Secret Blossom Ball Event Finished

As she said the spell, River's voice called out, "Don't prov-voke it"

The instant the spell came out of her mouth, Katrina knew it had been the wrong thing to do. She lowered her arm in fright and regret. If only she could undo it and swallow her words. If her spell didn't kill the bug- which she knew it wouldn't- the mosp would almost certainly attack her.

Movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. A boy that she didn't quite recognize was doing something. She turned her head a fraction of an inch, as to not provoke the bug further, and to see what he was doing. He was making a motion with his hands that obviously was a "no, wait". With the one regretful look she sent him, she hoped that he could understand that her first intentions were meant to help.

Beside the boy stood a girl. The look of sheer terror of her face increased the guilt in Katrina by a ton. She just pieced together that the one she had targeted was one of the calmer purple ones. What had the 12-year-old done? She should have run away or hid or at least not gone up and provoked it.

As if to call her out further, a voice could be heard over the crowd. "GIVE UP YOUR FLOWERS. THE PURPLE ONE IGNORED ME OVER THE FLOWERS. IF YOU WANT TO LEAVE WALK CAREFULLY PAST IT AND DON’T HURT IT!" Well too late for that. Katrina checked, and sure enough the mosp was only hovering over the flowers on the table. How could she have been so stupid and rash?

With a quiet curse, River was at her side, still maintaining the light on her wand. At least with this dramatic increase in visibility, she was (hopefully) better off at dodging whatever came at her. However, with the aid that another wand had, the chances of the insect attacking River increased. The empathetic part of her heart panged painfully, if River got hurt, it would be all Katrina's fault.

"Are you alright?" A voice behind her.

"Besides the fact that I'm an idiot-- yes, I'm-we're fine" Katrina replied with a low voice only loud enough for the four around her to hear, but also soothing enough to not provoke the mosp further.

"Don’t step too close! The closer you get the more likely they’re going to attack you!" Well, duh-I wasn't planning on that. Katrina bit back the snarky response, she had gotten herself into this mess.

How quickly had she gone from wary to panicked to rash to embarrassed and then to sarcastic. It must be the million gallons of adrenaline now coursing through her veins. It was true that the more dangerous an obstacle, the harder it is on your mind. Her thoughts seemed far too scattered and Katrina began to fight back yet another panic attack.

"I'm sorry everyone," The lioness continued in the same low voice, her words sounded limp and useless, but at least she would have to worry about apologizing. Now it was time to deal with karma.

Free Action: Regretting her decision and talking
Mentioning: @Santario Martin
Interacting with: @Alexis Asterion @Elsian Cox @Logan Baird @River Dewlight
Abilities: Perfectionist
Color: 80BFBF

»»————————-　♔　————————-««
mentions @Anastasia Beckett, @Dale Kurt,
@Ivy Bellamy, @May Moonstar, Mosps
word count 1064 | text colour #274E13
abilities terrible presence | status closed for interactions
»»————————-　♔　————————-««

"Thank you, Astrea and I absolutely have a plan."

As much as Ana proclaimed her possession of a gameplan, Astrea was not entirely convinced- good plans were hard to come by, even for the cleverest and most cunning of Slytherins- but she could not dwell on the manner as murky light began to bloom in the pitch, the buzzing sound ringing loud enough to grow from vaguely ominous to foreshadowing. It seemed that as chaotic as the situation was becoming, at least some people had some common sense to provide some visibility. Speaking of visibility, it seemed that Dale had managed to flub at the first-year spell like a troll. To this, Astrea threw a quick unimpressed look at the suit-clad male before staring upwards once more, her vision swallowing itself as it adjusted slowly.

The Slytherin glimpsed the outline of large wings and dangling proboscis, immediately went 'oh no', and made the quick decision to carefully wedge her wand into the chasm that was suckered up lips and take the fabric of her dress in both hands. Gather, pull under, and grab the sides with both hands. If it wasn't so dark perhaps the dagger strapped securely to her thigh would have stood out as surprising more, but alas, Dale was literally no help with light and Astrea depended only on ideas from years gone by to drop her wand back in her left hand right up against the silky fabric of her dress.

