Secret Blossom Ball Event Finished

Mentioning- @Marion Davenport @Victor Moore @Jack Burnett

Interacting with- @Victor Moore

Amara had been dancing, enjoying the chaos, finding it amusing; but then lives are on the line. @Victor Moore, one of the burn victims had stopped moving, he was still and if you looked hard enough, you could see his soul exiting is body. Amara gasped and ran over to him. She shoved @Marion Davenport out of the way but waited until @Jack Burnett was done dumping water on the third year to climb on top of Victor. Amara knew she looked odd as she straddled him and attempted CPR.

Amara gently opens Victor's mouth and breaths into it. She pushes magic, pain, fear, life and being into him as tears silently fall down her cheek. She has yet to meet this boy, but seeing someone's life be stripped away from them is something no child should have to watch.

If CPR Works-

Amara feels the unconscious boy's heartbeat come back up to a normal pace. When he starts to take a few breaths by himself she rolls off of him and the waterworks begin. Observing near-death is heartwrenching and the fact that Amara was finding amousment in all of this earlier is disgusting, what was she thinking? Amara takes a sharp breath and pinches her arm in an attempt to ignore the internal bullets being shot at her. She looks over at Victor and squeezes his hand hoping that it can say everything she does not know how to say.

If The CPR Fails-

Amara feels it under her, the slow, abnormal heartbeats just stop. He is gone. A boy she does not even know the name of, a boy she let die is gone. Another name to add to the list of those who died because of her mistakes, her idiotic, narcissistic tendencies. She climbs off of the lifeless body. No more words, no more thoughts necessary, all she feels is hatred, loathing and pain. What better way to deal with these primal emotions than a primal scream. Amara screams, groans, moans- whatever you want to call it at the top of her lungs. She screams for what could be seconds or hours or years, but nothing erasses the emotion. Finally, someone wraps there arms around Amara and pulls her away.

I am open if CPR fails, preferably for a professor
Action- attempting CPR on Victor

Vincent heard Wyatt swear as he too grabbed a table leg which he could use as a club, followed by an obvious question:

“So the plan is to get out?”

Vincent wanted to answer him that it would be either that or trying to save as many fellow students as they could as he watched the girl’s cast Flipendo hit the purple creature hoping it would wreak enough havoc to preferably kill, but at least disable the insect. It didn’t an Vincent didn’t answer at all. Yet. The creature was obviously hurt by the spell, causing it to forcibly retreat higher up into the sky, the involuntarily evasive move allowing a few other students to escape. Vincent and Wyatt had the chance to escape as well, but Vincent had already decided he wasn’t taking that opportunity. He wasn’t going to let the girl stick around here alone fighting those nasty bugs, even though she didn’t seem too fond of his company. He wanted to address Wyatt to make his way to safety if he wanted and get help if he did while he would try to help as much as he could, but before he could, the girl spoke up.

“Maybe you guys can help put the fires out or help others escape?"

While she uttered these words, Vincent looked up and saw the purple bug line up for an attack. This obviously wasn’t the end of it, on the contrary. Though it had obviously taken a hit from the spell, the creature didn’t seem disabled in any way. In fact, it was even more agitated now and clearly out for revenge on the girl who had hurt it. Vincent wanted to yell a warning, he wanted to push her aside, he wanted to smash the bug mid-flight before it could do any damage, but he simply was too late. Before he could react, the bug had targeted the girl and swooped down from the sky, it’s horrible tentacle outstretched, aimed straight at the girl’s chest. As the stinger hit the girl smack in the middle of her chest, Vincent felt her body hit his briefly, but with considerable force, before she was being jerked away in the same second. There was no doubt in Vincent’s mind about what had just happened. She was hit!

