What is the First Rule... Slytherin Event

Adonis instantly felt more comfortable once his trio combined with the trio that made up Jack, Opeila, and Flash. There were also others who seemed to join in on the group as well and it made it all the better. One other fellow dorm-mate of his, Selim, and two others he had only seen around quite a few times had also walked up to make all of them one big group. The more the merrier. It was better this way with bigger numbers. They just had to take advantage of it and hopefully not die now if something like that was in store for them.

Adonis cocked his head back at Jack's first statement with furrowed brows. "I- it has nothing to do with me being pure-blood, I just have a sense of what seems off or not like any other perceptive person." Adonis then quickly nodded in agreement with Jack. "Exactly. It's the fact it seems as if we're not supposed to know that getting to me and I don't like it."

"I also have no idea who that person might be, so no I can't say they look familiar to me unfortunately." Adonis looked over his shoulder towards the young man who had taken their ticket, getting a good look of them before turning back towards the others. "We should stick together as a group, yes. As for it being a tournament? I'm not sure. There are a good amount of us here." He said while looking around once again at all of the others in line and those who had already been branded.

As he began to look around, his gaze eventually settled down on Opeila who had #2, Jack had #3, Flash had #4 and so on. Who had #1 then? As far as he could remember Opeila had been the first one in line when they all entered but yet she had got the number 2 branded on her arm and the numbers only went up from there. Everything about this had made him very suspicious and he couldn't help but look around. He noticed two other girls who didn't seem to be a part of their house but yet here they were. Although, neither of them had the number 1 either. His gaze began to slowly drift away from the group as he now began to look around for the person with the number 1 branded on their arm in hopes of finding whoever this person was.

Action: Looking for the person branded with the number 1

Stamina: 6 | Evasion: 3 | Strength: 2 | Wisdom: 9 | Arcane Power: 7 | Accuracy: 8
Ability: Prodigal DADA Learner

Interacting with @Jack Burnett, @Opeila Seilun, and @Flash Holmwood
Mentioning Snape Dorm + @Dan Palmer, @Dealla Prince, @Maria Dee

@Opeila Seilun, Vladimir's date to the secret Blossom Ball was the first to arrive. How fitting. She was a small girl, hardly in possession of the assets necessary to perform well in this scenario. But the point was not victory. However, like most Slytherins she would likely fail to realize the point until it was too late. There would be an exchange between the two of them, he boy tense and his motions almost mechanical less his eyes that seemed ablaze and the twitch of his left lip as it curled upward as the number 2 was seared into the girls arm. "Once everyone is processed, I will show you the way to the basement."

@Jack Burnett was the next to meander in. The scared boy was surprised to see him of all people here in a place like this. But yes, every last Slytherin got the same summons. Just not all of them would answer. There was a hesitation in his movements, the smirk a neutral expression as he wordlessly extended his hand. His hands appeared wrong. Not the sort of 'wrong' where the fingers were too long, there were too few or too many. His hands were raw and very dry.



Clean and well-groomed, they did not look like the hands of a young man. Much like his face, there appeared to be something very wrong. The boy would appear to notice this and his hands would retreat into his sleeves.

It was a foolish decision for Jack to come. "Turn around Jack," the young man with a blackened mark that marred a quarter of his face warned. His voice seemed feeble, as if he was on his death bed. From the look of his face, if it was not for his eyes that still possessed a fire in them, one would have thought him so. Jack would not turn back, rather he handed the boy the slip of paper. "Don't..." make me. He never got the whole phrase out,the paper already in the fire by his own hand. His eyes glanced at the door, it was too late for Jack now.

"It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance number three," a disembodied voice would whisper such sweet nothings into Jack's ear. None but Jack could hear. "I so enjoy playing this game," the voice continued. It sounded cold but had this eerie calm to it.

The sheen on the boy's face appeared distorted, a single streak starting from his eye and reaching his jaw lacked the sheen of the rest.

@Flash Holmwood was standing behind Jack, he had come in with Opeila but had been separated by the first year. Wordlessly the slip of paper, his invitation was taken from his hand and placed in the flame. A contract made, little did he know, by coming here the only way out was to fight. Of course, there was always a catch... this far, it seemed like a win-win. Release some pent-up aggression, the strange hooded boy looked odd enough. By virtue of his abnormalities he might find release in assailing him. Perhaps there were enemies or rivals here he would be able to break. If he won -- there was likely a prize. If he lost -- the opportunity to test his mettle was rare indeed. Number 4.

@Bridget Collins would be marked with a number 5. The boy at the desk knew her, at least of her. There were some incidents one does not forget. There was an itch in the back of her head that she just could not quite scratch as she looked back at him. A truth that was so close it was almost there. His eyes hardened a bit as she received that brand but he did not say a word until it was time to see her off. "Next."

@Amara Dragamior was a Slytherin he did not know, still she was drawn like a moth to a flame just like the rest. A mysterious note more than enough to compel them to explore this mysterious tent. There was safety in numbers. Strength in them. That was what they were always taught -- make allies, exchange favors. That power was in people. That was true, but people were also selfish, brash and rash. They can just as easily irreparably damage those alliances. Prove themselves to be the 'cunning', as Slytherin hubris suggests, creatures that they naturally were. Still, he owed her no victim-hood... yet in any case. She would serve as collateral damage unless her true nature was revealed. Marked with a 6. The line moved on.