"Both of you, try not to die until I get back."

Get back? Her head snapped back up in surprise, freezing uncharacteristically as she stared in disbelief as Ana sent a smile her way before running off with the vase, the distant light of a collective wave of magic giving her at least some clarity in the moonless night. Ah no. No, she didn't. Absolutely not. Complete blasphemy. With an annoyed tug, the gird was firmly tied up and Astrea gave her remaining companion a polite nod. "Apologies, Dale." She was not sorry. Not a single piece of her was particularly regretful- she only hoped that Dale would actually get his stuff together without managing to critically fail Lumos, of all spells- and was very apparent from the way that she immediately began speedwalking toward the particularly reckless figure that was her fellow aristocrat yelling and waving around flowers.

In the event: Ana's plan works and mosps are flying at her.

The other was not thinking this through, nothing about her "plan" really struck Astrea as helpful in the long-term, but Astrea was also not thinking anything through as she zeroed in onto the yelling sacrifice waving around the crystal vase and sloshing bright blue water with surprising speed- manoeuvring in heels was both a trick and a treat doled out to the high blooded and Astrea had never been more thankful of the humiliating lessons she was forced into as a young child.

The other's familiar accent became clearer the closer she became and Astrea realised with a cold irritation that Ana was attempting to draw the creatures with fire- a good idea, but Jesus Christ couldn't the Gryffindor have executed it without attempting to put her head under the guillotine? Astrea's hurried speedwalking broke into a run- tying up her skirt was the best idea that had happened in the entire ball other than having the guts to approach Ana and Dale previously-, white-knuckled and entirely not here for Ana's martyrdom.

Another girl rushed up to Ana with alarmed concern, armed only with heeled sandles- and no wand. If Astrea was any more uncouth than she was, perhaps she would have cursed. How did Astrea end up getting stuck with the exact opposite of common sense? Any better person would have taken their leave by now, or at least taken up a barricade to defend from. That was the better plan. That was what should have happened. But noo- she had approached Ana and she could not leave the other now, especially not under direct danger.

"Incendio!" The incantation was familiar as it burst forth, wand tip outstretched threateningly at the incoming mosp. If the spell was true to what she was attempting to do, it would graze past the approaching creature in hopes of startling it and set fire to a tablecloth at an unoccupied table.

"Fantastic plan you have here, care to tell me more?" The half-shouted question was dripping with tensely defeated exasperation as she stared down the attacking creatures readily. The could be taken by both girls- the two were more a seesaw of bad decisions than anything really. I mean, who went out to an event without their wand? Who runs out attempting to draw creatures without a decent idea of what to do next? Not people who think things through, that's who.

In the event: Ana's plan does not work and she attempts to attract the mosps forcefully.

The pushed back alarm that had approached her earlier when the lights went out was now attacking Astrea at almost full-force now that she had departed from Dale's presence, an unnerving feeling of surreal panic that fuelled her into picking up the pace to cross the distance. It was dark- the lighting so much dimmer from the golden gaze that had draped itself over the entire pitch and distinctly the silvery-white glow of magic- but her eyes had managed to adjust just enough for her to see where she was going, a lucid-dream quality to everything. Everything seemed in shades of grey past the lights, shadows and figures instead of colours.

A blue-dressed girl dashed into view just as Astrea came into what would have been hearing range if all was normal- but no, it never was-, the brunette's grip against Ana's wrist tight and face strained with urgency. A heavy, breathless sigh forced its way out of Astrea as Ana tossed the ripped off fabric of her pretty pink skirt at a mosp before slamming the vase of peculiar flowers at it, truly and utterly done with everything and anything. To the side, a hysterical white-haired stood screaming- so much help, to stand and scream, most likely first year. Most likely Sparkless-blooded. She skidded in front of the duo with wind-swept grace, white-knuckled and stance ready for action as she immediately disregarded the red-lipped random for her aristocratic familiar- somewhere in between everything, her whirlwind mind conjured up the thought that the two looked strangely alike. Uncanny.

"Your 'plan' seems to be turning out some flaws, care to elaborate?