Vincent reached out to grab her as she stumbled forward, kneeling down on one knee, her left hand held to her chest, her right tightly clutching her wand, while he kept one eye at the girl’s winged attacker. It flew up in the sky straight as it kept eyeballing the girl as if it wanted to gloat over its horrible deed. As it did, it didn’t pay enough attention to it surroundings, making it and up straight into the path of a girl on a broom that hit it in its ugly head with a well-aimed kick, causing it to spiral back down towards the girl, Wyatt and Vincent. “Please Wyatt, watch my back as I’ll try to help her. She’s been hit by it!” Vincent yelled as he watched the creature come crashing down. It seemed to be either dead or unconscious as it didn’t try to soften the inevitable landing at all. With a thud it landed close to them and Vincent sighed in relief as he noticed it was no longer alive. At least that was one less problem to worry about.

Vincent then quickly looked back at the creature he had distracted with his boutonniere earlier and saw it had lost interest in the small flowery piece before attending to the girl. He saw it get up into the air flying to something else that had attracted its attention, but decided to leave it be for now, hoping Wyatt would protect him from it if it decided to attack while he was trying to help the girl. He took a step forward, dropped his makeshift club at grabbing distance, softly touched her shoulder and kneeled next to her to examine her injury. He noticed some blood trickling between the fingers of the hand she held to her chest. “Shit.” Vincent thought. “That seems bad, she’s bleeding.” He glanced at her now twisted face, the expression giving him a clear impression of the pain she was in. She was biting her lip and tears ran down her cheeks. She was obviously in a great deal of pain. “Hey.” Vincent whispered, trying frantically to recall all he had learned in the few classes of first aid his mother had sent him to. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of here, Wyatt and I. You’re going to be alright, we’re not going to leave you here.”

Vincent racked his brain. If only he had paid more attention, he wouldn’t have to think so hard about what to do when stung by an insect. Despite the seriousness of the situation he couldn’t help but wonder if the proposed treatment would have taken insects the size of a giant into account, a giant like this one. And then, suddenly, he remembered. Ideally the venom that had been deposited would have to be sucked out, either with the use of a vacuum pump or by sucking. If that for some reason wasn’t possible it was best to let it bleed profusely, within reasonable borders of course, in order to flush out the venom for as much as possible. Knowing suction wasn’t an option he chose the next best thing. “Listen, this may sound strange, but try not too hard to stop the bleeding. The blood will flush out some of the venom which will hopefully soften its effect.” Vincent said softly to her. Her only reply was a hiss and as she closed her eyes Vincent felt her body tighten completely. She wasn’t going anywhere on her own. Not sure if she heard him, Vincent started to talk to hear again. “Don’t worry.” He repeated. “Either we get you out of here or I will stay here until help arrives. Please talk to me, it will distract you from the pain.”

Action: Trying to help @Santario Martin together with @Wyatt Starkey

“Please Wyatt, watch my back as I’ll try to help her. She’s been hit by it!”

Wyatt nodded and fell back to take watch and stand guard, which was odd since Wyatt was likely the least qualified person to fend off a mosp, but he found himself trusting Vincent. He held the table leg like a baseball bat, ready to fend off any one of those nasty creatures that dared to come near. Hearing a thud, he looked over to see a mosp fall to the ground, seemingly (hopefully) dead.

He heard Vincent curse, which was something he subconsciously assumed would never happen based on the boy’s general presence, so he knew to turn back to see what was happening.

“That seems bad, she’s bleeding.”
“Oh, good,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

Looking down at the girl, she seemed to be in a lot of pain. He didn’t dare put an expression on his face, fearing it would be the wrong one, and simply looked back to Vincent, who was whispering to the her. He couldn’t hear what he was saying but assumed it was something comforting. Wyatt could use some comforting right now too, how were they supposed to get out of here?

He turned back to survey the area. Many people were getting hurt, but he tried to turn his attention to the mosps, and make sure none of them would come for him, the girl, or Vincent.

Wyatt was getting anxious standing under a swarm of mosps, and decided to say something.

