23 May 2020, 20:31
Secret Blossom Ball
Interacting With: @Erin Ryan
Mentioning: @Jack Burnett, @Ruka Tân, & @Thomas Lestrange
Reducio
Never had a night felt so heavy, so hard and unwilling, stubborn and pushed by the forces of inertia that didn’t cease, no opposition strong enough to break the attendants away from the chaos that trailed upward. Darkness ate the pitch to dust and only left behind the ignition of several wands, almost glowing bugs, and a mundane match, like stars against the ever-darkening blackness. Escape felt imaginative, hopeful, nearly illegal in a mind that was forged to battle, attempting to outrun karma, or perhaps the cruel forces of a sore universe. The plan that had begun to form within the binds of Persephone’s mind, water taking its solid shape, it was melted by the heat of the sun, truth shining down on it in a burning beam. Endeavors that weren’t feasible would have to be tossed aside, especially when the situations around were so deafening that they left no room for coherent thought. She would have to do what she came for and couldn’t believe the previous mindset of abandoning it. Abandoning him.
Of course, he didn’t need her, the phrase abandonment was used in such a light and weightless way that they couldn’t be taken to the depth of a stone-cold heart, plentiful around. It was more like abandoning herself. Persephone prided herself, held the significance on a pedestal, on never underestimating the capabilities of someone. This perpetual quality, lifesaving and dooming, it was doubled for him, given the traumatic experiences. Many people, the nameless, were incapable of enduring such treatment, explosive yet never posing a threat. Perhaps the gift would be her way of apologizing, something that was deemed necessary by the shattered fraction of her soul that contained compassion. That voice, however, was so shrill and high-pitched that its droning had been dulled to the background for several years now; this wasn’t an apology. Apologies were weak; the blonde didn’t want one from him, either. In fact, that would be rather disappointing. But the strings were pulled, tight enough to nearly rip the rings from the flesh of her back, arms, and legs. Tight enough to cause agony with no physical stimulus.
Shifting her weight, still attempting to conceal herself in the heaviest of the shadows, Persy crept along further, eyes adjusted just enough to make out the silhouettes of obstacles. In all honesty, the pirates were on to something; having an eye-patch over her left and dominant eye, that would aid significantly in endeavors such as this. Being thrown in a dungeon, for example. How was Persephone to have expected this, though? Common sense, obviously. Anyone could’ve expected it, nothing in large events would ever go properly, according to plan. February loomed like a creature of the night. If things went according to plan, anarchy such as this wouldn’t emit and disgruntle an entire population. A more arrogant thought process, mystery to none, had convinced the girl that leaving the volcano when it showed signs of eruption would be simple: find the door and use it as intended. However, the lightning stored in the bottle had shimmered faster than one could blink, and the purpose was not fulfilled. It was daunting, really, to leave things incomplete.
Just as these thoughts concluded, this inner scolding for the lack of preparation regarding blackness, the candles above flickered. It was almost as though the fights, suddenly visible and nearly overwhelming, had summoned their presence once again, an act of sympathy and benefit. With a flick of her wrist, the gush of air stole the flame from the match in her hand and it was dropped to the floor, discarded. Twelve more remained in the box, a somewhat comforting number, though that light may no longer be necessary. Instead, their greater purpose could meet, the beckoning of a monster that wasn’t understood. Power extracted from that lack of control, something that couldn’t be replicated, not by an artist, psychologist, or Persephone herself. Under the lights, whimsical and unfitting for the horror before them, the situation that captivated the important parties became visible.
The first thing that skulked into view as Persephone eased forward was Jack Burnett lying on the floor, the apparent victim of some kind of attack. It could’ve been the lingering of an image of the light held in her hands, something that was now forsaken like worn items, but, in a peculiar way, the boy looked like a match. [I am so sorry for this comparison.] Pale stick with a fire ablaze at the top, the physical comparisons were there. But it was more so that look, haunted in a way of suppression and probably imagined into existence, the appearance as though he would burn out at any second. Become useless. Be discarded. Or, in one final exertion, set the room on fire. Not that it was necessary; glancing around, that would be a bitter case of repetition. Standing above him, a mask of goodness and purity bringing nausea, Ruka. The magnetic effect between her forest eyes and his being didn’t cease; caution would keep her gaze locked, almost paranoia, and the fact that the battle went on wouldn’t be recognized quickly.
Denial. Maybe. It wouldn’t be something that would consume the blonde’s thoughts now, but perhaps another time. Why did she stand here? Scanning the scene, almost robotically, in search of something, there was nothing. No reason, no clarity, and damn sure no benefit to resting under the guillotine, as if it were where she belonged. It wasn’t a brand of surrender, not a Great Value white flag or a greatly repressed wish for punishment, those things were the objects of nightmarish creatures. It lied more in relevancy. Days later, if the odds of survival ruled in her favor, it could be one of the demons that soothed her to rest, the idea of craving status. Personified as Evelynn. Personified as Ruka. Displayed in acts of irrational judgement, like the crimes she longed to commit right now. The ones she would.