Active Action:
If Scenario 1 - Attempting to cast Incendio at tablecloth. Void if plan does not work at first.
If Scenario 2 - On guard and assuming defensive state. Void if plan works at first.

TLDR: Astrea is really not on board with whatever Ana is attempting. If Ana's 'plan' works out, she casts Incendio at a tablecloth and readies for battle. If Ana's 'plan' does not work, she asks her fellow aristocrat what the heck are they going to do in a defensive position. Regardless, her opinion on everybody's rational thinking is significantly lowered.

Mildred aimlessly reached for anything to hold onto, eventually, she found herself clutching at her dress, quickly closing her eyes. She stood there amidst the chaos, wishing it was just one bad dream. She heard others yell and maybe even some crying thrown into the mix, it didn't help how the buzzing made it difficult to hear. "Please let this all be one big bad dream" she kept on repeating the mantra over and over in her head.

Eventually, she was snapped out of it when she heard someone yelling- it was Crystal. she stared at Crystal in shock, why couldn't she help also? she felt useless standing there.

useless didn't she always feel that way? it was the same feeling she felt when the fire happened, the same feeling at the birthday party, it was the same everywhere she went.

She hesitantly walked and stood next to Crystal, she was so tired of feeling useless, even if it was something simple as this- she'd do it. She cupped her hands over her mouth to help echo her voice, "PLEASE, IF YOU CAN, USE LUMOS AND TRY HELP THOSE AROUND YOU" she ended as she released one big breath of air, she felt Crystal hand reach towards her and she squeezed crystal's hand as a way of showing, everything will be okay.

hopefully.

she watched as some of her peers were able to cast Lumos and she had to blink a few times to adjust to the dim lights, the buzzing however soon became unbearable- "Ah" Mildred pulled away from Crystal and covered her ears. She looked back up at the sky to see... mosps? flying around, and one heading straight towards them.

The mosps in question were... huge, she'd never seen an insect that large before- it was a shame because they were almost cute, she'd love to have one as a pet if she could. Her attention was brought back into reality when she saw something being thrown at the mosp heading towards them, she looked around and saw the thrower duck under a table, even shouting something aimed towards it beforehand.

It was strangely admirable. Perhaps, they were doing it to save themselves, or crystal and herself. whatever the case was, Mildred was thankful- she wasn't sure if whatever they had thrown at it would hurt the mosp- was that even their goal? she wasn't sure, but she thought she should help. She reached towards the table grabbing a few wrong items at first until she found what she was looking for, the yoohoo bottle. "cursed drink" she mumbled as she aimed towards the mosp and threw it as best as she could.

"Do you think we should go under the table also?" she pointed towards the direction she had seen the girl previously.

Open to interactions!
Interacting with: @Crystal Jagger the seventh moth
Mentioning: @Lizzie Verdine

Action: Throws yoohoo bottle at moth #7 .

Wearing:

Reducio

Too many emotions. Too many priorities. Not enough concern for his own self-preservation.

Selim would have surely been disappointed with him if he'd known what had been going through Jack's head right then. Heck, Jack would have been disappointed with himself if he'd had time to stop and think for a moment. As things were, however, he could hardly process what to worry about first and foremost, let alone think critically on his decision. Impulse what what kept most creatures alive, so impulse was what he acted on. Unfortunately, human impulses could sometimes be drastically different from the survivalist kind - particularly when people one cared about were involved.

When the lights went out, voices - Vladimir's and Opeila's particularly distinguishable among the ones Jack could make out - were shouting about a bag. Many students were quick to illuminate what they could with wand-lighting charms, matches, and - of course Ruka had thought to make torches out of sticks. Why wouldn't he have? With a sudden surge of pride, Jack was glad the second year seemed to have taken the Slytherin's challenge to him seriously. However, as much as he would have liked to join the Gryffindor, he still had reason to remain where he was near the entrance to the ball.

That was where he was able to see them clearest - about two dozen insect creatures with bulbous abdomens brandishing stingers came buzzing in as the source of the earlier noise. Some seemed to be purple in color by the dim light, but the majority were red and seemed to be angry. Jack thought he'd seen them once as he'd flipped through a book on magical creatures, but he hadn't stopped to study the specifics. He hadn't realized he would ever have had to encounter them face-to-face. Why on earth were they even here in the first place? Had someone sent them?