“Vincent, do you think you could lift her? The longer we stay here the longer we’re all in danger, especially her.” He gestured to the bleeding girl. “Though I’m sure the professors have heard of this by now, I have no idea how long it will take for them to get here.”

_{@Vincent d'Arque @Santario Martin}

Interacting| @Vincent d'Arque
Mentioning| @Wyatt Starkey

A soft touch on her shoulder and the voice of the boy who she had knocked into. She wasn’t really uninterested in him or his date; she never thought she’d be one of the people giving others orders. She always pictured herself as a background person, and idea person, and the person that cleaned up after the fact. Not that she could really heal anyone right now, she just didn’t possess the access to the magic. She had practiced muggle first-aid over the years with her mother, who, although had worked at St. Mungo’s, felt knowing as much as you could was for the best.

Yet, when your brain is foggy from the venom furiously coursing through your veins, you tended to forget essential things. The first instinct was to keep the blood in. Tears still fell from her closed eyes streaming down her cheeks as she did her best to keep her breathing under control. It was then that she learned a name, Wyatt, the boy that seemed not pleased at all by being dragged into her vicinity. Maybe she had somehow interrupted a date? Not that she would consider them coming to her as her interrupting, but some people were petty that way. Words were whispered to her that she was going to be okay and that she wouldn’t be left alone.

When he suggested she not stop the blood flow too much, he might be able to notice that she relaxed her hand just slightly over the wound. Not enough to allow it to flow freely but enough to allow it to flow some. She was listening even if she just looked light a tightened coil of pain. When the Wyatt boy suggested carrying her, she remembered her camera bag. Which was resting on the ground next to her the strap sitting in the crook in the elbow of the arm over her chest. “I-“ She bit her lip and swallowed hard before opening her eyes and looking at the boy next to her. It was as if her sapphire eyes were lit with bluebell flames. Although a look probably reserved for intense anger could easily be attributed to the amount of pain she was in. “I won’t resist your help. C-cannot leave bag.” She managed to tell him through gritted teeth her eyes closing again, followed by another hiss of pain.

Action| Not resisting if they try to carry her out

Everything was happening in pieces. The screams, the blinding pain, the shouts of her friends. Ana could feel herself barely clinging to consciousness. She wanted to vomit and scream and cry and punch someone all at once. It was terrifying and overwhelming. Someone extinguished the flowers and shortly after, her own flames were put out. She couldn't tell if it was her spell or not, but she was no longer flaming. Between the adrenaline and what she assumed to be nerve damage, she was feeling surprisingly alright other than the fact she was on the verge of passing out. She wasn't on fire, and for the moment, wasn't in too much pain. She felt somewhat proud when she glanced at the other burn victim(Victor).

Ivy had evidently thrown water on him, but there was something wrong. The boy lay motionless. Ana couldn't tell if he was breathing. Based on the screams from the older blonde girl(Marion), there was a serious problem. A coldness spread through Ana's body. Had she done this? He had been on fire because of her, and even though he was extinguished now, he was laying there not moving. Ana's breathing began to speed up. Was this her fault? Sure, Rafa had been the one to bring the flowers, but she was the one who had set them on fire. All of her previous violence had seemed fun and daring. Even when she was on fire, it had been terrifying but she hadn't thought anyone was in much true danger until the end. This was different. She had seriously hurt someone physically. She was sure she had caused loads of emotional damage to countless people, but this wasn't like that. Had she killed someone?

Her stomach was doing cartwheels as she continued to hyperventilate. She had done this. She would have never believed that she was capable of something like this. "Ohmygodohmygod," she murmured, the panic spreading. He couldn't be dead! He just couldn't. Ana was violent and somewhat rash to be sure, but she wasn't a killer. She felt sick. How had this all gone so wrong? Moments ago, she had been sitting with her friends and stuffing cupcakes into her face. Now she was barely conscious, had possibly killed someone, and covered in burns.