Another relative unknown with Asian-features would follow, @Søren Silverwood. The first year had avoided most of the tragic circumstances that had befallen his peers. He had avoided the nightmare that was the common room infestation. He had never crossed a hag doll, been assailed by an unstable student calling him a death witch or something worse. His greatest risk, being accused of stealing some girl's boyfriend. The girls in his year rather possessive of their men, boys being a rare commodity. Today, he would not be so lucky. He was not stealing anyone's man (yet). For whatever reason he decided to pursue this invitation, an idle curiosity, perhaps a dark interest he would later regret. He would have a hard time getting over this gnawing notion that he had in fact seen this young man before. He was not wrong, he would have seen the young man in passing hundreds of times before but not a word was ever passed between them.

Welcome to the game number 7. He was not here to be entertained, he was the entertainment.

A trio would enter, strength in numbers? A fallacy soon to be rectified. @Percival Rainwood, @Adonis Thorn, and @Hanako Tone might have believed themselves friends, partners, cohorts... Perhaps that was why when they heard the notion of a 'basement' they still decided to come forward. It was like seeing a white van with the word 'kidnapper's puppies' emblazoned on the side and deciding to crawl inside because they only read the word PUPPIES, ignoring the first word. No, they were looking for tragedy. Adonis was cracked enough to consider it 'unfortunate' that he had missed the exploits of his peers when the spiders attacked. He was not the first, the second or even the third to be branded. He had seen so many others marked, including his friend Percival before him burned. The smell of pork permeated in the air. He did not leave, neither did Hanako. 8, 9, and 10 it was.

@Koko Riddle would enter the tent, there was already quite a gathering there. Yet there was enough room still to spare. The process had happened so many times before would happen again. She was yet another girl at the front of the line. Her invitation incinerated and she would feel the burn. She might have seen a howler before but this was no howler. A howler speaks the contents of the letter, this letter cried as it was destroyed. An 11 on her arm. Her identity replaced with a mark, number eleven it is.

@Wyatt Starkey would regret not paying attention. This was not the concessions stand for the big game. No, he was the game. It was odd, he should have been concerned... odd that his house was for the most part here. House Slytherin in London. The line moved forward, pushing him to the front. After an awkward silence, the boy with a blackened face would remind him to pass the paper into his possession to be burned. they did not know each other, but Wyatt might suffer from a queer sense of familiarity.

It was not as if @Santario Martintried to get 13 (but she totally did)... She would make her way up to the boy with skin too shiny and taut, his face blackened as if it was smeared with dirt but it was not make-up. His green eyes and youthful features. His dark hair and too thin frame. A face to commit to memory, well what should have been a face. She knew it, they all did. Not a name, they had never truly interacted. But a face she had seen before, somewhere.

" Ya era hora, ah yea, aquí— here."

Remember to provide translations.
It was time, ah yea, here

An exchange would be performed. Paper to flame, admission granted. @Emmanuel Min Requiza would feel the searing pain as he was marked like the rest. "
buena suerte para ti" the hooded gentleman announced. [Best of luck to you] His hand would then gesture for the next Slytherin to step forward. Number 14, was born.

@Margo White was pretty, his eyes rested on her a bit longer than they should have as she stepped forward. He wanted to say something but he thought better of it. One heart break was plenty. The last time he thought a girl was pretty he was almost killed. Besides, he was in no shape to flirt. The diversion of his intentions brief as his heart again hardened. A pretty face forever his weakness. He took the paper without a word, averted his gaze and burned the paper. She would feel this searing sensation on her arm, she was branded and the note howled as it died. His sympathies, she made a fine number 15.

@Cassandra Ironwoods would make her way to the front of the line. Her hair was... unique. What was it with Slytherin girls and indigo hair? He much preferred the 'normal' look on a girl. It looked like a desperate bid for attention from his point of view. She was looking at him, he could tell what she was looking at. He was not going to give her an explanation. This was his mark to bear, just like 16 would be her mark. Magic could fix a great many things, but it was a greater challenge to repair damage wrought by magic. For now, this was the best he could do. Maybe next time they will make the other side match.

@Dmitri Jones, one of the oldest students to enter but sadly one of the physically weakest. He would be marked with the number 17. He would regret falling victim to his curiosity. He had for the most part avoided the suffering of his peers. Why had he decided to ruin a good thing? A mystery that will likely remain as unsolved as the reason why Dan refuses to wear proper footwear. To walk into this den of vipers with a mongoose on the loose. He looked stronger than he actually was. Pity the boy behind the desk thought otherwise. He jot the number 17 and the number 3 down together,leaving himself a little note.

Too late now.

@Ileen Knight would follow the rest. Branded with an 18, this was if nothing else quite orderly. @Percival Gray took 19. He felt like a piece of meat, a rather accurate sentiment really. It was dehumanizing really, marking them with numbers as such but there was always a reason for everything.

@Dealla Prince really thought that this was supposed to be a happy sunshine sort of circumstance? She was one of the few non-Slytherins to get an invitation. Was it a purposeful choice or a mistake on the part of the organizers? No matter, she was marked as a number 20. Ultimately she would find company in Ileen Knight and later in others. Sharing more of herself than intended.