“I’m impressed at the sheer number of people who seem to dislike you.” She whispered, a nearly inaudible declaration referring to Thomas, a wand being pulled in his direction. The attacker, recognizable by that tint of her hair, the most vivid Persy’s vision had ever been, was familiar. Memories of the party surfaced once again, like flashbacks, the influential words the girl had said echoing. Whatever twisted relationship that lie between Jack and this oddly stunning girl, it seemed to have deteriorated by the sight of him down, and her eyes fixed on the nemesis of the hour. Pity could’ve arisen from that, but if anything had been made clear, Thomas knew how to earn his hatred. She couldn’t doubt he’d provoked the girl. She also couldn’t doubt that the girl was easily provoked.
In that second, the desire to leave relit, feeling finally returning to hands that felt numb. No matter how robust and burdening the weight of that was, Persy needed to finish what she’d began, ideally in a relatively fleeting moment. Luck was fantasy, though, along with karma and all other higher powers. Life would inevitably be reduced to probability. Proper judgement took time, energy, nothing that Persephone possessed now, nothing that could be gained through standing tranquil in warning of the angel nearby. Irrationality was all that lied in her hands, risk and danger at least fueling something within that which was void of everything else.
No expression would grace that ghostly portrait of irrational judgement, like it was second nature and an innate behavior that was programmed within Persephone. Diving forward, thought process still present but so rushed and messy that nothing beyond that was clear, the blonde would attempt to kick the girl in the back of her knee. It was determined beforehand that no side would be taken, that warranted later involvement that Persy would best circumvent, truthfully for mutual benefit. The mindset to remain apathetic, wishfully, was part of the reasoning why the action was so non-violent; nothing exceeding an attempt to hinder her aim or efficiency by a feeble-in-comparison kick, that was dependent. It didn’t have a bearing if the girl fell, in fact, that would be worse than if she was just inconvenienced enough to befoul the spell. Regardless of whether she was successful in this attempt, a chance so trivial it was nearly sickening, Persy would say a quiet reminder. “Any other day, I’d thank you.” It wasn’t clear whether that was directed at the girl, or herself.
Action: Be a complete idiot. Kick Erin in the back of the leg.
Stats: Sta: 8 | Eva: 4 | Str: 5 | Wis: 7 | Arc: 5 | Acc: 6
Ability: Fearless
TL;DR: Persephone gets lost in her thoughts a lot, registers the presence of a few people, and eventually makes the terrible decision to kick Erin in a very non-heroic fashion.
Don't talk like one of them, you're not. Even if you'd like to be. - Heath Ledger
Sta: 9 | Eva: 5 | Str: 7 | Wis: 7 | Arc: 5 | Acc: 7
23 May 2020, 21:05
Secret Blossom Ball
Seeing Vladimir kick Willow, was like watching a wolf bite a scared baby rabbit. Wrong, it was all wrong. Willow was her friend, why would she go to the ball with a boy that was a lot taller and stronger than both of them and who kicked the little girl. It was all wrong. Opeila had not dared to go any further to stop Vlad from hurting people for now, she had been to scared of Vladimir's reaction- What if he would hurt her like Rafa?- but she would not let him hurt Willow again.
When Vladimir pointed his wand at Willow, her look got determined. She held her wand tighter. I will burn you. I will put you on fire like Victor. His words disgusted her. He would not hurt Willow. Opeila would not allow it.
But he didn't cast a spell on Willow. Opeila still held on to his sleeve, so she could feel his body tense before the kick. A splitsecond for her to get prepared.
When his one foot got off the ground, Opeila kicked the back of the knee of the leg he was still standing on with all the strength she had. If she would succeed, if her kick would make him fall, she would point her wand at him.
Action: Attempts to kick Vladimir's back of his knee to make him fall before he can kick Willow.
@Vladimir Athanatos @Willow Anderson @Rafael D'Spacito
Last edited by Opeila Winters on 24 May 2020, 20:51, edited 1 time in total.
