What is the First Rule... Slytherin Event

When Cassie stood in line, they heard someone said something in spanish. It is not an everyday thing students in Hogwarts spoke that particular language or being Latinx descendant like themselves. So far the only Latinx people they know is Rafael D'Spacito and Wren Caster which both of them in Gryffindor.

Cassie spotted the boy that previously stood just not far from them in line. "Mi nombre es Cassandra pero puedes llamarme Cash (my name is Cassandra but you can call me Cash), you are?"The green eyes girl exclaimed to the boy, introducing their name. Shielding their eyess from the harsh bright light of the sun with their hand, the look at the navy blue tent. People come and goes from there.

Cassie saw the girl that Ileen usually with. They know the girl is not Slytherin and Maria Dee. What is going on? Cassie ponders. They thought this event just exclusively for Slytherin but with the other two girls that represent Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, they not sure anymore. Cassie then look at the boy. "Do not you think it is odd that they branding us? Do not you find it strange?"Cassie questions the boy.

"Which number they gave it to you?"Enquire the green eyes girl to their conversation partner.

Interact with : @Emmanuel Min Requiza | Mentioning : Rafael D'Spacito, Wren Caster, Ileen Knight, Dealla Prince and Maria Dee

Ability : Parselmouth
Stats - Stamina : 6 Evasion : 4 Strength : 6
Wisdom : 4 Arcane Power : 4 Accuracy : 6

Opeila knew that she should know better by now. That it was actually a miracle that she didn't get expelled yet. She had caused enough trouble to get expelled multiple times... Still there she was, following a mysterious invitation like half of her house did. How very dumb of them, wasn't it?

Flash repeated what the strange looking guy had said about the ring. "But I haven't seen teachers anywhere... and honestly, I don't want to be shallow, but he doesn't look like someone trustworthy.", she said, nodding in the stranger's direction. Or... maybe not stranger? He looked familiar somehow...

Jack commented on her question about the assigned seats, causing Opeila to roll her eyes and sigh. Not annoyed, it was more... a move of nervosity. "It's called optimism, Burnett... I'm trying not to expect the worst." She didn't exactly succeed. Opeila felt herself tense more the longer she looked at the queue, almost everone reacting similar.

Another boy joined them, Opeila recognized him as Percival Gray, another Dorm Battle participant. He compared them with branded cattle. "Well that goes a bit far, don't you think?" ... She didn't think it did. But she would not be the one to get those little flames of fear to burn higher.

Suddenly Opeila found herself surrounded by... possibly all of the Severus Snape Dorm? At least the majority of it. Four more familiar faces. Selim, who murmured something she couldn't understand to Burnett, Adonis, the guy who had crashed into the stands, Hanako, the flowercrown boy and her favourite Percival.

Adonis said that he didn't feel good about the situation as well. Opeila nodded. "Me neither... To be honest, I think no one here feels good about it really. Is it weird that one of my worst concerns is that someone might lose it and start to set everything on fire? That somehow seems to be the reaction everytime something goes wrong."
She nodded at Jack's response to Adonis. Opeila had not thought as far as Jack but it made sense to her.

Dan joined them as well, asking the same questions as Adonis. Opeila shrugged, she had no idea. She would just stay with Flash, who would probably stay with Jack... who would probably stay with Selim. Seemed like a rather strong group, none of the three boys were stupid or impulsive.

When Jack looked at her and made a hint at the party possibly being the reason, Opeila looked at him with a mix of indignance and amusement. She was very aware that he was only teasing her, but still. It was a bit of a sensitive topic after she had let Vladimir into the common room in a moment of careless naivety. "Don't you dare, Burnett. You mean the party that you all attended on your own free will? Don't you even try to blame it on me, if that is what you are doing between the lines, that one is on everyone who attended." She shook her head, only the way her lips were pressed together showed that she actually had to stop herself from chuckling.

The thought that it could be for their housecup win made her frown. "Again, I haven't seen any teachers, have you? And why would they send us invitations? Is it a test maybe, if we are actually still naive enough to follow mysterious invitations? But honestly... I would be highly surprised if the professors would burn numbers into our arms. I think this has nothing to do with them to be honest...", she said.