@Ruby Cazares knew better but she was here all the same. A testament of human nature. A test. A demonstration. The young man behind the desk wordlessly took the note and set it afire. A sting and she was marked like the rest -- 21. She knew many of the others already here, many of them her peers.

@Erik Tharldson was agitated as he often was, even when the full moon was not near. The werewolf blueblood found this too slow. Everything was taking too long. He needed something to do, some place to focus his interests, his aggressions. He was given the number 22. His presence had caught the eye of some girls. Something about wild men or bad boys getting all the girls. Not that the wold would care. Dealla and Ileen only had eyes for him.

The boy behind the desk would watch as the various snakes interfaced with each other. It was interesting seeing who knew who and who 'trusted' who. Fidelity was frail. Friendships were fragile. Trust could easily be tarnished. @Ezekiel Wasek would make his way to the front of the line and the boy with the marred face would turn his attention to the teen. He was given the number 23. A face the boy did not know, but likely they had seen each other in passing. No matter. "Find your friends, it will start soon 23," he announced as he dismissed the 23 and let the next snake slither forward.

@Nico Shymane, a Prefect he recognized. Pretty if not a bit sickly, ghost pale in an unsettling manner. She did not get along well with her peers, she often crumbled in the face of disaster. He remembered her, the discord that surrounded her intervention. The strange, unsettling aura she sometimes gave off. Her eyes. Yes, he knew right where she belonged. He wrote her number done on a slip of paper before him and two right after.

@Persephone Barret, another one that he did not know. Despite her sweet-appearing facade, the little girl was broken beyond repair. He had heard of her, but a name and a face are very different things. Something would whisper in the desk jockey's head, "Put her with chiefs," whatever that meant. No no... He knew. Number 25, 3, 24 and... another Prefect, 11. So be it. As she wandered off in search of this ring, escaping through the flaps of the tent to what might be another room or even the outside, she would find herself walking back into the very same room from the opposite side.

Selim, the stabby shinobi would be next in line. He was in the wrong genre. Thinking he could bring a knife to a fist fight being his first mistake. A revelation he would make later perhaps once the rules have been announced. He had seen the others before him hiss in pain and assess their upper arm, but when the oh so familiar pain seared his flesh number 26 wheeled around to face an unseen assailant. "Just another scar," the boy announced with a coldness not seen leveled at a specific person before. He would let out a huff as the boy walked away, he would see him approach Jack. As he left he wrote 26 on a slip of paper in it's own column, adding then after the starry-eyed number 20.

He would watch as certain numbers would congregate. 2, 3, 4, 8, 9 and 10 made a large group. It was obvious separation was required. Why number and let them gather? Let them chatter? It was obvious. To see, to hear and to know. 26 was strongly associated with 3 and not in a good way even if they had a difference of opinion on the matter. Then there was a pair of girlfriends, 18 and 20 eyeing some boy-candy, number 22. Oh this will be fun. Vengeance was often sadistic.

Good-good, things were coming together.

Then the Quidditch Team Captain, the bare-footed inbred @Dan Palmer would trudge into the tent. He did not even bother making eye contact with the teen, he snatched the slip of paper and set it afire. Presence being consent enough, Dan would find himself marked with 27. A twitch on the corner of the scared boy's face indicated a sick sense of humor as the brand was felt. This boy was not particularly kind.

There was mounting concern and confusion. Søren going as far as to say a fighting match or an auction. Both incredibly concerning. But he expressed no interest and made no move to leave. A masochist then. That would have been enough to make anyone leave, even if it was a vague insinuation but... not them. Slytherins were a predictable people even if most failed to consider what made them that way or even why. They wanted to suffer. They deserved to. A sick fascination.

@Maria Dee would be next, her number was 28. The lone, token Hufflepuff, house diversity it would seem. Who knew villain plans had diversity initiatives! Maria had no alliances here. No friendships. She was no more an asset than she was an albatross, she would serve as fine filler the boy reasoned as he mentally acknowledged her mark.

@Caelan Stewart would follow. Marked with a 29, he never questioned why. Unquestioning compliance almost as dangerous as unfounded presumptions. His lack of friends and people to betray or disappoint might be a boon here, in the house of the cunning. The house of forged and forced alliances.

Cassanda and Emmanuel [Thank you Cassandra for providing a translation as per site rules] would pair up. People did not like being alone. They felt safer and stronger together. Dan even approached a boy whose relationship with him could be best described as 'tense'. Instinct dictated a great many things, companionship among them. Humans were by nature pack animals. The lone stand outs, there were a few. Those too scared and isolated to pair up. Dead space, like Wyatt. Too busy staring at the dutiful boy with a strange, almost false-seeming face. No, that was not make-up. The boy would look over at him with a look of disinterest.

@Calvon Faux, an unknown among the Hogwarts students, future member of House Slytherin would somehow find his way to this tent. He too had been invited to this 'demonstration'? This fete? This gathering? Hard to say, no information beyond a summons drew this crowd. It would finally be his turn. An exchange - paper for pain. Number 30 bestowed upon him. He was drawn to the largest gathering of students, a want like most to belong. Did he belong?More than he knew. He had the temperament for betrayal. For alliances. For the sycophantic prerequisites of shallow friendships and appearances.