The ever-polite speech of Flash's was audible over the panicked din and buzzing as well, attempting to rally and delegate as best he could. Jack had to admit he was, once again, impressed by his fellow housemate's efforts, but also again, he had to remind himself he had his own problems to worry about. Noticing Persephone by the light of her match as she accompanied Flash at his request, Jack might have liked to offer her the bottle of fire whiskey he'd confiscated from Erin earlier - to use as burning fuel, not to drink - but there was no time to get the bottle, nor to pass it along, much less explain.

Knowing, at least, that Ruka and Flash seemed to be more or less capable of handling themselves in the crisis, Jack next tried to assess Selim's status. The young man had successfully managed to pull Thomas out of the range of Erin's second attack, but when he'd asked the black-garbed Slytherin for instructions on what to do next, Thomas had commanded him to go to 'the bag'. Jack could only presume this was the very one Vlad and Opeila had been yelling about before. Was that a safe thing for Selim to do? Not likely, but Jack found himself less worried than he'd expected. Similar to Ruka and Flash, the Japanese boy had proven enough of his capabilities regarding protecting himself. But then...what did Thomas plan to do?

Thomas' conversational partner from earlier - Santario - was yelling something about people 'giving up their flowers'. That was great advice and all, Jack supposed, but with the majority of the insect creatures not being 'purple ones', he didn't know how much use there would have been in taking the time and trouble to rid himself of all flowers just then. Luckily, no such flying, fat-bottomed things seemed to be going for him, Erin, Thomas, or Oliver for the moment, which was just as well, because that lot was causing their own trouble.

Similar to Jack, Oliver had been calling out the part-veela's name as he hurried up to their little trio. That seemed to have been just about all he could do for the time being, however, as the combined actions of running and yelling had winded him beyond being capable of much else. This was also lucky, because Jack didn't have time for any more antics, interventions, or distractions from the endomorphic pureblood boy. He was too busy playing adult to the older children before him who refused to give up on their foolish quarrel of pride.

Idiots! Jack raged inwardly, absolutely confounded to find that the two 13-year-olds were carrying on with their absurd physical altercation as if the lights hadn't gone out or a swarm of intimidating magical bugs hadn't descended upon them. How could they have been so stupid? The Welsh boy knew they were each very competent individuals on their own; he'd seen glimpses of it. But that knowledge just made their behavior now seem all the more imbecilic in comparison. Both of them knew better. So why did they insist on being such knuckleheads?!

Though the red-haired boy had briefly managed to catch hold of Erin's hand when she reached for him as he reached for her, she just as hastily withdrew it before Jack could think to hold on. He wondered if it was because of what Thomas had said about him being muggle-born, because up until that moment, he had been hopeful to hear Erin call him 'Fox'.

Not only was it something other than 'Parce', but she had refrained from referring to him by the name they both seemed adverse to hearing and using. While she could have just labeled him as 'Jack' to group him with Jackson Warren of the Hufflepuffs, for some reason she had not. Perhaps she detested him too much even to do so...or perhaps she had yet to detest him at all.

It was growing increasingly difficult for Jack to get a grip on just where Erin's head was at as Thomas attempted to incite her all the more. The redhead might have assumed that his words would have had no effect on the part-veela once she had stripped herself of her pendant; the pendant that Jack wondered if anyone else - such as Thomas and Oliver - understood the significance of.

For some strange reason, though, she still seemed gripped by some driving feelings. Was he misunderstanding her motives for having to do with emotions? Was it possible she did possess some naturally, but just not to the extent of other people? Was it a lingering side-effect from having worn the pendant for so long? Or could it have been the pendant's current proximity to its owner?

Whatever the reason, he had no time to ponder it too deeply. The faint motion visible by wand light that came at them from Thomas Lestrange's direction alerted Jack to some unknown, oncoming attack. Behind him, too, he heard and sensed movement, but focused his attention on Thomas as he placed himself directly between the brunet boy and the violet-haired girl. Whipping out his wand from his pocked with a flick of his wrist, he pointed it at the stubborn Lestrange, eyes narrowed in intense irritation.