Jack had also noticed something about the man. He does look familiar. No, I wouldn't talk to him. If this has nothing to do with the professors we have just been successfully lured out of Hogwarts. That is probably not a good thing and I would not pull his attention to you specifically if I were you. He makes me feel weird." Again she looked over to the young man.

"Can we just... all stay together as long as possible in case something happens?", she asked, trying not to let the others hear her increasing nervosity too much. Yes, they were just lured out of Hogwarts. And if they were on their own, they at least had to stick together, right?

Interacting with @Jack Burnett @Selim Faust @Flash Holmwood @Adonis Thorn @Hanako Tone @Percival Rainwood @Percival Gray @Dan Palmer

_{Open to interaction}

Wyatt was seriously beginning to question his being there. His fellow students were already beginning to funnel into groups, but he was just standing there. He surveyed the clusters of his peers, but eventually, he turned back to look at the boy at the front desk.

Was there something… familiar about him? No, there couldn’t be. Wyatt had known nothing of the wizarding world until a few months before he got his letter to Hogwarts, and when he got there, he didn’t leave the castle, not even for holidays. So how could he possibly know a boy so immersed in this world that he works for whoever was in charge of this whole thing?

Wyatt clutched his wand in his hoodie pocket. He wasn’t sure if it was because the boy made him feel uneasy, or because he felt he may have to use it soon. There was something off about that boy. It was easy to stare at him because he was almost a robot, and it seemed he wouldn’t know, feel, or care about Wyatt’s stares.

The most troubling or questionable bit, though, was the dirt, makeup, or bruise he had around his eye. How had he gotten it, and from who? Though it was just black, he hoped it was the color of one of the teams in the basement. He hoped the boy was just showing his support for a team downstairs. Another strange thing, why was there a quidditch game going on in the basement? If it was even possible, he tightened his grip on his wand. Wyatt couldn’t take his eyes off of the boy as he tried (and failed) to put a name to the face.

_{Stats: Stamina 4 | Evasion 5 | Strength 3 | Wisdom 6 | Arcane Power 7 | Accuracy 5
Abilities: Parselmouth}

Flash listened along as the Snape dorm started to assemble and discuss the events with Opeila. He still felt their posturing was mostly pointless, but perhaps it made them feel better to run through their options. Flash intended to simply investigate. He tended to have a sense for atmosphere in a room, though it was not particularly conscious on his part. He just didn’t feel a very threatening vibe from the environment. Just a gut feeling, perhaps.

He did let out a small chuckle when Opeila suggested that it might be a test of their inability to stay away from mysterious invitations. Truly, if the professors were to test such a thing, the students would fail every time. The stereotype of Slytherins would have you believe they would all be too cautious and calculating to fall for traps again and again, but the Slytherins Flash knew were all fixated on solving things. Puzzles, mysteries, problems… perhaps it was their youth that made them still act so invinsible despite their lives being threatened time and time again.

Opeila’s humor and optimism started to fade the longer she talked, until she seemed to betray fear in her voice.Reactively, Flash put a hand on her shoulder.

”It’s alright. There’s no reason we shouldn’t stick together. Well… unless we’re sorted into brackets and made to fight against each other.” Despite his words, Flash’s face held a sweet smile.

Of course, Flash was still of the mind that it was a tournament. Just another gut feeling.

"Shall we go and see the ring then?" Flash didn't see a reason to hesitate further.

Ability: Calming Presence
Stats: Sta: 7 ★ Eva: 5 ★ Str: 6 ★ Wis: 8 ★ AP: 3 ★ Acc: 6

Mentioning: Snape kids
Interacting with: @Opeila Seilun

It was a habit hard to break, replying in Spanish first that is. Not to mention he never met anyone of Spanish descent since joining Hogwarts, which honestly was part his fault since he was too busy trying to not drown in the mass of homework he hadn't yet grasp. Playing catch up was hard, Emmanuel still wondered why his Abuelo y Abuela (grandfather and grandmother) decided to bring the family back into the wizardly world. He was perfectly content running along the beach with no care in the world.