@Tyranni Whitethorn was one of the later entries. she would enter with her perhaps lover, @Thomas LeStrange. The otherwise single antagonist would stand tall behind her. He had made quite a reputation for himself this past year. He like the others made alliances, perhaps deals with questionable choices. Betrayed many on a whim or when it was advantageous. These two would be given 31 and 32 respectively. There were a few that the boy seemed to take particular pleasure in marking, these two being among them even if it seemed to strain his already stretched face.

Their eyes would linger, the hooded boy with slick skin and the dark deviant. It was far from an amorous gaze. Thomas was the first to ask the right question. Where did he get this parchment? He would not recall the circumstances that placed him in possession of this slip of paper, he would just recall waking on this very morning with this invitation in hand. And now he was no longer Thomas, he was number 32.

A test of your mettle if your merit is lacking. If you come, you will comply. Fight to be free.

Place: London Stadium July 19th, noon.

Take this slip as your admission token. The reward to the victor, if you win is the answer to a burning question on every last one of your lips.

Know us by the mark on our tent.

The Cursed, the Eye and the Spider.

@Alexander Varellion was unique among them. He was awake while everyone else was sleeping. Of all the students here, he had the most right to feel that trepidation. This sense that he had been living in a fog. Yes, he was alive. He toiled and he spoke, he even played. But the next day would come like the first, like a haze. Days, months... no years pass in the blink of an eye. Where had the time gone? How had the world moved on while he sat in the same place! He had a question, but did he have the power to take his answers.

@Thora Larkson would receive her mark and then try to duck out of the tent. While she might have entered through that flap, when she tried to leave she would find herself entering the very same tent from the other side. She was trapped here. This was a game that they were going to have to play. Number 34,please return to the game.

@Jessica Lester was thoughtless but superficially seemed kind. He wondered how long that facade would last. Number 35, a moniker that seemed strangely fitting. It better not be permanent. Or what? It would seem as if her nature was showing through.

@Astrea Soleil Neptune was the last to be numbered. Number 36. He would look past her and then rise to his feet. The young man with a dark mark on his face would let out a hacking cough that seemed to shake his frail body. "That is the last of you then?" He looked around for a moment longer to confirm. His carriage was slightly twisted, deformed perhaps. One shoulder higher than the other, his back hunched over. His was slightly shorter than the average student there.

He would push the table he had been sitting behind aside. The table was one of those thin, long-legged surfaces with a simple black cloth. Once pushed aside, he would reveal a trap door. "The ring," he explained. If one of the students attempted to assail him, he would show them exactly why he did not require security despite his obvious debility.

However, if he was not assailed he would pull the ring and lift the door. A set of stairs would descend into darkness. "Don't bother lighting your wands," he warned. "Wand magic won't work here," his voice seemed indifferent. "You will leave, once we have a victor..." he was the first to descend unless someone else ran in before him. His voice echoed up the stairs as he continued. "You have been so interested in getting answers," it was obvious to the most offensive among them who he was. "The pain and terror of your victims hardly collateral damage," the white knight he was.

He would stop once he reached the ring. A large, roped in area. Around them, bleachers and an audience. Their feet pounded the ground, their hands clapped and their voiced hollered. He would remove the hooded robe and reveal his terrible truth, the product of their greed and indifference. His body marred by deep, dark scars. He wore a simple black tank top. His skin taut and shiny. Black patches under thin pale skin. He was thin, too thin. He lacked for strength, not that it was ever a secret but he looked thinner now. His ribs visible beneath his collar. For those that could see his back, they could count his vertebrae.

He was not disrobing for their benefit, he climbed into the ring and waited for the crowd to silence. "Welcome to Fight Club!" The crowd responded with loud clapping. "As you well know, the first rule of Fight Club is: you do not talk about Fight Club. The second rule of Fight Club is: you DO NOT talk about Fight Club! Third rule of Fight Club: if someone goes limp, the fight is over. Some of us have standards." Yes, that was absolutely a jab at some of them. "Fourth rule: we are playing teams, only the teams called in get to fight. Fifth rule: one fight at a time, fellas. Sixth rule: the fights are bare knuckle. No shirt, no shoes, no weapons." There were assurances of this, but for those that wish to ignore this warning will simply have to suffer the consequences. "Seventh rule: fights will go on as long as they have to. And the eighth and final rule: if this is your first time at Fight Club, you have to fight. Win or lose, once the bracket is over, you will be able to leave."

Yes, a shameless adaptation of the Fight Club movie monologue.

"First fight -- GROUP ONE. 18, 26, 8, 12 and 14. You will be contending with GROUP TWO: 10, 27, 5, 29 and 15. Once your fight is done, you can watch group three and four. There will be no time to heal up between matches so conserve your stamina. The ultimate victor of all of these brackets will get to take on number 1. Win or lose, you get out of here, the crowd gets a good show and if you win... you can take on Vladimir. Beat him and he will answer one question of your choice over dinner." Not that they would win. Not that they could win. He was on a different level than the rest of them. But there was an offer here -- the chance to take him in a five on one match IF they could work together. But that is where things get tricky. Someone has to agree to lose, to lay defeated. To be beaten to submission. There was a reason that friends were not put together.

