The Devil's Dolls
These were places of reverence to the early sacrifices of the Isle's founders. Magically enhanced to keep their colour so that they would always be a light in the jungle they did not expect the intrusion of darkness to soil them. Wells of tentacle like vines began to slink around their wheels, damaging artifacts beloved by the locals. Paint scraped away as holes were burrowed through the vines desperately seeking what lay within, who lay within. As it broke in splintering wood in its wake it pierced the enchantments of the structures and lurked its way into the magically enhanced interiors to find its prey. Slithering within as the sun began to dawn on the new day it moved with haste eager to fester in the darker edges of the wagons were it could thrive. Where it could feed.
Much to the displeasure of the entity, what it found was not two easy victims, though in all logical senses they should have been. Roll: 17 Instead as it burrowed and broke it found a pair of younger girls ready and preparing for the day. Whether they were early risers or the stories of this place were true and they had gained some sort of unique foresight was unclear, but they would hear the creaks and snaps of wood from above and begin to panic as eery black vines began to worm their way in lurching towards them. Luck had been on their side but would it continue to be?Moderation Note: Neither of you have yet been attacked by the entity appearing at the edges of the wagon, yet as they appear they are coming from the side where the exit is and as such you would have to move closer to them to escape in the traditional means.
"I see with more than my eyes, so I may guide the way for those who cannot."
- Lawrence Maynard, Grand Seer of Tenūsa
- Lawrence Maynard, Grand Seer of Tenūsa
The Devil's Dolls
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Suddenly being abducted from the opening ceremony was certainly not in Tatiana's bucket list during her journey in Tenūsa; nor was being woken up by an immensely annoying ringing sound that seemed to be coming from her companion. Feeling restless and bitter, she woke up frustrated and so dearly wanted to give the girl she'd been sharing a wagon with an earful — where she discovered that the second-year was clumsily trying her best to make the rickety little thing shut up, earning a small, annoyed glance from Tatiana.
After the small item had been shut up for good, Tatiana looked out from the curtained windows of the wagon, where she so nearly missed something that wanted to grope to her dark curls. “God.”, she panted, looking around at Aurelia to seek some reaction. It was as bright as day outside and this was how the morning greeted her?
She decided that the creature was definitely somewhat hostile to be greeting an eleven year old like that, but she still tried to make out what it could be based on what happened in a split-second while she was so nearing her death. The creature had tentacles, for sure, and Tatiana could still feel that her hair was icky from the creature's grip; could it be possible that it was something like a squid or octopus? But does Tenūsa even house those animals? Fuck; she really should've skimmed a book or two about the place, who knew they would be in such danger as this?
She looked around the wooden wagon, trying to make sense of what was lingering outside of the carriage, but still frightened enough to not want to leave yet. “Well, what do we do? We're stuck her, aren't we?”, she gestured to the girl, hoping that because she was older she'd atleast have some wisdom that was better than first-years, preferably something in the field of attacking rather than just planning, because that was certainly not Tatiana's field, and the girl looked like she could do with a few fights — but definitely not with some unknown creature that dwelled in dark forests in the south-east.
A crack.
The creature was certainly not so powerless as she thought; she could hear the ivy on the ground getting squished by what creature that dwelled outside the wagon; the increasing feeling of unease creeping into her, is this really what fate had laid out for the two young girls?