What brought this on? Probably the looks of some of the students when they didn't understand what he was saying, and those who seen his fist clenched steered away from him. Sighing to himself, he was about to find some secluded spot to cool off until he heard a soft voice speaking Spanish close by. Confused with furrowed eyebrows he followed the voice before settling on vibrant green eyes, if he didn't know better, he'd think they had devoured a whole everglade forest.

It took a few seconds for his mind to register they were talking to him, "Me llamo Emmanel, pero Min está bien.. Ah catorce,y tú?" He replied, subconsciously rubbing his right shoulder.

Ability | Seer

Sta: 3 | Eva: 10 | Str: 5 | Wis: 5 | Arc: 2 | Acc: 5

Interactions: @Cassandra Ironwoods

Percival frowned as he glanced towards Adonis. His arm still burnt slightly, and he wondered why the number had to be seared into his skin.

The boy glanced towards Adonis as the other made the suggestion to go over to the others.

Percival watched the other turn and walk off right away.

"Well it seems like we don't have much choice." he mumbled to Hanako.

He sighed before he followed after Adonis towards the others.

The boy was right it would probably be best to hang around familiar faces.

Percival looked towards Jack as he spoke to Selim. The other seemed to be asking if Selim was ok.

His eyes lit up when he saw Opeila though, the two had been going out for about a month at this point. The boy was a little surprised that she was here as well. From the looks of it, many familiar faces were about.

"Hey Pei." he said with a grin.

"You got an invitation too?" he asked moving away from Hanako's side to greet her. It worried him a little that she was

The boy listened to everyone discuss their worries about this entire thing. In all honesty, the numbers were the weirdest part.

"I really hope these aren't permanent." he muttered to the group absentmindedly rubbing his shoulder.

For once, Percival's nervousness shown through like a beacon. The boy moved back to stand by Hanako, finding some comfort next to his best friend.

Percival laughed at Jack's mention of Opeila's infamous party. The night, in all honesty, could be classified as a mess.

"Why is it every time you plan a party it goes haywire? he asked in a teasing manner.

Percival glanced towards Selim, the boy had not seen the other since the Blossom Ball.

"Hey Selim, still pickpocketing upperclassmen?" he asked in an attempt to ease the tension him and the other's were probably experiencing.

Stamina: 6 | Evasion: 5 | Strength: 7 | Wisdom: 4 | Arcane Power: 8 | Accuracy: 5

Ability: Foul play

Interacting with @Jack Burnett @Selim Faust @Adonis Thorn @Hanako Tone @Opeila Seilun
Mentioning: @Flash Holmwood @Percival Gray @Dan Palmer

The grass seemed greener and the softer parts of the grass delightfully more squishier. The sun shined brighter and the baby, blue sky was blemish free. Numerous bodies, mainly adorned in green, flew across the acres the land that were decorated with tents. Ages ranged from toddlers to adult, but one thing remained constant, the feeling of excitement and and jubilant energy that filled the air. The sound of it all was overwhelming and deafening, which is to be expected of an event of this size, but despite that Calvon didn't find himself bothered. This time, the introspective, thoughtful child was allowing his environment to overwhelm him with open arms. Why? Because he was at the most action-packed place in all of London.

He was at the London Quidditch Stadium.

Donned in a black tee and gray shorts, the 11 year old very quickly departed from his parents who, as former alumni of Hogwarts, recognized the importance of letting their child roam free. His parents had caught wind of the Quidditch tournament that was to take place and, knowing that their son was just a few months away from starting school, brought Calvon along to experience all of it in-person instead of through a radio. Being there in person made all the difference--and he wasn't even watching the match yet! The warm, summer sun caressed his being while the wind blew his jet-black hair behind him. The ground felt like rubber beneath his feet as he ran tirelessly across the land. Energy rushed through his entire being, and his body seemingly jittered out of his control.

I'm really here. I'm at London Quidditch Stadium!

The black haired youngster thought as his observant, emerald green eyes scanned the area. With a grin, stretched far across his face, Calvon continued to run like a mad man as far as he could until he eventually saw something that caught his eye. There was a line of kids about his age standing outside of a navy blue tent lined with silver fastenings. It stood at a height of two stories and while definitely abnormal in the standard sense, it was relatively tame in comparison to some of the other tents that towered over everyone. Although wizards young and old stood around, it definitely contained more kids his age than many of the other lines. With a raised eyebrow but still grinning, Calvon made his way into the line and swayed side to side with excitement.

