiled tendrils of Devil's Snare could be seen blocking them and aiming for their group. However, they seemed off. Perhaps enchanted? Arturo couldn't tell exactly with such distance and little light.

The adults moved responsibly as Arturo watched flames produced at wand tip, a burst of light, and Aulis' dramatic flare of a fire storm. He'd known the spell to counteract that when the time came but for now, it felt like protection would be best for their group. " Protego Maxmia. " With a hand raised, Arturo focused on a shield spell wide enough to protect all of them from these wicked vines.

MODERATION

With such adept wizardry on display it was no wonder that the adults in the Rumah Adat had tackled the devil's snare with clear and concise cohesion. A mastery display of different spells shot through the air like some kind of artistic ballet, whisps of fire from @Akinyi Oderadanced through a circling rapture of flame conjured by @Aulis Vorozhykin while gleams of sunlight shone through the room, illuminated by @Ruckus Weems and @Anthonie Engelbrecht. To anyone outside the homestead it would appear that the house was akin to a blazing sunset. Yet all that light and fiery heat certainly would've made thinks uncomfortable in the already humid landscape if not for the gentle protections of former Grand Seer @Arturo Reyes who gracefully shielded them from the spells effects.

As the light began to fade and the flicker of searing flames dwindled, all that remained was the foul scent of ash and rotting plant. Tendrils fell from the ceiling destined to hit these witches and wizards had they not been more careful. But far little did the group know that they were not out of the woods yet. The dark vines began to retreat from the attack collecting themself into a much tighter formation across the very exit they needed access to. Many of these astute professors had been correct to identify the plant, but they were also correct that this was no ordinary variant. Might it have been as Arturo thought enchanted, perhaps, but there was not the time to research that now. For more and more screams were rolling on the wind and whatever was happening past that door was imperative to reach.

Akinyi the first to rise would be the first to move, readying the flame that she had so instinctively shot again with the desperation to save her students. Only as she walked forward the plant showed that it was not without its own tricks. Vined tendrils raised up and lashed at her like devilish whips, and while she would manage to avoid them one thing was clear. Whatever this thing was, or whomever had control of it, it did not want them out without a fight.

Rolls:

Reducio

All castings were successes.
Akinyi is attacked by the vines - 1d20 (13) + 10 = 23, success

banner by. elena clark

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𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓽𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓰𝓮 𝓶𝓮𝓪𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓽𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓵𝓭.

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AULIS VOROZHEYKIN.
KOLDOVSTORETZ. DIRECTOR OF STUDIES.
Russian. | English.
Spoken. | Thought.

interacting: @Akinyi Odera, @Anthonie Engelbrecht, @Aulis Vorozheykin, @Arturo Reyes

In something that felt coordinated, but was really the product of the power and knowledge in the room, the professors all unleashed different spells that threw the vines into a retreat. Though it didn't seem like they would relent without a fight. Odd, Devil's Snare was never this persistent. There was something strange about it; something Ruckus hadn't seen before. It was forming a barrier around their door. Was it usually this intelligent? "I don't like the way this snare is behaving."

His fellow Hogwarts professor, Akinyi, reiterated the need to get to the students, and the flying professor nodded in agreement. Yet the head of Koldovstoretz scoffed at the idea and subsequently made a jab at the safety of the Scottish magical school. Ruckus gripped his wand tighter, knuckles turning white. But that was the only indication that comment affected him. On one hand, the Russian had a point: Hogwarts seemed particularly dangerous as far as magical schools went. Yet, if Ruckus had learned one thing in his life, it was that life itself was particularly more dangerous than most imagined. And that never excused not helping those who needed it.

"Well, I'm sure the Koldovstoretz students are fine and dandy, but I'd like to check in on at least the Hogwarts ones, eh? I could use some fresh air at the very least." Ruckus responded, his voice steady and cold. Earlier that day, the Scottish man had felt out of his league, surrounded by what seemed far more accomplished witches and wizards. But now he realized this director of studies had barely enough years to cultivate chin hairs. "And if ye use diffindo, we'll be here all night cutting through the godforsaken things. It's clearly some frankenstein Devil's Snare."

Ruckus aimed his own wand at the knotted mess of vines: "Incendio tria!"

action: casting incendio tria at the vines blocking the exit