"Group Three is 20, 19, 16, 9, 23 and they will be facing Group Four comprised of 2, 11, 24 and 25. Group Five will be facing Group Six. Five is comprised of 7, 4, 28, and 32. Group six is comprised of 33, 34, 35 and 36. Finally, group six and seven will be facing eachother. Group Seven is comprised of 6, 13, 30, and 31. Group eight is comprised of 3," he paused for a moment. It had to go on didn't it? "17, 21 and 22."

Group 1
[18] Ileen Knight
[26] Selim Faust
[8] Percival Rainwood
[12] Wyatt Starkey
[14] Emmanuel Min Requiza

Group 2
[10] Hanako Tone
[27] Dan Palmer
[5] Bridget Collins
[29] Caelan Stewart
[15] Margo White

Group 3
[20] Dealla Prince
[19] Percival Gray
[16] Cassandra Ironwoods
[9] Adonis Thorn
[23] Ezekiel Wasek


Group 4
[2] Opeila Seilun
[11] Koko Riddle
[24] Nico Shymane
[25] Persephone Barret


Group 5
[7] Søren Silverwood
[4] Flash Holmwood
[28] Maria Dee
[32]Thomas LeStrange

Group 6
[33] Alexander Varellion
[34] Thora Larkson
[35] Jessica Lester
[36] Astrea Soleil Neptune


Group 7
[6] Amara Dragamior
[13] Santario Martin
[30] Calvon Faux
[31] Tyranni Whitethorn

Group 8
[3] Jack Burnett
[17] Dmitri Jones
[21] Ruby Cazares
[22] Erik Tharldson

This is a fight set-up. There will be several threads. Feel free to react in here. Details will be up shortly.

Santario had seen a few people there she knew but spoke to no one just stood in the back as she observed everyone and who they conversed with. It seemed as if alliances were already forming among friends… What an intriguing word, friends. None of them would be friends by the end of this, she had an inkling. It felt like it took forever for the boy to be done taking entrants and start leading them down to the ring.

Santario, however, thought it would revolve around magic. …Wand magic doesn’t work here… If the already porcelain fine complexion could get anymore pale, it would. Team fighting… With fists. Santario was completely out of her element, and the indifference that masked her face was all for show. Inside she was terrified. San was not a physical fighter; she avoided physical confrontation. …You have to fight… Her head was reeling; she couldn’t even fully comprehend what was going on, but she didn’t have a choice. It was fight and leave only when someone ‘won.’ What would happen if she refused to fight, besides getting the hell beat out of her?

| Stats |

Stamina| 5 | Evasion| 5 | Strength| 3 | Wisdom| 8 | Arcane Power| 7 |Accuracy| 7 |

| Ability |

Healing Sage

Astrea being the last person in the line, the boy taking the invitations stood up with great effort, seeming to struggle. Flash had not looked at him much before being drawn back into conversation by the crowd he was most used to, as far as Slytherins went. The boys in the Severus Snape dorm all knew each other and were on at least tolerable terms with each other. In Slytherin, that meant a lot. Even after Flash had stopped sleeping in the dorm himself, the group gravitated towards each other whenever one was nearby. Familiarity, maybe. Flash couldn’t complain.

The diminutive boy revealed a trap door under the table, leading down a set of stairs. He warned that magic wouldn’t work, which flipped an alarm off in Flash’s brain. Wait, what kind of invitations had those been? Isn't it strange that we all volunteered to be there, after everything we've been through this year? It wasn’t as if Flash couldn’t speak for himself, running into danger to see what it was had become a habit of Opeila and his, much to the chagrin of their friends and each other. Not at all tempted to shy away from the mystery, Flash descended the stairs behind the host, maintaining his sense of calm. It was better for the others if he looked unafraid, it might make them less anxious, less likely to do something irrational.

When they reached their destination, he couldn’t shelter his clear expression of shock to see an audience, cheering their arrival. He took a step back, nearly bumping into the person directly behind him. He still wasn’t used to things like this. Magic was sometimes just altogether shocking. Though he said magic didn’t work there, who were these people? What was going on?

Flash tried to gather himself before he could grow too panicked. There were already plenty of Slytherins he knew who were likely to cause a scene, he didn’t need to be one of them. His body was slightly rigid, perhaps spring-loaded and ready to bolt if something happened. Instead, he kept his face blank and listened.

As he talked, he started to explain in bits and pieces, that they will leave once they have a victor. As he talked, Flash’s mind started to ignite in something… that familiarity. Why did this skeleton look like Victor Moore? In fact, didn’t he look altogether hideous?

No sooner had he thought it, that the robed figure moved to the ring and removed the veil from their eyes. Worse than hideous, he looked like a breathing corpse. It was enough to make Flash’s hand shoot up to his mouth, perhaps to mask the disgust.

Should he feel culpable? He was supposed to watch Victor during the ball, but instead passed him off to Tyranni and Thora so he could have a dance. He couldn’t have known Victor would catch fire, he wasn’t a Seer. Still, he never wanted to see someone in such a state. Not Victor, not Vladimir, nobody. It hurt to look at, but perhaps that was the point in showing it all at once. They ought to be shocked.