Time would pass, but Calvon would eventually make his way to the front door. Slightly ajar, there seemed to be another child, a teenager by the looks of it, who seemed to dictate who could pass into the tent. The boy's cold, calculating green eyes stood in contrast to the bright, thoughtless emerald eyes that Calvon bore. But there was something strange and odd about the teen that Calvon couldn't quite put his finger on. And it wasn't the black scar that claimed a quarter of his face. The teen had an aura of knowledge and callousness that emitted a feeling of experience.

Just what exactly does someone have to go through to get like this?

The thought would sit in Calvon's head for a while before he finally heard the words of the teen for the umpteenth time. "Oops, my bad! I apologize, here's my invitation." Calvon would say as he quickly dipped into his pocket, grabbed his paper, and handed it to the teen. He would hold the invitation over the flame, and Calvon watched as the flames ate away at his invitation. Calvon's eyes would open slightly as the howls of the paper filled the air before all of a sudden pain would erupt under the skin of his right shoulder. "OW! What IS that?" Calvon would scream slightly as he swatted his shoulder before clenching it tightly. Through his shirt, he could feel his elevated skin and the fair-skinned boy would raise the arm of his shirt quickly to see exactly was going on.

Calvon's eyes would widen as he saw what was now on his shoulder. Etched and seared into his skin would be the number 30. But before he had time to analyze and ask questions, he was told to move along into the tent, and after being shocked like that, Calvon didn't need any convincing to follow directions.

Just what in the world is going on here...? Calvon would ask himself as the pain began to subside. Closing his eyes an taking deep breaths, Calvon would place his hand on his chest and attempt to calm himself down. Relax, Calvon. You can't figure anything out if you're panicking. Just observe, observe, and observe. And so the pensive child would escort himself to the outer fringes of the inside of the tent before scanning the room with his watchful eyes.

After some time, Calvon would see a group of children around his age all huddled together. They all seemed acquainted with each other and the thought of approaching the already "set" group lodged a golf ball in the boy’s throat. However, after taking some deep breaths, the boy would allow himself to think. Relax, Calvon...what’s the worst that could happen? They laugh at me? That’s not all that bad. Plus! I’d rather get laughed at and still be alive than to not talk to them and die...

And so through the power of sheer logic and rational alone, the boy would make his way to the group and introduce himself with a smile coupled with a small laugh,

"Hey, you guys. Sorry to interrupt; I’m Calvon. I kinda accidentally made my way in here, so I don’t really know what’s going on." He’d laugh again before he continued. "I got this weird brand, and you guys seem to be more familiar with this whole thing than I am. You mind explaining just what’s happening?"

The green-eyed boy would ask as he rubbed his black hair with a smile. Upon mentioning his brand, he would lift the right sleeve of his black tee and expose the number 30 that laid on his shoulder.

Despite the...decent show of confidence and initiative, on the inside, Calvon’s stomach sank, and the boy was sure that his beating heart could show through his chest and shirt. At this point, Calvon just wanted the day to be over. He wanted his parents.

Wisdom: 10 | Accuracy: 6 | Evasion: 5 | Stamina: 5 | Strength: 2 | Arcane: 2 |

Interacting with @Jack Burnett @Flash Holmwood @Selim Faust @Adonis Thorn @Opeila Seilun @Percival Gray @Hanako Tone @Percival Rainwood @Dan Palmer @Persephone Barret

Erik had smirked at Ileen as she berated her friend. As he had been walking over to her he had overheard her and couldn't help himself, but say something about it. Now, now, Leen! I think my ego wouldn't explode. It's big enough to take on more compliments. Ileen went on to explain how she had gotten here of all places. Yeah, same thing here. I just got here to see what was actually up. Better this than being stuck in a dusty, old castle all day, right?