If that wasn't enough, she noticed Rafa screaming at a mosp overhead and subsequently flinging things into the flames around her. Still, that was something that was unrelated to her potentially having killed another person, so she latched onto that. "Rafael, what the fuck are you doing?" she demanded, her voice raw and broken from the screaming and smoke. He was going to get someone killed! Wait, no, she had already done that. Still, despite her anger and fear, she trusted Rafa and she wasn't going to try to stop him just yet. She hoped that choice wouldn't hurt her.

She also noticed a girl(Katrina) running off with the flowers. "No, you stupid bitch, bring those back!"OOC: SORRY KATRINA!!!!! Ana screamed. She was well aware she sounded like shit, but this girl messing with the flowers was stupider than Ana's messing with them. Ana hadn't known what could happen, but this girl had seen the fallout of toying with these forces.

A girl (May) began to try to tend to her burns, but Ana barely noticed it since she saw that weird blonde chick (Marion) lifting her wand in Rafa's direction. Without even processing the pain or what was happening, she pushed herself off the ground and launched herself at Marion. Sure, Ana was angry at Rafa, but she was the only one who was allowed to attack him right now! As the Gryffindor flew through the air, she felt her skirt, damaged from the tears, tripping, and flames, tear nearly completely off, leaving her with perfect access to her knife. She sincerely hoped that wasn't something she was going to need to use, but at this point in the night, anything was possible. As the cool air met her legs, everything exploded into pain again. Just perfect...

Character Statistics: Stamina 5| Evasion 9| Strength 5| Wisdom 9| ArcPower 7| Accuracy 5|
Abilities: Lovely Creature, Fearless

Actions:
Passive Action: Shout at Rafa, scream at Katrina, accept May's help
Active Action: Tackle Marion

TLDR: Ana freaks about possibly killing Victor, shouts at Rafa for being stupid, tackles Marion.

Percival ran steadily towards mosp six which was buzzing around angrily around the entrance. However, the plan he orginally thought of was soon to be tipped upside down. When he was about to shout over to the other bloated fly, a spell zoomed over his head and hit the mosp "Bugger!" he shouted before taking a sharp left to avoid the mosp following him like a bull in a china shop. It was now or never, he had to think of another way to get this mosp of his tail. Percy looked to his left and looked over to the girl who shot the spell, but was met with an image of horror.

The mosp that was struck by her had managed to fly back over and impale the girl with its sharp stinger. When he looked into her face it was filled with shock, nothing could prepare anyone for such pain, not even himself. Percy had to force his eyes away and shake the image that was planted in his mind, there was no time for pity... not until this was all over.

He quickly looked behind him with watery eyes as he continued to draw the other mosp away from the entrance, making himself bait for anyone who decided to take care of the mosp. Although, something gruesome was starting to slow him down. When he went to grab the flowers the mosp had swiftly stabbed downwards, sending it deep into his arm. It didn't hurt as much when it first happened, but now the after effects of the poison was starting to kick in. He could feel his entire limb starting to go numb, as well as the sticky red blood mark was forming on his dark black suit. Pain like this was something he wasn't used too, and was sure enough to get the better of him soon.

Percy kept running until he was next to one of the food stands, out of breath and wincing from the pain coming from his arm. The boy started to slow down but suddenly turned to throw the vase of flowers with his weaker left arm, hoping to somewhat delay it until someone helped him... if their was anyone by that fact. He was sure the power behind his throw wasn't going to do much damage, and the mosp would surely find its target if all else failed. Percy slowly leaned up against the table and put a hand on his blood soaked arm, unable to find the energy to find cover from the mosp "Come on... come on..." he muttered tiredly under his breath. All that mattered was that he led the mosp away from the entrance, all that was left was a miracle as the mosp was starting to draw in for another strike.