He continued with his explanation, laying it out rather clearly. There wasn’t much room for interpretation, except for perhaps the definition of ‘going limp’, which was hard to tell whether it could be a voluntary action. This was an important distinction to make.

”Can you ‘go limp’ on purpose?” Flash raised his voice to ask the question, not wanting it to get steamrolled over before he got an answer. That was always difficult in a big group like this, especially one so full of children.

So it was teams fist fighting each other for the chance of getting to talk to Vladimir. Was he serious, was this his idea? How full of himself could he possibly be? He reminds me of Burnett.. it’s like he wants to get punched… He would never understand the delight some seemed to glean from flaunting their superiority over others. Just like Victor’s sickly visage, it made Flash nauseous.

Still, it wasn’t as though he wasn’t interested in the stupid dinner. In fact, he wondered to himself if there really was anyone in the rest of the Slytherin house more suited to interrogate him than Flash was. Still, wasn’t the cost a bit… pointed? Beating up your own friends to get to him had a greasy slather of smug karmic irony to it. The power was all his in the end, to hold it over their heads that they were all terrible for turning on each other. Ruthless and horrible snakes like always.

Wait, wasn’t this like that one comic book he read? Wasn’t there an obvious answer? Flash turned to the group gathered so far, his voice raised.

”If everyone agrees to not participate, then there can never be a victor. The house loses.” Was he making any sense? It was idealism, a pure childish heart not yet fed enough rounds of disappointment. Slytherins were a type, though. The type that liked answers, and liked winning. He imagined his words would fall on predominantly deaf ears.

He might have to decide how much he wanted to talk to Vlad. Who was on his team, anyway?

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

Mentioning: Snape kids, Opeila, Victor Moore, Vladimir Athantos

Punches

Cross Punch: A direct straight punch similar to the jab, except delivered with the rear hand. Power is generated through the rotation of the hips.

Effect: Attacks a single target at +0 accuracy for 25 damage * strength modifier.

Jab: The jab is a straight blow delivered (generally from a distance) with the arm above the lead foot ... The punch is quick and explosive. This punch must land from the very tips of the knuckles and not from a flat fist. " It is generally used for distraction, keeping distance, setting up, and defense.

Effect: Attacks a single target at +4 accuracy for 23 * strength modifier.

Backfist: A backfist is performed by forming a fist and striking with the backside of the fist.

Effect: Attacks a single target at -4 accuracy for 27 * strength modifier.

Spinning Backfist: A spinning backfist is performed when the attacker swivels 360 degrees before landing the punch, adding extra momentum to the attack. The fighter will lunge and begin spinning toward the side of the opponent of which fist he or she will attack with. Simpler terms, go to the left, spin to the left and connect with the left fist and vice versa.

Effect: Attacks a single target at -4 accuracy for 22 damage * strength modifier. On a full hit there is a 10% chance that the opponent suffers the sprained secondary effect where they suffer a -1 to their dodge for the next 3 rounds as well as the slowed secondary effect where they suffer a -1 to their accuracy for the next 3 rounds. [Can stack] [Each secondary effect is rolled separately]

Chambered Punch: A strike commonly performed in karate, kung fu, and tae kwon do, originating from a "chambered" position.

Prerequisite: Martial Artist

Effect: Attacks a single target at +4 accuracy for 23 * strength modifier. Regardless of success, the martial artist has a +1 dodge to the next attack aimed at them.

Leopard Blow (Long Fist): By tucking the fingertips against the bottom knuckle of each finger, a long fist is formed. They offer decreased strength but increased reach. The striking surface is also narrower, which allows the fist to dig between ribs and other soft target areas.

Effect: Attacks a single target at +0 accuracy for 20 damage * strength modifier. On a full hit there is a 10% chance that the opponent suffers the weakened secondary effect where they do 10% less damage for the next 3 rounds. [Can stack]

Hammer Fist: A compacted fist is brought down upon the target, usually using the outside area of the fist.

Effect: Attacks 1 target at +0 accuracy for 15 * strength modifier initial damage and 10 * strength modifier damage per round for the next 3 rounds.

Haymaker: A punch in which the arm is whipped sideways from the shoulder joint with minimal elbow bend. The name is derived from the motion, which mimics the action of manually cutting hay by swinging a scythe. The haymaker is considered an imperfect/impure punch, as the angle of approach is unsupported by the remainder of the forearm. Since a haymaker's power is derived completely from weight transfer and momentum instead of muscle contraction, a long windup is required to generate sufficient force. Haymakers, in the form of shoulder punches, are frequently used from a mounted position in mixed martial arts as part of the "ground and pound" method, as the legs cannot be used to generate power. When thrown from standing, these punches leave the person vulnerable to a counter punch during the wind up, if blocked, or if the haymaker misses. Haymaker is generally considered a street or bar fighters punch, as it is the punch a person is most likely to use if they have not practiced martial arts and has little to no advantages over other punches such as the somewhat similar hook, making its use by martial artists rare.

Effect: Attacks 1 target at -4 accuracy for 32 * strength modifier. If this attack misses, the next attack on the user is an auto-hit.

Hook: A punch involving the use of turning to aim toward the side of the head or body. This punch must land from the very tips of the knuckles and not from a flat fist.