24 May 2020, 01:16
Secret Blossom Ball
Thomas’ ambitions to divert from the group and approach Marion were short lived. Erin Ryan was not having it. Despite the pitch that has now become a battleground for literally securing the bag. Combined with a firework show that would have been pleasant if not illuminating the buzzy overgrown wasps of purple or reddish tint. The euphonious orchestra now replaced with the fiery screamo, accentuated by their lead, the pi-ana-o. Background vocals featuring Victor. If not for Thomas’ preoccupied status with a purple assailant, he may have considered helping his only dance partner (Vic) this evening. Gaining the trust of an enemy was an approach he has taken before, the con was tedious, but effective when the right cards are played. Fortunately, the blazing pair of students had several willing rescuers. Including the embodiment of fire herself, a girl Thomas did not know, but would have taken to the dance in a hot minute. Maybe one day he will gather the courage to go up to her. [Sorry, bad puns]
Erin Ryan insisted no further delay, this impending battle to the death must go on. To rattle the bones again, even after their inclination to favor Tommy. “What was it you said about desire to stay relevant?” Thomas swiftly turned back to face her, torch waved through the air, brightening the contrasting ice cold stare at Ryan. “Heed your own advice and piss off.” If it was any consolation, Erin declined the opportunity at a free shot when Thomas turned his back. She fought fairly, which is more than he can say for a certain emotionally ridden blonde.
Ah, speaking of, Persephone Barret emerged from behind, approaching Erin with sinister grace. The blonde tosser certainly more visually appealing without her soppy streams. Thomas learned very quickly this illusion of self-pity did not inhibit drastic actions. Naturally, Thomas could only assume her intentions were not in his best interest. Surely, she would unite with Erin, furthering his disadvantage with multiple opponents. Thomas eyed the blonde on approach, his irritation faded into a smug grin, glancing at an imaginary watch on his wrist. “Barret. Didn’t receive the memo? Group therapy sessions were held in the afternoon.”
Erin retrieved her wand and she did not appear hesitant to use it. Thus, a misbegotten plan was formed, warranting a glance to the firefox by his side. He spoke softly so the others would not hear, urgency breached his tone. “We need to get to Marion.” He took a few steps towards Erin, but several yards still remained between them. Fire torch still in his dominant left hand, he used his other to retrieve the flask containing multiple servings of fire-whiskey[inventory screenshot available upon request]. Once in his grasp, he used his pointer finger and thumb to unscrew the top, letting it fall to the grass below. “If we’re going to do this, I need a drink.”
Thomas brought the flask to his lips, a miniscule swig to further the intentions behind this play. With a few more steps, Thomas tilted the flask towards the ground, coating the pitch below. Pouring one out for the homies (Howard). Once the last few drops departed, he dropped the flask as his X, the target he would aim for in this toss to follow. Lastly, Thomas transferred the torch to his dominant hand, and attempts to toss the torch near the flask. It was time to embrace his inner-huffle. The intention to create a wall of fire that would send the part-veela backing away, allowing Thomas and firefox an opportunity to get away freely. If anything, a symbolic moment, to signify the end of Erin and Thomas. At least for now. Besides, all the cool kids were doing it.
Thomas hopped back from the potential burst of flame, additionally with the intention to avoid an unscripted fire-dance. Something his new counterpart knew a thing or two about. If he was not hit by her spell, he would flee, beckoning the firefox, sights returning to Marion.
"Tommy. Your fight is still with me"
Erin Ryan insisted no further delay, this impending battle to the death must go on. To rattle the bones again, even after their inclination to favor Tommy. “What was it you said about desire to stay relevant?” Thomas swiftly turned back to face her, torch waved through the air, brightening the contrasting ice cold stare at Ryan. “Heed your own advice and piss off.” If it was any consolation, Erin declined the opportunity at a free shot when Thomas turned his back. She fought fairly, which is more than he can say for a certain emotionally ridden blonde.
Ah, speaking of, Persephone Barret emerged from behind, approaching Erin with sinister grace. The blonde tosser certainly more visually appealing without her soppy streams. Thomas learned very quickly this illusion of self-pity did not inhibit drastic actions. Naturally, Thomas could only assume her intentions were not in his best interest. Surely, she would unite with Erin, furthering his disadvantage with multiple opponents. Thomas eyed the blonde on approach, his irritation faded into a smug grin, glancing at an imaginary watch on his wrist. “Barret. Didn’t receive the memo? Group therapy sessions were held in the afternoon.”
Erin retrieved her wand and she did not appear hesitant to use it. Thus, a misbegotten plan was formed, warranting a glance to the firefox by his side. He spoke softly so the others would not hear, urgency breached his tone. “We need to get to Marion.” He took a few steps towards Erin, but several yards still remained between them. Fire torch still in his dominant left hand, he used his other to retrieve the flask containing multiple servings of fire-whiskey[inventory screenshot available upon request]. Once in his grasp, he used his pointer finger and thumb to unscrew the top, letting it fall to the grass below. “If we’re going to do this, I need a drink.”
Thomas brought the flask to his lips, a miniscule swig to further the intentions behind this play. With a few more steps, Thomas tilted the flask towards the ground, coating the pitch below. Pouring one out for the homies (Howard). Once the last few drops departed, he dropped the flask as his X, the target he would aim for in this toss to follow. Lastly, Thomas transferred the torch to his dominant hand, and attempts to toss the torch near the flask. It was time to embrace his inner-huffle. The intention to create a wall of fire that would send the part-veela backing away, allowing Thomas and firefox an opportunity to get away freely. If anything, a symbolic moment, to signify the end of Erin and Thomas. At least for now. Besides, all the cool kids were doing it.