Action: Throws vase at mosp #21 by the food stand, before leaning up against a table and hoping someone will save him

May looked as her patient runned away from her hands, and directly May knew that she was about to tackle someone.
"Wha-" May runned after the girl, and picked up her wand. She looked at @Rafael D'Spacito and pointed it at him. " Tarantallegra!" she yelled, and the Gryffindor began dancing. But May hadn't seen the Mosp, in front of him until now.
But if the spell didn't succeed, then May picked up the jar of flowers and threw it at his head. May didn't know what she was doing, but she didn't want her lady/ patient to be in distress. She was burned ! What could May do about it?!

"You stop there little piece of shit!" she yelled at the Gryffindor. What was she doing? Then, she looked at @Victor Moore, equally burned. Or maybe...at the point of death. Feeling dizzy, she dropped her wand. But she wouldn't just stop there. She picked it up again.

"If nobody's going to help..." she began saying. No- too much blood. Again, panick spread over her. That was even more dangerous than the common room fire.

"Who knows a little healing..." she looked at @Santario Martin a hurt student. She was probably taking fotos when everything was ok.

She also looked at her own hand. Her own handiwork. She had punched someone in the face. And cures him.

May was begginging to feel pure shit inside her. She wasn't evil. She was more than that.

"You think I don't know Spanish words?!" May said to D'spacito, unaware that she was blushing. "Well, you know, I know other things than...that! There you go! And I suppose that makes pure sense!" What was she saying? May was feeling putrid and shame inside. But she wouldn't say anything else. Probably for a long time. Or not-

IF THE SPELL WORKS
Rafael D'spacito's legs turn into jelly, and he begins to dance, like he is supposed to do at this moment with his date.

IF THE SPELL DOSEN't WORK

May throws D'spacito a jar of flowers directly to his head.

TLDR: May sees her damisselle in distress and goes to see what's happening. After that, she curses Rafael D'spacito.

He heard Marion's desperate screams. The dance had turned into a mad house. Several students thought that they could contend with him. They could not, Vladimir was simply on another level. Someone tried to throw (holy) water on him. He had no idea why, little did he realize someone had grossly misunderstood his or his peer's interest in blood. Did he look like a sickly dhampir? Why in the world would he think that holy water would have worked against him even if he was a dhampir? God has nothing to do with this,

Victor was on the ground, the students were selfishly helping themselves to their bags. Everything was turning out as he had hoped. Well, perhaps not exactly, there was no way for him to divine such details. But they fed into his plan, in fact they still were. So self-absorbed, they let Victor burn. They wanted whatever treasures were in their bags. Victor for all his skill never bothered to finish any of his opponents off, what good were they on the ground? No, antagonize them into act. Make them uncomfortable. Let them know that they were not the most clever. After all, it was quite coincidental that he would ask one of the girls interested in his 'alternative activities' to the ball. That he would ask her before the news was even public, letting her suspicions bubble.

But why? Why summon the ire of his peers? Risk the safety, even the lives of his 'friends.' The answer was simple... his friends wanted to leave, they were detaching themselves from him. Running away.It was something Vladimir was unwilling to accept, they belonged to him. They were his to toy with and his to break. And now that they had seen the cruelty and indifference of their peers. They would never leave him again.

They would trust him at his very word. Dear students of Hogwarts, you have given me an incredible gift.

Who did Marion call out to when she was desperate? Not the Quidditch Team Captain who Vladimir 'failed' to finish off. Not the 'mean girls' that tried to snatch Victor's bag. No... no, she called out for him. The one person that she could depend on. The one person that would not hurt her. At least that was what she was going to believe forever. Even with Rafael attempting still to sadistically end the duo and Marion's desperate bid for self-defense, a girl still came at her. Vladimir would not intervene. 'Too far' probably. 'Taken by surprise' perhaps. 'Overwhelmed with adversaries of his own,' that he made no effort to mitigate the threat of.