Effect: Attacks a single target at +0 accuracy for 20 damage * strength modifier. On a full hit there is a the opponent suffers the disoriented secondary effect where there is a 5% chance that they will auto-miss their attacks for the next 3 rounds. [Can stack]

Drop: A semi-circular and vertical punch thrown with the rear hand. It is usually when the opponent is bobbing or slipping. The strategic utility of the drop relying on body weight can deliver a great deal of power. This punch must land from the very tips of the knuckles and not from a flat fist.

Prerequisite: Martial Artist

Effect: Attacks a single target at +0 accuracy for 20 damage * strength modifier. If a player has elected to taker the dodgeoption for this round, this attack negates that effect (meaning the player derives no benefit from the buff to their dodge). This serves as a counter to dodge.

Shovel Hook: A close range punch that is halfway between a hook and an uppercut. Shovel hooks are most commonly used to strike the body at a 45 degree angle. For example, a liver shot can be done using a shovel hook. This punch must land from the very tips of the knuckles and not from a flat fist.

Effect: Attacks a single target at +0 accuracy for 20 damage * strength modifier. On a full hit there is a 10% chance that the opponent suffers the slowed secondary effect where they suffer a -1 to their attack accuracy for the next 3 rounds. [Can stack]

Uppercut: The fist is raised vertically towards the target, usually the head or upper body. Since most guards are held with the arms in a vertical position, the uppercut can be used to avoid the opponent's attempts at blocking. This punch must land from the very tips of the knuckles and not from a flat fist.

Effect: Attacks a single target at +0 accuracy for 20 damage * strength modifier. On a full hit there is a the opponent suffers the disoriented secondary effect where there is a 5% chance that they will auto-miss their attacks for the next 3 rounds. [Can stack] If a player has elected to taker the block option for this round, this attack negates that effect (meaning the player derives no benefit from the buff to their dodge). This serves as a counter to block.

Upset Punch: Starts with the fist in the chambered position, with the palm facing downwards, delivered to the abdomen or solar plexus.

Prerequisite: Martial Artist

Effect: Attacks a single target at +0 accuracy for 20 damage * strength modifier. On a full hit there is a 10% chance that the opponent suffers the disabled secondary effect where they take +10% damage for the next 3 rounds. [Can stack]

Casting Punch: This is a punch used in Sambo and MMA that starts with a forward motion of the shoulders, which causes the bent arm to whip forward to the opponent. This punch can often cause the opponent to be put in a clinch if it misses at close range.

Effect: Attacks a single target at -4 accuracy for 27 damage * strength modifier. On a full hit there is a 10% chance that the opponent suffers the sprained secondary effect where they suffer a -1 to their dodge for the next 3 rounds. [Can stack] However if this attack misses, any grapple attempts for the round have a +3 chance to hit.

Superman Punch: A superman punch or diving punch is a technique used in Muay Thai, ITF-style Taekwon-Do, full contact karate and mixed martial arts fighting. The striker will lunge toward the opponent pushing off with the back foot punching with the opposite arm of the leg used to push off with although there may be variations in the name and technique, depending on the fighting style. The pose should resemble that of Superman flying through the air, hence the name.

Effect: Attacks a single target at -4 accuracy for 27 damage * strength modifier. On a full hit there is a 25% chance that the opponent is knocked onto their back. They must spend their next action getting back onto their feet, therefore their next intended action is lost. This can also be used in a combo, where if it is followed up with a grapple attempt on a target that has been successfully knocked as the user's next action, the attempt has a +2 to the accuracy and strength check. However, this move suffers from a +1 critical fail chance (negated by Perfectionist).

Sucker Punch: A punch that takes the enemy by surprise, possibly knocking them out or otherwise incapacitating them. Could be an unexpected blow to the stomach or a strike from behind that the victim did not see coming.

Effect: A Contested Wisdom Roll is performed to see if the opponent is taken by surprise. If the wisdom roll fails, the attack is an auto-miss. However, if the wisdom roll is successful then the attack is an auto-hit for 25 damage * strength modifier. This attack has a +1 critical range and can only be used by a user once every other round.

Kicks

Font Kick: Delivering a front kick involves raising the knee and foot of the striking leg to the desired height and extending the leg to contact the target with the ball of their foot. Front kicks are typically aimed at targets below the chest: stomach, thighs, groin, knees or lower.

Effect: Attacks a single target at +0 accuracy for 20 damage * strength modifier. +1 critical range.

Upward Kick: Delivering a front kick involves raising the knee and foot of the striking leg to the desired height and extending the leg to contact the target with the tops of their toes. These are normally aimed at targets below the chest: stomach, thighs, groin, knees or lower.

Effect: Attacks a single target at -4 accuracy for 22 damage * strength modifier. On a full hit there is a 10% chance that the opponent suffers the winded secondary effect where they have a 5% chance to auto-fail their actions for the next 3 rounds. [Can stack]

Roundhouse Kick: The attacker swings their leg sideways in a circular motion, kicking the opponent's side with the front of the leg, usually with the instep, ball of the foot, toe, or shin. It can also be performed is a 360-degree kick where the attacker performs a full circle with their leg, in which the striking surface is generally either the instep, shin or ball of the foot.