"Tarantallegra"
Thomas hopped back from the potential burst of flame, additionally with the intention to avoid an unscripted fire-dance. Something his new counterpart knew a thing or two about. If he was not hit by her spell, he would flee, beckoning the firefox, sights returning to Marion.
Action: Pour firewhisky(3) on the pitch | Toss flame torch into said firewhisky
Mentions&Interactions: @Ruka Tân @Erin Ryan @Jack Burnett @Oliver Hart @Persephone Barret
Honorable mention: @Anastasia Beckett @Astrea Soleil Neptune ~ first para
We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be
Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 7 | Wisdom: 8 | ArcPower: 3 | Accuracy: 7
Ability - Evasive Maneuvers 2x
24 May 2020, 03:04
Secret Blossom Ball
As Aaron's leg spun through the air, he was disappointed that it did not collide with anything. Instead, he landed back on his two feet with no target in sight. A loud thwack! from behind him alerted him to the sequence of events. It was clear now that the mosp had dodged Aaron's kick (or maybe he had just aimed completely wrong in the dark), and it had gone for Lydia after all. He turned on his heel to see Lydia skillfully dodging the creature's HUGE stingers. Those things honestly looked lethal to a couple of first years.Interacting with @Lydia Cooper
"I've got your back!" Aaron said to Lydia as she dropped the music stand. He reached down to retrieve it, imagining it would probably be more useful than his own fists and feet. Especially in the dark. He heard another buzzing noise and saw another mosp appear out of seemingly nowhere and go after Lydia. "Watch out!" he called, just a little too far to protect her at this point.
Thankfully, she heard him (and the bug), and she was able to dodge out of the way again. Aaron couldn't keep a grin off his face at Lydia's quick reactions. She really was capable of taking care of herself, and he was proud! She had even knocked some sense into one of them. But now - now was not the time to dwell on this. Lydia rushed behind the stage for the fireworks, and Aaron would be right behind her. He had to make sure she was successful in getting those flares lit. They needed help from the Hogwarts professors.
Suddenly, before he made it anywhere, the lights flickered back to life. Aaron had only a minute to blink and let his eyes readjust. A glance around the ball revealed a crap ton of these bug creatures, and- was that- fire?? But he didn't have time to dwell on the scene before him. His heart was pounding as he turned on his heel. The black-haired wizard ran after his best friend.
"AHHHHHHH!" he yelled, hoping to distract and grab at least one of the beast's attention. As he reached Lydia, he took up a defensive stance in front of her yet again, this time confident that he would hit one of the ghastly creatures. The lights were on (for whatever reason), and he could see his target clearly. He twisted the music stand back and swung.
Action: Yelling and swinging at the first mosp that moves to attack Lydia
PC: Aaron Jones | iNPC: Madeleine Nakamura | Former staff account: Marcus Iwasaki
2nd Gen PC: Idalia della Torre
Best way to contact me? Discord or owl Idalia
24 May 2020, 10:14
Secret Blossom Ball
Percival's eyes widened as the lights came on in full force. Now seeing the creature completely.Reducio
The boy could indeed tell that the bug was a disgusting vile little thing. The bug was way too close for comfort. Even though it wasn't close enough to attack just yet.
Percival froze as Hanako yanked his arm away from him. The boy's face carried it's own sense of bewilderment and confusion as he watched his friend.
Here he was trying to save his friend from this large looking bee, and Hanako had the audacity to fight him on this. Percival knew Hanako could be stubborn sometimes, but he had thought the boy would have made an exception for him.
"You would've gotten hurt Hana!" he said automatically using the boy's nickname. His eyebrows furrowed together as he began to feel hurt blossom deep in his heart like a thorn. To him the other boy was acting rash and stupid.
Percival flinched slightly as the other raised his voice. Percival did his best to convince himself, the tears in his eyes were just allergies. Though as the tears began to well up in his eyes it showed the bitter truth.
Percival turned away not wanting for Hanako to see him get so close to caring. It was bad enough he had already cried in front of the boy on two separate occasions.
"Fine, see if I care!"he called after the other. Percival fisted his hands before turning in the opposite direction towards the dance floor.
[Percival leaves the group]
As the boy walked away he wiped at his eyes furiously. As he walked away the guilt of leaving his friend began to weigh at him.
His parents had always warned him that acting too soft would only lead to trouble. Sometimes he wondered why he couldn't be as cold and heartless as his other family members. He just wished for his feelings to go away.