Still, he had no interest in letting Victor die, he had greater value alive than dead and he would die before he betrayed Vladimir to any of them. That was the sort of tool one holds onto, perhaps even invests in. "Marion,watch out!" he would shout. Selim went on about his 'mission' to which Vladimir paid little heed beyond a single statement. "Picked the wrong side." Vladimir would dash away from Selim. If the first year takes chase, he wold forego a 'golden' opportunity to blindly follow orders and adhere to someone's expectations.

He would draw his wand and cast a spell he knew well enough. "Flipendo!" Aimed at Ana. he would try to stand between Marion and Ana but it was unlikely that he would make it, not that it mattered greatly. The point was to be seen. To be noticed. To depend on their reckless, heartless and thoughtless behavior. Both a certainty and an wildcard.

Action: Vladimir casts Flipendo at Ana, if he is able to aim his attack, he aims her to be shot at Selim.

Stats:
Human 50 total stat points
STA 10 • EVA 10 • STR 10 • WIS 5 • ARC 5 • ACC 10
Abilities: Not telling yet.

Interacting with @Victor Moore @Thomas Lestrange @Rafael D'Spacito
Mentioning @Jack Burnett @Marion Davenport

With a bounce in his step due to the euphoria of having successfully freed his new partner from the Dancing Curse he had been under, Ruka followed Lestrange towards the group consisting largely of people Ruka at least vaguely knew targeting Vladimir all at once. He still wasn't sure what exactly was going on there, who was trying to accomplish what, but maybe the best way to find out was to throw himself right in the middle of it.

He hacked out a cough as thick smoke seemed to fill the air around them, burning his eyes worse than the fire burned his skin most of the time. It clouded his vision enough that he needed to stop in his tracks for a second to check exactly where he was going before he could continue.

Except, just in that moment he heard his name called out by a voice he knew like the back of his hand. "JACK?" he called back, eyes frantically looking for the source of the shouts. The Slytherin sounded desperate, on the verge of crying even, and there was no way Ruka would have ever ignored that for the sake of a half drunk kid he had only just met Sorry Tommy, don't feed me to the hags please.

Once his eyes had found Jack, he could feel himself calming down a little bit. He didn't seem to be in any immediate danger, so the cries for help were seemingly not for himself. Instead there was another name he didn't know thrown his way, but at least this time Ruka was able to let his gaze follow Jack's gestures towards the body slumped on the ground not too far from him. One of the kids that had been on fire up until moments ago, clearly. "Shit," he rasped out as he looked at the torch in his hand for a second. There was no use for it if he was supposed to be treating someone's burn wounds; If anything he would just risk setting the boy on fire again, and that was quite clearly the last thing he needed.

Reaching out reflexively, Ruka grabbed onto Lestrange's wrist before pressing the torch into the boy's free hand. "I'll be back," he said quickly. There was no time to explain, not if he wanted to get to the real fireboy of the night before the pain of severe burns could take him away. "Probably," he added, not wanting to make any promises he couldn't keep.

With a firm nod as if to convince himself that he was doing the right thing, Ruka took a step backwards and in the direction of his new target. "Don't-" he started before thinking better of it. Don't get killed, was what he had wanted to say but it didn't seem fitting in the slightest. "Don't kill anybody," was what he ended up saying instead. "Please." With a deep breath, Ruka turned around and sprinted towards the lifeless body, but not without casting one more glance at what Jack was doing.

Catching sight of the Slytherin's torch, as well as spreading fire around the pitch, there was one more thing that caught his eye; Rafa, looking to be in utter disarray and almost scarily focused on the bag Jack seemed to want to free from the flames. Ruka hadn't seen Rafa and Jack together very often, but each of those encounters had somehow ended in a violent attack on Jack, and this was not the time for that.

Frantically looking around the pitch, Ruka looked for anything that could possibly distract Rafa from Jack and whatever his mission seemed to be, and he shook his head at himself when he found something that could have possibly worked if Rafa was only half as intent on impressing the girls of his heart as Ruka thought he might be.