"Immobulus!"

It was entirely possible that, had Jack been successful in immobilizing his target, he might have had to bear responsibility for Thomas being more susceptible to getting injured or attacked by other forces such as the insects or panicking students. However, since the older boy had already sent Selim away and seemed to have little regard for any other dangers around him aside from Erin, Jack didn't think he really warranted protection from the other threats anyway.

And here Jack had just nearly allowed himself to be impressed with how Thomas had been behaving around the black-haired girl earlier. He found himself disappointed at both Thomas as well as himself, for he should have known better than to think Thomas would have put the 'mission' above his own personal vendetta. How disappointing that he'd actually had some faith in the violent boy only to be let down by human nature yet again, predictable as it was in its vulnerability to emotional impairment.

On the topic of emotional impairment...Jack decided he needed to get through to Erin. If she didn't have her emotions anymore, why was she doing this? Simply as a response to Thomas' behavior? He was no threat to her, though; at least not as far as Jack could tell. Why, then, was she only telling Oliver to run instead of fleeing herself?

Perhaps she simply required a chance to escape. This was exactly what Jack hoped to provide her with if his spell worked. Even if it didn't, his intention in getting between his fellow housemates had been to block their accessibility to each other by using his body as a dividing wall. It may not have been the most intelligent or wise decision, Jack was sure, but emotionally-impaired instincts tended to ruin everything.

Whether he was drop-kicked by Thomas, had his legs swept out from under him by Erin, or both, at least he could have still claimed to have acted with few regrets. This fight needed to stop, and it needed to stop now. The fact that Jack might have been the closest thing the vicious pair had to a voice of reason or an enforcing authority had the Welsh boy especially concerned for all of their mental states.

Action: Attempting to step in the way of Thomas and Erin in order to use the Immobilizing Charm on Thomas.

Stats: | Sta 5 | Eva 7 | Str 3 | Wis 8 | Arc P 6 | Acc 6 |

Interacting with: @Erin Ryan & @Thomas LeStrange
Mentioning: @Vladimir Athanatos, @Opeila Seilun, @Ruka Tân, @Flash Holmwood, @Persephone Barret, @Selim Faust, @Santario Martin, & @Oliver Hart

Thora had successfully cast Lumos, and with that light, they were off towards Arlo and Marion. Distracted, it was not hard to sneak the bag from them, however it was heavier than she expected. Ooomph As she struggled to drag the bag away, the sound of glass clinking inside could be heard.

“Tyranni! No! Don’t touch that. You don’t know what it is!” Arlo had heard the clinking and was quick to run towards her, lunging for the bag. Seeing him come at her, she stepped in front of the bag to block Arlo, placing the bag between her and Thora. "Then why don't you tell me what is in the bag before we fight over this?" There was a good chance she might win should it come down to a fight over gaining possession of the bag, but it's best to avoid extra trouble right now. Suddenly huge disgusting bug creatures appeared from the sky, landing all over the grounds. Seeing the creatures, Arlo called out to Marion for help. "Listen Arlo. There is not need to cause unnecessary injury if you just explain what is in this bag." Slowly moving her left leg backwards, she pushed the bag even further backwards. She took the moment to glance quickly at some of the bugs she could see in other students lights. As long as they stay away from us.

If the boy was able to listen to common sense and reason, she hoped he would tell her what is in the bag since he obviously knew. She did not want to bring harm to the others at the party. In fact, that was the exact opposite reason why she was here. She only came to the ball to attempt to keep other safe, and if Victor had something in this bag that might cause harm, she was going to prevent that. If he did not listen, she would have to think fast about how to react.