WC: 410
@Lawrence Maynard ; @Aurelia Valentine
Note : permission from Aurelia's writer to godmod her a bit here
ReducioAction: reaching for her wand; otherwise preparing
Statistics: Stamina - 5 Evasion - 5 Strength - 4 Wisdom - 6 ArcPower - 5 Accuracy - 5
Abilities: Part-Veela · Alluring — Year 2 — Year 3 — Year 4 — Year 5 — Year 6 — Year 7
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The Devil's Dolls
| ISSUE NO. 001 | [ LOCATION • DATE, DAY ] |
| ?????? | Tick-tock… Tick-tock… Tick-tock… For Aurelia, the ticking of the clock reverberated inside the comforts of the vibrant plum traveller wagon that night. Wagon which was assigned to her as temporary accommodation for the three-day trip at the Isle of Divination. She was not entirely alone, of course, as only across from her comfortable bed there is an additional bed pressed next to the wall where another Hufflepuff is currently slumbering and appeared to be most untroubled by this all. Not that she was saying that there is something to be concerned about, only that this is one of those moments when her sensitivity with things her mind register and sense became noticeable. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Aurelia is beyond overstimulated. Whilst her nails picked at the loose thread of her frog-printed bottom pyjamas, the young badger forced her attention to the surroundings once again. During the day, the humid climate caused the area to be a tad bit stuffy and sort of mildewy, and this had been obvious before one leaves the port-key hut. However, as soon as the clock hand strikes sixteen-hundreds, the air would gradually clear and the breeze would pass by as though it is obliged to bless every one of them a gentle kiss and embrace. Perhaps as compensation from the oppressing midday air. The pungent smell of earth, wood, and herb would be eminent by this hour, and it would seem like there is nothing more better than this. The Hufflepuff witch thought there is nothing more better than this. Nothing she desired more than to be one and the same with the fauna and flora at that time. Spiritually, it had seemed like it. The evening eventually approached the isle, and everything became biting and ominous. Especially the night air. The chillness rivalled the chillness at the Scottish Highlands to the point that two layers of blankets proved almost useless. Outside the wagon, one can hear the occasional rustle of the leaves and branches, from the wind, animals, or another. What another Aurelia does not question. What use would it be but to spook a child? Everything did not feel right, in her honest and unsolicited opinion. Every sound is at full volume. The bed creaked at every turn. Whilst that is perfectly normal, the creaking sounds seemed to promise something unknown to her. The ticking sounds of the clock seemed almost tangible, as though she could spot balls bouncing off the walls; near her, or far from her. The rustling of the leaves and branches was almost like it was being rustled just behind or beside her. Cawing of birds and animal cries seemed akin to them perched just on the roof. The walls might as well be thin or non-existent. The badger only missed the comfort of the Hufflepuff Girls’ dormitories. Perhaps. Thoughts of Stalker—her feline pet—dampened her worries in the slightest bit of ways. There is no question that she became emotionally dependent to him, something she is yet to acknowledge. He became her lens to the outside world after all; an extension of herself that gets the job of navigating done. If the snobby cat was here, Aurelia would be able to discern if it is safe to sleep in a foreign place with all these mysterious noises clouding her senses like black smoke. Would he be alarmed, like she did, or would he be curled up here in a ball like he normally does when he is sleepy like there is nothing to be vexed about in the world? A sigh escaped her lips; the type that wobbles in the throat from the cold and fear combined. What to do, exactly? Sleep, of course. She joined the trip to learn all about the mystical and enigmatic allure of Tenūsa and the Isle of Divination, not to eventually be zombified from the lack of sleep for the rest of the tour. Perhaps the young Hufflepuff was just being her anxious self and these should be dismissed entirely. You're being difficult again, Aurelia. Another sigh. Her dark eyes landed on the tome cracked open across her blanketed lap, index finger worrying the corner of a page. This unconscious habit earned her a few paper cuts before. Relax. No one is out to get you, dummy. Before Hypnos [finally!] visited her that same night, Aurelia placed her black walnut wand under her pillows. The said wand might be "malfunctioning" this year, refusing to cooperate with her terms, but surely if something… happened, in such dire situation the wand will side its owner in the end, right? She sure does hope that is, indeed, the case. Eyes blinking heavily, gaze focused solely on the wooden floors, Aurelia thought of the faraway land she often pictured in her mind when she was a child. It was full of colours and there is something new to discover. She thought of unearthing something significant in her research, something that will definitely change the trajectory of the world. Such dreams she always seemed to forget, as she is not known to dwell in such frivolity. This realistic approach in life she deem a form of protection from an unknown force… what force remained obscure… It was a blink! "Sorry, sorry, sorry..!" The annoying, shrilly ring of her alarm clock sounded that early Sunday morning, remembering just now that she forgot to turn off the set time for the alarm. With a short scream, the curly-haired badger landed on the floor as soon as she rolled over to retrieve her clock. |