Percival was stuck in a dilemma. He wondered if he should actually turn around and go after Hanako. The boy, as cunning as he could be, could be very stupid.
He glanced behind him wondering if the other would be looking back as well, and he wasn't. 'Of course, he isn't.' he thought to himself. Percival bit his lip slightly to distract himself.
It would do no good for Percival to continue to think about the subject. He debated just going back to the dorm, but that would mean walking back towards Hanako. The boy slowed down in his endless walking to see a fairly interesting sight.
In front of him was a group of people, and from the looks of it, it looked like utter chaos. A well-dressed boy, who looked like he honestly belonged at Durmstramng rather than Hogwarts, was roundhouse kicking a girl he didn't know.
Percival glanced down a little further to see the familiar form of Selim. The boy was his dormmate, but that didn't mean he knew the boy very well. Honestly, the boy seemed fairly cryptic and mysterious. Percival had left the boy alone, and Selim had done the same. Though that didn't mean that Perc didn't care for his well-being.
His curiosity won out and completely took over as he approached the situation with furrowed brows. Selim seemed to be searching through another person's bag. He mainly came to this conclusion seeing how Percival had never personally seen the boy carrying such a bag. Which meant the bag had to belong to someone close by.
Percival faintly picked up some of the words Selim had said. 'Mission' and 'out of my way' were the only parts he could pick up. From where Selim seemed to be looking, it was clear he was talking to the very scary looking dude.
It occurred to Percival that the bag probably belonged to this scary look dude. Once he realized who's bag it was, Percival began to doubt how much time the boy had left before he too could be a kicking victim. In an attempt to protect Selim from ever getting kicked . He began to think about what would distract the scary-looking boy from hurting anyone any further then he already had. If Percival could distract him long enough, Selim would be able to finish whatever he was doing and hopefully sneak away.
Just from vision alone, Percival was clearly not stronger than this boy. Not only was this boy older than him, but he also looked stronger then him. Percival also doubted his reasoning skills, and he wasn't sure if he could actually reason with the boy. He hadn't been able to reason with Hanako, and compared to this boy, Hanako looked like a shrimp.
It then occurred to him that maybe he could try to flirt with the other boy. The thought sounded rash and completely stupid even in his own head. Though the boy was out of any other ideas He couldn't successfully mediate or fight the other. In the past, Percival had been told he was easy on the eyes, so maybe he could at least distract the boy long enough to keep Selim safe. Though he hoped he wouldn't distract the boy by being his new punching bag.
Percival awkwardly smoothed out the creases in his white dress shirt. The whole running around the ball screaming had really caused the shirt to crease. As he began to focus on what he would say, the boy broke out into a cold sweat as he realized he could very well crawl away injured. Though he forced the thought from his mind. Percival would not let himself to back down now. He was a Rainwood, and Rainwood's weren't know to back down so easily.
Percival, who had been standing a little ways behind Vladamir, slowly slid into Vladamir's peripheral view. His mouth went parch as he realized he really could not back down now. Percival raised his hands and did two finger guns at the other boy.
[Attempts flirtation on Vladimir]
"You must be a campfire. Because you're super hot and I want s'more." he said loud enough so the boy would be able to hear him.
As Percival stood there, he gave his best grin at the boy, and waited for the boy to react.
Sats: Stamina 6 | Evasion 5 | Strength 7 | Wisdom 4 | Arcane Power 8 | Accuracy 5
Ability: Foulplay
Action: Percival upset at Hanako for fighting against his help. Decides to leave the group including Althea, Kara, Hanako, and Adam H. Percival sees Selim getting into trouble, and decides to try and give the boy time to finish and escape. Percival decides to try and distract Vladamir by using a pickup joke on him.
Interacting with: @Vladimir Athanatos
Interacted with: @Hanako Tone
Mentioned: @Althea Valeden @Kara Capricorn @Adam Harringtom
Mentions: @Selim Faust
Last edited by Percival Rainwood on 26 May 2020, 00:23, edited 2 times in total.
"I doubt you'll remember me with a smile."
iNPC Mikael Halldorson
24 May 2020, 18:14
Secret Blossom Ball
The first cupcake erupted on target in near unison with the pastry thrown by Atlas. Both cupcakes exploded in sugary goodness on the mosp. Ethen never believed it would actually cause much in terms of damage but as long as he could distract it from hurting others he would feel like he wasn't useless in the chaos. But with the mosp's attention, Ethen suddenly realized that it would be him in danger. He had dealt with irritated creatures trying to get him for most of his life and felt confident that he could handle whatever the large creature had to offer. Crouching as the mosp turned to strike, Ethen easily dove out of the way.Interacting with @Atlas Reid
In his excitement, Ethen dove straight into a bench and toppled over it landing on his back. The familiar cold ground beneath him was a disquieting notion as he knew the creature would be readying another attack. "Atlas! Don't you have some fancy schmancy magic from reading all those books," he called out hoping for a bit of relief as he hobbled back to his feet. Deeply wishing he had kept a few of the fireworks on him, Ethen searched around for something to use.