Interacting with: @Thora Larkston | @Arlo Reynolds

-Interacting with @Aaron Jones and mosp #9-
-Mentioning @Rafael D'Spacito, @Vladimir Athanatos-
-Open to interactions-

As Lydia successfully casted her spell, the tip of her wand started glowing with a bright light, and she felt incredibly proud of herself; for a second she had doubted she would have been able to successfully use the spell because of the tense nerves she had, but luckily that was not the case. She looked at Aaron, a determined look on her face, and then proceeded to take his hand. "I'm not going anywhere without you," she reassured him and then she started following him towards the edge of the dance floor that was close by the stage. She offered the light of her wand to her friend, as she looked around, the buzzing sound getting stronger and louder; she tried to understand where it was coming from, her eyes scanning over the net of flowers hanging above the pitch, when Rafael's voice got her attention again. Her eyes immediately zeroed on him, just as she say hit successfully hit the guy that was holding him; a weird sense of relief filled the girl for a second, the fact that Rafael was still able to take care of himself meant he wasn't feeling too bad, and Lydia couldn't care less about the fact that he had just punched another student; sure, he had been the first one to start the whole fight, but at the same time the other guy had the upper hand - plus, the Gryffindor boy had been hit with a spell - so she didn't feel too bad about all of that, as long as nobody would het hurt too seriously. Then, in the corner of her eye, she saw something catch fire and she looked towards that direction, seeing a kid (Ruka) light up a torch with a powerful Incendio, and she thought that his idea was not too stupid, since he would have had his wand ready to fight if it wasn’t busy with Lumos.

Lydia looked back at Aaron, chewing on her bottom lip, when she heard some screams and people talking about... mosps? She had no idea of what that word meant, her confusion was written all over her face; she lowered her wand and put it back in her pocket once Aaron was done with examining the candles, and she had started talking to him, when she saw what looked like giant bumblebees descending from the sky. Those must have been the mosps, she thought, and she felt her face loose all the colour as she noticed the two, big, half a foot long stingers attached to the creatures bottom. "A-Aaron," she called her friend, tapping on his shoulder as she took a couple of steps back, her legs bumping into the stage.

A couple of meters away from the two Hufflepuffs, a giant red mosp had just appeared, its angry buzzing growing louder and scarier by the second, as it slowly turned around before settling its eyes on Lydia. The mosp seemed to get upset, for some kind of reason, before it launched itself towards the blue haired girl.

Lydia couldn't help the incredibly high pitched scream that left her lips, as the thing started moving fast towards her - if she wouldn't have been the one screaming, she would have probably covered her ears by how loud she had managed to do that - Then, almost without thinking, and feeling completely driven by a rush of adrenaline, Lydia looked around and took one of the metallic music stand from the stage, the wand long forgotten back in the pocket of her dress - she wouldn't have known effective spells against the mosp anyway, so it wouldn't have been useful. She gripped her hands around the metal, her knuckles white, as she held the music stand as if it was a baseball bat, and once the mosp was close enough, she swung the improvised bat at it, hoping that she would have actually hit it.

Action: attempt to hit the Mosp #9 with a music stand, as if it was a baseball bat

Stats:
Stamina: 5
Evasion: 5
Strength: 5
Wisdom: 5
Arcane Power: 5
Accuracy: 5

Abilities:
Part-veela

Reducio

Lydia's updated outfit

Interacting with @Mildred Wilson
Mentioning @Lizzie Verdine

ACTION: Run towards Lizzie Verdine's hiding spot.

Mentions: @Rafael D'Spacito, @Tyranni Whitethorn, and @Arlo Reynolds.

Actions:
Attack Tyranni with Petrificus Totalus

Race: Human
Abilities: A secret
Stats: STAMINA: 2 EVASION: 8 STRENGTH: 0 WISDOM: 10 ARCANE POWER: 10
ACCURACY: 15

Mentions: @Rafael D'Spacito, @Wren Caster, @Anastasia Beckett

Race: Human
Abilities: A Secret
Stats: Stamina ↣ 2 (+2) Evasion ↣ 10 (+2) Strength ↣ 10 (+2) Wisdom ↣ 3 (+2) Accuracy ↣ 10 (+2) Arcane Power ↣ 10 (+2)

Incendio damages would be critical for both Ana and Victor.

╔══════════════☩══♛══☩══════════════╗

Interacting With: @Anastasia Beckett @Vladimir Athanatos
Mentioning: @Willow Anderson

╚═══════════════☩══✦══☩══════════════╝

Status • Closed to social interactions.