"RAFA!" he called in a tone that suggested extreme urgency, and he gesticulated wildly in the direction of the blue haired girl, the one he had seen with Rafa before all this mayhem had started. "Not gonna help out your girlfriend over there? Leaving her to tackle two overgrown wasps by herself?" He pulled a face of vague disappointment, as if he had expected better of Rafa, just as he heard a spell being called out from close by.

Turning his head back in the direction of the boy who was apparently called Victor according to Jack, Ruka could see the girl who had spilled her drink at Lestrange earlier in the night with her wand out and aimed at Rafa. That was a way to get him out of the picture as well, Ruka figured as he sprinted the last few steps to the crumpled body on the ground, immediately falling to his knees to quickly fumble for his trusty jar of Burn Healing Paste (Made by Elliot Price and given to by Alan Vanes in This Thread) in his bag, pulling it out with shaky hands.

"Alright there, mate?" he asked the lifeless body uselessly without much consideration for anything else going on around them. It wasn't important, not with the state this boy was in; If he was still alive then it was only barely, and that required someone's complete attention. Admittedly, it required the attention of a professional health carer, but for now Ruka was probably the next closest thing, so it would have to do.

Opening the jar of orange paste, Ruka took a deep breath as he let his eyes scan the limp body. Even having grown up being bitten and gnawed on by the flames every single day, he had never suffered burns quite this severe, but he'd been taught how to treat them, just in case. The Muggle Way, however, and Ruka felt a wave of panic rushing through him as he realised that he had no cool water at his disposal, nothing to cut away burnt clothes from the boy's skin, no clean linen to wrap up the affected areas.

He took a second to steady himself; Panic wasn't going to be any use to either of them. Maybe he didn't have any Muggle Utensils at hand, but what he did have was a magical Burn Healing salve, that would have to do, right?

With new found determination, Ruka scooped out a dollop of orange goo and started to gently dab it across the boy's burnt face and neck before moving on to his hands and arms. He was careful not to rub at any blistered, loose skin lest it came off and left the boy even more raw than he already was, but that also meant that there were thick orange spots all over his skin; Ruka figured he wouldn't mind if it could potentially save his life. "This should help with the pain," he explained soothingly, just on the off-chance the boy was able to hear him. That was what you were supposed to do with people who were close to dying, wasn't it? Try to keep them engaged in conversation somehow.

Ruka was no stranger to death, had seen a boy much younger than Victor die in agonising pain, had buried his own dad with his bare hands, but he had never actually needed to interact with someone close to death before. The feeling was sickening.

"It's just a scratch," he said in a joking tone, as if some humour would help lighten the situation somehow. "Gonna be over in no time." He carefully peeled away any burnt part of Victor's not-so-white-anymore suit to be able to reach any part of even halfway exposed skin with the orange paste. "You still with us, buddy?" Ruka questioned hopefully, leaning back a little to see if there was any effect applying the paste may have had. It should have relieved him of the pain almost instantly, should help with the state of his burns as it usually did when Ruka applied it to himself, but he had no idea if it worked just as well on burns this severe. "Gotta get you out of here," he pointed out, still just voicing his thoughts out loud in case Victor was even just vaguely conscious. "Don't suppose you can stand up, can you?" From the sights of it, Victor was much taller than Ruka himself so he doubted he'd be able to carry the boy but he wasn't above trying should he not get any kind of answer to his question. "I'll get you to the Hospital Wing, but I'll need your help. Just gotta lean on me or something."