His eyes fell upon a decently sized and plump lemon cake. It was a beautiful thing. Its frosting looked like it had been done by a professional and each inch of the cake looked like it would be sugary bliss. But this was no time to enjoy the decadence of the white and yellow cake. Ethen knew sacrifices had to be made and he wasn't about to but his appetite over the safety of those he cared about. "Come on! Bee careful, you bugged the wrong hungry student," Ethen taunted the mosp as he hoisted the cake above his head. "Lets teach it a lesson Atlas!" As the words left his lips he put all his strength into throwing the large cake directly at the Mosp's head hoping to obscure its vision.
Actions: Attempting to throw a large lemon cake, with particularly nice frosting, at the head of mosp 8.
Stamina: 7/ Evasion: 7 / Strength: 5/ Wisdom: 13 / ArcPower: 6 / Accuracy: 8
Broom: Silver Arrow
24 May 2020, 18:55
Secret Blossom Ball
There are moments where things don’t always go they way we plan them. Often times this leads to no big consequence, and results in an inconvenience at most.Open to Interactions
This was not one of those times.
This was one fo those times where things went horribly wrong.
The dice were Fate was not on on Maria’s side today, because instead of casting Incendio on a hanging bunch of flowers, her spell backfired and burned her instead. She wasn’t sure if she had said it wrong or did the wand movements too quickly, but it was bad. Bright red flames enveloped her hand and forearm, singeing everything in their wake. A combination shock, heat and pain made the Hufflepuff drop her wand, and just as quickly as the flames appeared, they were gone. However, the damage had been done. The acrid smell of burnt flesh made its way to her nose, making her gag. Her arm was an angry red, areas of burnt and blistered skin covering a lot of the surface – and it hurt. Sweet mother of the Good Wizard on High did it hurt. The pain made her curl up as if to protect her injury, mouth open in a silent scream. This was the first time she had seriously gotten hurt since she started learning magic, and to have had it happen in an emergency situation was not good for her psyche.
Her brain knew she had to do something, but she was in too much pain to think clearly. Once again, she was reminded that Hufflepuffs and fires were a dangerous combination. Now she was wandless in the middle of what could be described as a mosp feeding frenzy. She hated feeling helpless, but without a wand or the use of both of her hands, that was exactly what she was right now.
“Help!” She shouted, trying to get anyone’s attention. She also silently hoped the pain would come to pass soon, and she would at least be able to think of a way out. But for now, all she could do was call for help and hope that mosps weren’t attracted to the smell of burning Hufflepuff.
Action: Calling for help, thinking of a way to help herself and looking for her wand.
Tryna solve a problem like Maria.
Stats:Stamina 8||Evasion 7||Strength 5 || Wisdom 8 || Arcane Power 8 ||| Accuracy 9
24 May 2020, 19:28
Secret Blossom Ball
Interacting With @Ethen Emrys and the 8th Mosp
Atlas couldn't help but let out a loud laugh as both cupcakes bullseye the mosp covering it in cake and frosting. She was actually more impressed with their aim as she had predicted the attack to not go as smoothly. She could tell the mosp was getting agitated and a part of her felt bad as it wasn't the mosp's fault it was attacking it was just attracted to the flowers everywhere.
Looking around she could see a myriad of ways the other students were fighting off the mosps as she was pulled from her train of thought by Ethen toppling over a bench. Between the two of them it was shocking they ever got anything accomplished with all of their clumsiness hindering them. Watching as Ethen quickly picked himself back up, Atlas was thankful he hadn't been injured as he interrogated her asking her about the spells she had been practicing.
"Right magic....yeah that might be a tad more useful..." Atlas replied pulling her wand from her boot as she flipped it in her hand feeling the round curves that fit her fingers perfectly. Turning to see what Ethen was doing, Atlas saw him grappling with a large cake as she feared it would be too much for the little creature. She had no idea why she cared so much about the little bug but a part of her liked the way he looked and that despite being pelted with two cupcakes he was still feisty enough to attack them.
Seeing Ethen balancing a large cake in his hands, she thought quick on her feet running through her known spells in her head. The pyro in her wanted so desperately to perform Incendio but she knew it would severely injure the mosp as she quickly blurted out, "Wingardium Leviosa!" aiming her wand at the mosp to get it out of the way of the flying cake as well as to get it far enough away that it couldn't easily attack them.
ACTION: Attempting to cast the Levitation Charm to move the 8th mosp out of the way of the cake and higher into the air.