[font=Segoe Print]Ow.

Rafael… really didn’t know how Vladimir did it. What was the guy eating? How was his fist that large? It seemed unproportionable, fickle, a little disturbing even, how much strength was exuded into one blow. Was he cheating magically? Some sort of half-giant? Or was he just… a normal kid, with strength? Wait, was Rafa being pathetic again? What was with all the inward dialogue? Ugh. The boy’s face was throbbing, face searing with a pain that was difficult to put into words, yet agonizing just the same. At the very impact of the older boy’s fist, the Captain had inwardly wilted a little, vision blinded by the spots that seemed to dance before his eyes as all rational thought left his head, replaced with the agony of Vladimir’s wrath. He would let go of Vladimir for a moment, stumbling backwards as the world whirled before his vision – shortly spitting on the ground, he idly took notice of the blood staining his own nice shoes. Shame. Strangely enough, however, it seemed as if the slugs had stopped, the hiccups of invertebrates having sorely left his throat. A small blessing, he decided, in the midst of the shit that had so gracefully hit the fan. Had his punch been successful? Had he utterly failed?

He would not have time to consider such a thought, as with only growing realization, he noticed the darkness that had fallen over the pitch. How long had it been there? Had he… simply gone blind at the force of the third year’s punch? Seemingly not – the stars looked absolutely stunning on such a night, he absently noticed with an inquisitive stare, his eyes widening in wonder as his mouth, lip split, parted in the slightest. Certainly odd, such a sight was, a new inquiry tugging at the folds of the young Captain’s brain – why had the lights gone out in the first place? It was then that he would properly hear the buzzing, an aggravating sort of noise that seemed to fill his head, grating on his last nerve and leaving him shot through-and-through with a sort of cold chill that seemed to pierce his very soul.

Fuck.

Light shortly filled the air, revealing to the collective masses a new sort of monster, one the boy had never seen before in his short eleven years of life. A hideous, monstrous sort of creature, a massive beast with short, mothlike wings and sagging yellow abdomen, two legs hanging ear the bottom, much like that of a wasps. A small head lay on its thorax, holding with it two ominously narrow eyes, and a curled proboscis. Hideous. At the very sight of such a vile animal, the boy grimaced, taking a step back as if in revolt of what his eyes were seeing. What was this monstrosity of a bug? The thought was perplexing, and for a moment, the child was lost in the midst of his own thoughts.

It would occur to him then, that he was utterly unaware of the success of his plan – eyes darting wide for a moment, he suddenly turned about, in search of the lovely Hufflepuff that had assisted him in stealing from Vladimir. As it seemed, Willow was nowhere to be found, amidst the light and confusion circulating the now disastrous ball. Where was she? He could feel a seed of anxiety blossoming in his stomach as he continued searching, his footsteps stumbling in the slightest, compliments of his shaken equilibrium. This wasn’t good, not in the least. Was it that the girl had been caught? Had she gotten away with the bag? Was she okay?

It was in the midst of his inward turmoil, that he would see her – Anastasia was on fire, flames licking about her sullen form as her hands clutched the flowers that he had asked her to watch, black and shriveled from the flames that had torn away at their beauty. The very sight caused the Captain’s eyes to widen, a gasp escaping from his throat as his blood ran cold, face visibly paling in the light of the lumoses that had been cast all around. The sight was sickening, and for a moment, the boy found himself utterly unable to move, his legs frozen and joints locked in the utter fear of what unfolded before his eyes. It was then that his thoughts would catch up to him – he could think nothing, could do nothing, but allow his legs to carry him closer towards the girl, his wand instantly drawn as he neared the scene. His magic had always been faulty, but he couldn’t bear to see her in pain, not when he could do something about it.

He would mutter a short counter-spell, waving his wand about in front of him, before turning, clutching his wand in his hand, knuckles white. Regardless of his plan’s success, he would stand over the girl, his lip wavering in fear and emotion as he brandished his wand, staring into the eyes of any beast that confronted the pair with a fiery sort of vengeance. Should one venture too close, he would use all the strength he might have left to defend the girl he’d endangered. [/font]

Action • Extinguo @ Ana