Putting a shaky hand into his now half empty jar, Ruka proceeded to smear some more paste on Victor's skin, just to make sure he was doing everything he possibly could, as he waited for a few seconds to see if he would get any reaction to his words at all. Should his words all be met with silence, Ruka would attempt to loop his arms under the boy's knees and behind his neck to get ready to attempt lifting him up, no matter how straining it may be to carry the weight of a boy much taller than himself.

|Action|
Free Action
Passing lit torch to Thomas
Action
Applying Burn Healing Paste to Victor's skin

Reducio

Stats
Stamina: 7 ~ Evasion: 8 ~ Strength: 4 ~ Wisdom: 8 ~ Arcane Power: 6 ~ Accuracy: 7

Abilities
The Muggle Condition
Advanced Casting

Outfit Reference
Top

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Jeans

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Shoes

Reducio

As Vincent kept his eyes on the girl, he heard Wyatt mutter something under his breath. Although he couldn't make out what he had said exactly, he felt a surge of relieve through his mind. "Good." he thought. "He did stick around." He looked over his shoulder and saw Wyatt standing at guard, table leg ready to strike at anything that dared to get close. Feeling more comfortable knowing his newly made friend kept watch, Vincent made a mental note to thank him as soon as this was over.

He then swiftly turned his attention back to the girl and started talking softly to her once more. "I'm not sure how or by whom, but the creature that attacked you is dead." As he spoke he thought he noticed the tension in the girl subside ever so slightly, releasing some of the pressure her hand applied to the wound. The trickle of blood he had seen earlier turned into a slow, but steady flow, allowing more venom to be flushed out. He hoped it was a deliberate action and not a sign of the girl losing consciousness.

The issue was solved right away with the girl moving and trying to speak. She opened her eyes and gave Vincent an intense, fierce look with her strikingly blue eyes. At least she had a lot of spunk left, judging by the fire in her eyes. Vincent considered this a positive sign. He heard her accept his - their - offer to help her, with the added request to bring her camera bag along were they to try and get her out of here. Even this relatively effortless reaction was an act she apparently immediately had to pay the price for, as Vincent saw her grit her teeth and heard her hiss in pain. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Despite that, Vincent couldn't help smiling softly at her request. Being an amateur photographer himself he could all too well understand.

He located the bag at her side, the shoulder strap around the arm she held to her chest. Not willing to completely loosen the pressure on the wound, Vincent checked the strap's attachment to the bag. Fortunately it was secured with a buckle, so it could easily be undone without damaging anything. "I hear you." Vincent smiled, all the while carefully detaching the strap from the camera bag and pulling it free from under her arm. He reattached the strap to the bag and pulled it towards him. "I'll do everything I can to get you and you gear to safety."

At that moment Vincent heard Wyatt ask him if he would be able to carry her out of here. He looked at the girl. She didn't look particularly heavy, not at all even, so he thought he could. They didn't have much of a choice anyway, staying would probably lead to more injuries to all three of them, so that wasn't an option. Carrying her out between the two of them wasn't either, as that would leave them exposed without guard. He turned to the boy and nodded. "I think so, but I won't win any speed records, so I need you to protect us from those faul creatures." He grabbed the camera bag and carefully pushed it across the floor towards Wyatt. "Could you carry this as well please, I wouldn't want her to have to part with her gear."

While awaiting Wyatt's answer he turned back to the girl. "I'm going to try to lift you and carry you out if here. I'm afraid that might hurt, but we don't have a choice. I apologize in advance. Wyatt here," he gestured towards his new friend, "will hopefully guard us. I am Vincent, by the way." He conjured a small smile. "I'm not going to count, I'll just pick you up. Ready?" Without further explanation Vincent positioned himself at her side, slid one arm under her legs and wrapped the other around her back. He lifted her off the floor a few inches to test if he could handle the weight and he was surprised how little she weighed. He took a deep breath and got up, carrying the girl in his arms. Though he definitely noticed the extra weight, he was surprised at the relative ease he carried her with. Apparently the seriousness of the situation gave him a little extra strength. He looked at Wyatt. "I have this, she's not heavy at all. Let's go." With that said he slowly and carefully set foot towards the exit, trying to avoid any sudden moves that might aggravate the girl's pain. He looked her in the eyes. "Can you handle it?"

Action: Carrying @Santario Martin to safety while being protected by @Wyatt Starkey