Stamina: 15 / Evasion: 18 / Strength: 4 / Wisdom: 10 / ArcPower: 7 / Accuracy: 22
Broom: Varapidos
25 May 2020, 00:17
Secret Blossom Ball
Mildred wasn't sure why she didn't run towards Lizzie hiding spot like Crystal did, she wasn't sure why she had just stood there- she could have sworn she was about to take a step heading into their direction when everything had happened so suddenly. The giant mosp in question had flown in so quickly and had pierced her right in the chest. It strangely didn't hurt at first, she was most likely in shock- she had taken a step forward and immediately fell down onto her knees in pain.
She stared at the cold ground for a moment, "Think!" she mentally scolded herself, what could she do? The pitch was still dark, except for the few spots with dim light- there was no way she could move far in this condition, she didn't have anything with her... unless; she thought of her wand. She reached into her pockets, and the sudden realization of she didn't bring her wand with her hit her like a bucket of cold water being dumped on her, she had completely forgotten that she had left her wand with chicken in case he needed it right before she tucked him in.
She fumbled around patting down her dress for anything she could use when she had pressed on her wound and yelped when she saw her hand was stained with blood, it was that moment when it had fully hit her that she was stabbed by the mosp, if the blood-stained part of her dress didn't show her that already.
The full extent of the situation made Mildred head hurt and swarm with thoughts of what's going to happen, is she going to die here? she was snapped out of her thoughts by a new voice next to her, "how do you know that? If I'm going to be okay..." Perhaps, Mildred should have been kinder, she remembered that's what she said to jake too during the fire- how could anyone know if it's really going to be okay?"Ah.. name's mi.. milk." She winced from the pain in her chest, she wasn't sure what had stung her- what species of moth it was, and if it's stings had any lasting effects.
"Li-zz-ie" Mildred sounded out her name,"You have a pretty name." she hummed to Lizzie's statement of "it was going to hurt", she wasn't sure if she could be in more pain. She heard the noise of fabric being torn and felt pressure onto her wound, in which she made a small noise of disapproval. "T-thank you... you didn't have to do that." She pointed to her town dress while using her other hand she held the fabric onto her wound, "I was the one who got the mosp upset anyways."
She looked up at Lizzie, to only find her chucking another glass at the beast. "WAIT-" she frowned at Lizzie throwing the cup, "you shouldn't have done that!" she whisper shouted towards Lizzie, "It's going to go after you now!" She wasn't quite sure if the mosp was really going to go after Lizzie, or it had a weird obsession with her- however, she didn't want to test it out. She watched as Lizzie look quite regretful, or some sort of emotion. She didn't want Lizzie to get hurt like her, however, she didn't want to get stung again- she looked around and remembered that Crystal was under a table. Mildred unclipped one of her frog earrings and tried it to the best of her ability and threw it at the mosp. Mildred quickly squeezed Lizzie's hand, "You should hide with Crystal...". she waved her arms in the air to hope that the mosp would focus on her, Mildred looked around and started to crawl under the nearest table, her plan was mainly to have the mosp go for her and maybe she could hide under the table for a while.
Open to interactions!
Interacting with: Mosp #7 @Lizzie Verdine
Mentioning: @Crystal Jagger
Action: tries to gain the mosp #7 attention by throwing her earring at it and yoinks herself under a table to hide
it looks like Mildred has dumb brain just like me ooc!!
Last edited by Mildred Wilson on 25 May 2020, 17:58, edited 1 time in total.
STAMINA: 4 EVASION: 5 STRENGTH: 4 WISDOM: 8 ARCANE POWER: 7 ACCURACY: 7
~spare braincells?~
25 May 2020, 01:09
Secret Blossom Ball
~🏵~
Interactions: @Anastasia Beckett | @Bridget Collins | @Tyranni Whitethorn
Mentions: Marion Davenport | Arlo Reynolds | Thomas Lestrange | Erin Ryan | Rafael D'Spacito | Amara Dragamior
Closed for interactions unless owled and approved.
Fire was a bit of a problem. And even though it was a provider of warmth, as well as something that was probably not nearly as threatening as she saw it, Thora was quite frankly afraid of it—and with good reason. Her first (and so far, only) duel had seen quite a few bouts of flame, and though it had been a long time since she'd thought about any part of it, the scent of smoke clinging to her clothes still stuck with her. Getting set on fire was not fun. Not at all.
Perhaps it was this memory, or the newly summoned one of the Masquerade, that forced her to turn despite the scuffle she was already dealing with. She would seem almost in a trance as she tried to snatch the bag away from the other boy's grasp, perhaps resulting in her failure to obtain it. Brought back to the present as the fabric was suddenly ripped from her tight fist, Thora's head finally snapped back to face the small boy as she slowly uncurled her fingers.
How? The question tore through her mind as a blush crept up her neck and to her cheeks, though it would be invisible, thanks to the lack of light. She couldn't deny that she was weak (in fact, she was quite painfully aware of it), but still, she'd thought she'd be able to gain the upper hand against the much smaller boy.