The Ravenclaw girl shook Erik's hand as she introduced herself. Oh, you have now? Well, that's no wonder. There's a lot to tell about me after all. I'm sure it wasn't all good. I'll let you in on a little secret. The werewolf leant in towards Dee. I'm not all good., he whispered. When he looked at Dee he gave her a wink and a cheeky grin. You most certainly deserve them and I'm glad to hear that you are that honored. After all, it's not like you are graced every day with such esteemed company like myself.

Ileen went on to mock him. From anyone else he would've taken it is an insult, but he knew better than that from her. Exactly so. Some people deserve my good manners. I have yet to remember a single encounter where you deserved them. How about you? Erik had a playful smile on his face.

Suddenly they were approached by a fellow Slytherin. A boy he had never met nor interacted with. Yeah, that's right. Nice to meet you, Søren. He nodded at him. The Slytherin boy seemed to throw in a couple of suggestions of what might lay ahead of them. Erik laughed as Dee joked. Well, no worries. If we're being auctioned off I'm sure I could buy all four of us out of it. However, he looked at the boy, if it's going to be a fighting match we're going to be in for a treat. I love a good brawl myself.

Ileen, seemed to be worried. It even came in wafts of her persona. Erik could as much smell the fear on her as he could see it. She didn't have to even name it to be real. As she looked at Erik he gave her a calming glance. When he intently stared back at her he tried to tell her with his eyes to relax.

There were many other Slytherin students who had already entered the party. When her turn arrived, she handed the boy the paper she was instructed to bring to the event. Upon handing off the paper, she felt a burning sensation in her left shoulder as the paper burned itself to ash. Accustomed to pain at this point, she hardly flinched, but concern crossed her face. What did I get myself into now?

Walking away from the table, she took a moment to glance at her arm noting a number had been branded into the skin. Weaving through the crowds, she would look for any other student she knew well enough to feel comfortable around.

Abilities: Seer

Stamina	Evasion	Strength	Wisdom	Arcane Power	Accuracy
9	7	2	2	3	7

As with any professional sport, magical or muggle, the sheer scope of the spectacle far surpasses what your everyday thirteen-year-old boy was accustomed to seeing. As Thomas approached a various assortment of tents with his fellow snakes (and a couple Huffle stragglers) the medieval architecture of a grand stadium inspired awe, shaping a rare genuine smile. A new sense of motivation accompanied his aspirations to be a quality Quidditch player of the future. Unfortunately, the group took a sharp left turn away from the stadium to join a line leading into one of the tents.

As per usual, Thomas Lestrange kept to himself. Unsure of the general perception his peers formed after his decisions at the ball, or the horrifying image of him in his undies. So, despite the many familiar faces he would see, Thomas avoided eye contact with his peers. It was not an issue, as Thomas was no stranger to isolated silence. He made a conscious effort to do so, quietly waiting for his turn to enter the tent.

There was no prompt or directions on this day. Not a rare occurrence for the students at Hogwarts, like blind sheep they would take their turn receiving a certificate of slaughter. When Thomas’ turn arrived, he approached a hooded boy with a thin build, and not much taller than he. A shift of his frame allowed the hood to slide back, revealing a marred visage. His skin appeared slick, as if took a bath in baby oil. The most notable feature was the pair of eyes, Thomas would be remiss if this did not click—he has seen this boy before. The boy did not comment on the cumulative sense of familiarity, so neither did Thomas. After exchanging his invitation…where did I get this again… for a small piece of parchment, there was an instant reaction. The invitation ignited, and the parchment eerily responded to symbolize a connection between the two. Then came a sharp sting, the number thirty-two glimmered on his arm, the side opposite of symbol that came to define him: the trident.

When Thomas left the boy, his eyes initially found a red-head girl. The prefect he has only seen a few times in a group setting. When she was not hiding, she appeared socially distant. Perhaps she had her own demons, a prospect Thomas could relate with. This led to his approach in continued ignorance of those he was more acquainted with. When arriving, he did not stand across the prefect to initiate an awkward conversation, but instead to her side, his eyes intermittently flickering over to her. “You don’t know what’s going on either, do you?” Folding his arms between glances at the prefect(Nico), the fear surrounding the unknown began to fester within.

Interactions: @Nico Shymane