??? | A solid minute had passed before Aurelia emerged, eyes still blinking heavily from restlessness. This is it, she is zombified. "I apologise, that was carelessness on my part…" a mutter that @Tatiana Contraire probably did not hear. This is why she requested a room for herself in Badger Bungalow, because sharing it means disturbing one another is inevitable. Settling back in the bed, Aurelia stared at nothing in particular with her back hunched, eyes squinted and her fingers combing absentmindedly at her long, noir curls. Dishevelled from sleep. The itinerary occupied her mind; thinking of the preparations she had to do for the tour. The tome she checked out from the Hogwarts Library, a tome that supposed to enlighten her about Tenūsa and Isle of Divination, did little to no help. Provided nothing but theories and information of surface-level. She should not have bothered if the withheld information will be provided by the surrounding professors and the Headmaster himself. Ugh, another time wasted on nothing— A sharp crack snapped her out of her reverie. She stood from the bed like a spring, a distraught look blossomed on her face as her eyes zeroed in on the wooden ceiling. What was that? Before she could process this line of thinking, another sharp crack sounded, a sound which seemed similar to wood being splintered to bits. The impact made the wagon shake a bit. Something is forcing its way inside. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx If Aurelia was alone, she would have spiralled. Anxiety would overcome her. She might even curl to a ball in the corner and wait for her death. But she was not. Thus, the younger Hufflepuff's frightened question earned a sharp look from Aurelia. Irritation bubbled up in her core, and out of frustration, she threw her pillow aside to get her wand. The familiar structure of her black walnut wand provided a small relief to her being. "Well, the first thing you not do is stand around and ask 'what do we do'," snarled Aurelia. Her voice wobbled slightly even if she attempts to put up a sarcastic front. This girl will crumble in the comforts of her room, but definitely not in front of people, of especially of strangers. "Act like a proper witch. Get your wand!" My God. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Think rationally. Calm down. Where are the adults? Children should not be subjected into something like this. How careless! Careless that it was almost absurd! Surely there should be someone patrolling the vicinity, this is basic security measures! What was it? Is this really something that could have been prevented? This is all back to the concern that should be initially addressed first thing. That concern being that the world is littered with irresponsible adults. Her gaze did not leave the wooden ceiling even for one second. Afraid that if she did, it would be all over for the both of them. Her throat produced a muffled squeak after another impact shook the wooden wagon once again. It should be a comforting fact for Aurelia that she is part of the Hufflepuff Duelling Roster, however, she only joined after the winter games and therefore had no experience whatsoever in duelling. Yet. What will become of them? Aurelia is scared to her wits. An observant eye will notice her fingers gripping her black walnut wand tightly, her body almost vibrating from apprehension. The ceiling. The windows. The door. Think rationally. Deduce. "Listen. With all offence I could muster, whoever or whatever is attempting to force its way inside the wagon is probably astoundingly dumb. They do not know how to open doors and windows that is why they were aiming for the ceiling. Another factor is that they are making a ruckus in the early morning, time when everything is quiet and the risk of waking up residents nearby is highly probable. Do not try to open the windows and the door, as we might be surrounded. In fact, let's think that we are indeed surrounded," a huff. Suddenly, she forgot all the spells she learnt and mastered. A cold hand might as well gripped her little heart cruelly. "I expect you already mastered the Red Sparks Charm?" asked Aurelia, unconsciously performing its wand movement perfectly. She glanced at the Hufflepuff girl, unfortunately, she is yet to know her name and she did not know how to address her properly. "We need help. Search for an opening. If we failed to find an opening, we will have to wait for it to make a large hole up there. Ready yourself. What comes after…" the young badger trailed off, steeling herself. Her gaze switched from the ceiling to the windows and the exit, wholeheartedly expecting a full-blown surprise attack. Whichever way the creature choose to enter, the young Valentine girl will immediately cast, "Incendio!" conjuring a jet of fiery red flames with just an incantation and movement of her wand. With a flourish. Because never mind the fact that the traveller wagon might go up in flames from the spell; never mind the fact that it might have lived for centuries before this moment. There are two defenceless girls trapped inside and if this could give them an opening to escape, Aurelia is much willing to be rash. It's survival mode. [ 1,804 WC ] |
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   STA 4 ♥︎ EVA 10 ♥︎ STR 3 ♥︎ WIS 8 ♥︎ ARC 7 ♥︎ ACC 8 |
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[ the golden girl; the harshness of such warm light ]
[ aurelia valentine, the golden girl ] † [ lucien de montfort, the deranged artist ]
Visit Lourine's SMITTEN shop for handmade pfps with DISCOUNT—FREE for AI pfp users.