"No—" she started as Marion's spell was successful, making Tyranni fall backwards straight onto the ground. Thora knew that she'd given the older girl absolutely no reason to like her, so she couldn't deny her trying to protect herself. Still, though she hadn't known her deputy Quidditch Captain for long, they were allies. Marion would pay later for hurting her. Now a bit angry, the girl glanced down, ready to free Tyranni from the Full-Body Bind, but Bridget beat her to it. Thora nodded quickly, before straightening back up. All good. She'd have been more than happy to help out—she'd actually come with the first year, after all, so felt quite responsible—but as for who managed to free her, the second year didn't exactly care. As long as it worked.
But suspicion quickly rose, washing away the embarrassment as she clung onto each of Arlo's words, searching for a deeper meaning. He'd said something like they would hurt Marion with the contents of the bag, and that by taking it, he was ensuring safety. Why, that was a curious thing to say, wasn't it? Honestly, under normal circumstances, Thora couldn't care less about a random bag which she could only assume belonged to Victor, but seeing how it was vied for, and according to what the small boy had just said, it was important. So naturally, being as curious as she was, she wanted it.
She narrowed her eyes as Thomas arrived, evidently desiring the bag in Arlo's clutches, followed by a certain Slytherin beater, who was easily recognizable by the bright purple hues of her hair. As to play off the rising apprehension, she took a couple steps back. First of all, Thora couldn't trust either of them, and she couldn't help but be a little scared of Erin. She'd seen the damage she could do on the Quidditch pitch, after all.
Close behind followed the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, and she couldn't help but bite her lip. She'd attempted to Flipendo him several times last SWAG game, and while she saw the matches as friendly competition, she could never tell what other people thought about them. Hopefully, he didn't hold a grudge, because Thora knew she wouldn't be able to grab the bag, with all these other people attempting to as well and her utter lack of strength. And if the captain got it, she'd have to get him to tell her what was inside. It was the only option left.
It was made obvious to the girl that she had no place here, and that do something now would get her hurt—and while she could handle pain perfectly well, now wasn't the time. She still had a job to do. It seemed that the exact job for her would reach her by way of screaming, as Thora turned away from the bag and towards the source. "Sorry," she muttered to Bridget as the fire reflected off of her green eyes and screams rang in her head, "I'll be right back. Fire—" she gestured vaguely across the pitch.
And with that, she spun on her heel, beelining away. She hated to desert those she'd promised herself to work with—and her best friend, for that matter—but some things came first. As Thora saw it, a burning girl was one of those things. It was a good thing she'd dressed casually, as she could run unhindered across the pitch to the unmistakable fire, made even brighter by the otherwise dark Quidditch pitch.
As she approached, the Slytherin flinched as someone tossed a bucket of ice at the burning girl. It certainly wasn't the best idea, but who was she to judge? She'd come to help, after all. Images of the burning wooden dancefloor in the ballroom emerged from the depths of her memory, followed by everything else that had come with the fateful night, and it was all Thora could do to force them back down, down where they wouldn't reappear again. At least, not tonight. She couldn't afford to give in to her old habit, her old weakness.
She couldn't help but swallow hard as she neared the flames. The heat was already beginning to redden her otherwise pale face, and as she realized that the sounds of the poor girl's screams would probably be seared into her memory forever, Thora skidded to a stop, contemplating turning for the first time. Running and hiding was an amazing idea, right now. Instincts whispering at the back of her head pushed her to protect herself, and that everyone else's wellbeing could come later. And even though these thoughts were quickly pushed away, she knew there would always be that urge that was so typical of Slytherins.
Really, despite the surprisingly fast sprint she'd just made to arrive mere meters away from the fire, she wasn't courageous. It wasn't her job to be the hero. In fact, they were all children, really. None of them deserved to be tossed into this horrible mess. But alas, here they were, and Thora supposed she couldn't do anything else but help. Turning back towards the girl in flames, she forced herself to be brave. Just this once.
Forcing herself a couple steps closer to the fire, she squeezed her eyes closed before opening them once more, nearly blinded by the bright orange light. Drawing her wand from her boot in one smooth motion, Thora resolved to stand her ground, beads of sweat finally running down her face from the heat. Unlike those facing down and charging mosps, seemingly unafraid, she was scared to death, left fist clenched and green eyes huge. But escaping was no longer an option—and she wasn’t even the one in danger. She had to do this.
"Extinguo."
Action | Cast Extinguo to extinguish Anastasia
Outfit | Broom: Nimbus 1700
Keep your eyes on the stars and your feet on the ground [T. Roosevelt]
Encyclopedia » [x] | Dialogue » #005F1C
Encyclopedia » [x] | Dialogue » #005F1C