[ aurelia valentine, the golden girl ] † [ lucien de montfort, the deranged artist ]
Visit Lourine's SMITTEN shop for handmade pfps with DISCOUNT—FREE for AI pfp users.
The Devil's Dolls
FINAL MODERATION OF PART ONEThis pair of lasses were showing the vines that young women were no easy target. @Tatiana Contraire scrambled for her wand, clenching it firmly in hand, whilst her roommate @Aurelia Valentine fended off the vines with Incendio, allowing them a small enough area through which they could escape. But they didn't have to worry about squeezing through after all...
Standing in for Lawrence in this moderation round to end part 1 of the event!
Suddenly, the two were free to leave as they wished, because as if their interest had been piqued elsewhere, the vines shrunk back into nothingness and vanished seemingly into thin air. Perhaps the pair could proceed to part two and meet up with the other residents of the Traveller Wagons and the Rumah Adat...
Rolls:
Reducio
This part of the event has concluded. Your character can proceed to the optional part two if they want, or you can stop your participation and be glad you escaped!
The thread will remain open if you want to post a reaction/exit post, but no more moderations will be conducted here.
The thread will remain open if you want to post a reaction/exit post, but no more moderations will be conducted here.
The Devil's Dolls
| xxxxxx | Magic is such a wondrous thing—Aurelia had been marvelling at the thought for a millionth time now. Times that occurred whenever she perfected a spell; peformed for the girl's expense; or cracking open a tome which introduces a whole set of them, simply patiently waiting to be unearthed for her to commit to memory, to heart, at her disposal. The young Valentine fully understood, at such great length, how magic is an extension of oneself, how magic is the determinant of what separates the body of the wizarding community from its counterpart. This striking observation is often greeted with bright-eyed, child-like amazement—like at the present moment. Aurelia Valentine can't possibly avert her gaze, as the tip of her black walnut wand releases a wide jet of flame, as she intended it to. I light the prairie cornfields, Orange and tawny gold clusters.[1] Red, orange, and yellow. The colours that alighted her soul [and the ceiling], are reflected to her deep brown eyes, wide from apprehension. And the first thought that she pondered upon is this: how can such a heart-gripping assortment of colours obliterate the entirety of the wooden wagon? On quick succession too? The fire immediately spread like a transforming aura of a vengeful spirit, destroying whicho obstructed its path; the glow of its destruction made it certain that the shadowy veins is averse to such light that it disappeared through the cracks, leaving no trace of itself. Adrenaline coursed through her body. However, she is almost positive that the existence of her magic is in the mix too, electrifying her being. It is fizzing in her core, making itself known. The power in which ut utilised must've forced her rebelling wand to comply, especially with the emergency that supplied the impetus of the incantation. Her magic and black walnut wand became connected as one—it is a union, now a single unit. The intricate designs of the stick dug through her palm like unforgiving spikes, transporting her back to reality. I must not die here. A single piece of discarded wood fell from the ceiling that is currently in flames, a signal that they must move or they will not be able to see the light of day again. “Come on!” called Aurelia. The first discarded plaster led the domino as the flames engulfed the place. The wagon crumbled and disintegrated before their very eyes, and the sight fuelled Aurelia's legs to cooperate to the alertness which blared in the back of her mind. They escaped. The Traveller Wagon must've stood for years, decades, or even centuries. It fulfilled its duty of sheltering whoever needed it from the steady course of time. Various birds must've temporarily perched in its humble roof to rest. Fragile branches must've already touched its exterior by passing. Perhaps for the beloved students of Tenūsa the sight of it is a commodity in the Isle of Divination, like a decorative piece in the parlour that one can't remove because Mum will definitely notice. The Traveller Wagon, with the noticeable fragmentation of its plum paint, left to burn into pieces. |
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[1] “Theme in Yellow” by Carl Sandburg [1946]
[ the golden girl; the harshness of such warm light ]
[ aurelia valentine, the golden girl ] † [ lucien de montfort, the deranged artist ]
Visit Lourine's SMITTEN shop for handmade pfps with DISCOUNT—FREE for AI pfp users.
[ aurelia valentine, the golden girl ] † [ lucien de montfort, the deranged artist ]
Visit Lourine's SMITTEN shop for handmade pfps with DISCOUNT—FREE for AI pfp users.