Effect: Attacks a single target at -4 accuracy for 22 damage * strength modifier. This attack cannot critically fail.

Side kick: The side kick is delivered sideways in relation to the body of the person kicking. A standard side kick is performed by first 'chambering' by raising the kicking leg diagonally across the body, then extending the leg in a linear fashion toward the target, while flexing the abdominals. The two common impact points in sidekicks are the heel or the outer edge of the foot, with the heel is more suited to hard targets such as the ribs, stomach, jaw, temple and chest. When executing a side kick with the heel, the toes should be pulled back so that they only make contact the heel and not with the whole foot as striking with the arch or the ball of the foot can injure the foot or break an ankle.

Effect: A kick that targets a single opponent at +0 accuracy and does 12 damage * strength modifier. On a successful hit, the target is launched back and can hit a second target of the user's choice (must be declared, otherwise it is randomly rolled from ALL targets besides self) at -4 accuracy and for 13 damage. If both targets are hit, both targets are considered to be prone and would lose 1 action as they use the action to stand back up. if only the first target is struck, neither suffer from the secondary effect.

Back Kick: Also referred to as a donkey kick, mule kick, horse kick or turning back kick. This kick is directed backwards, keeping the kicking leg close to the standing leg and using the heel as a striking surface. In wushu, this kick is called the "half-moon" kick but involves the slight arching of the back and a higher lift of the leg to give a larger curvature. It is often used to strike opponents by surprise when facing away from them.

Effect: Attacks a single target at -4 accuracy for 27 damage * strength modifier. +1 critical range.

Axe Kick: In Japanese, kakato-geri or kakato-otoshi; in Korean, doki bal chagi or naeryeo chagi or "chikka chagi". In Chinese, "pigua tui" or "xiapi tui". An axe kick, also known as a hammer kick or stretch kick, is characterized by a straightened leg with the heel descending onto an opponent like the blade of an axe. It begins with one foot rising upward as in a crescent kick then the upward arc motion is stopped and then the attacking foot is lowered to strike the target from above. The arc can be performed in either an inward (counter-clockwise) or outward (clockwise) fashion.

Effect: Effect: Attacks a single target at +4 accuracy for 23 * strength modifier. The user suffers -4 dodge to the next attack and taking critical damage if they are hit.

Butterfly Kick The butterfly kick is done by doing a large circular motion with both feet in succession, making the combatant airborne. There are many variations of this kick. The kick may look like a slanted aerial cartwheel and at the same time, the body spins horizontally in a circle. It begins as a jump with one leg while kicking with the other, then move the kicking leg down and the jumping leg up into a kick, landing with the first kicking leg, all while spinning. This kick involves also the arching the back backwards when airborne to give a horizontal body with high angled legs to the horizontal. First practiced in Chinese martial arts, the butterfly kick, or "xuan zi", is widely viewed as ineffective for actual combat. However, its original purpose was to evade an opponent's floor sweep and flip to the antagonist's exposed side or it may be used as a double aerial kick to an opponent standing off to the side. It is now widely used in demonstrative wushu forms (taolu) as a symbol of difficulty. Also note the similarity in execution when compared to an ice skating maneuver known as a flying camel spin.

Effect: This is an attack that protects the user from having their legs swept. Auto-success attempting to evade a leg sweep attack. In addition this attack strikes a single target twice at 0 accuracy for 10 damage * strength modifier.

Calf Kick This strike is a low roundhouse kick that hits the backside of the calf with the shin. While a Calf Kick sacrifices range in comparison to a standard low roundhouse kick to the thigh, the Calf Kick can't be checked with a knee or grabbed with an arm making it a safer kick for a striker in MMA matches vs opponents capable of checking low kicks or grapplers looking for takedown opportunities.

Effect: This attack cannot be blocked. Performed at +0 accuracy, this attack targets a single opponent for 15 damage * strength modifier. On a full hit, there is a 10% chance that the opponent suffers from the sprained secondary effect where they suffer a -1 to their dodge for the next 3 rounds.

Crescent Kick: In Japanese, mikazuki Geri; in Korean, bandal chagi (반달 차기). The crescent kick, also referred to as a "swing" kick, has some similarities to a hook kick and is sometimes practiced as an off-target front snap kick. The leg is bent like the front kick, but the knee is pointed at a target to the left or right of the true target. The energy from the snap is then redirected, whipping the leg into an arc and hitting the target from the side. This is useful for getting inside defenses and striking the side of the head or for knocking down hands to follow up with a close attack. In many styles of T'ai chi ch'uan and Kalaripayattu, crescent kicks are taught as tripping techniques. When training for crescent kicks, it is common to keep the knee extended to increase the difficulty. This also increases the momentum of the foot and can generate more force, though it takes longer to build up the speed. In this case, it serves as a tripping technique.

Effect: Attacks a single target at +4 accuracy for 10 damage. On a full hit, there is a 30% chance that the opponent is tripped, knocked prone. They lose their next action as a result.

[/quote]

The following not actions yet, will be added at next bracket.


The descriptions for many of these moves have been shamelessly taken from wikipedia. However the numbers are unique to this community.

Amara stands taller as Victor announces what is to come and the teams. The words 'I am number six' reply over and over again in Amara's mind when she hears some boy, Flash is his name, ask everyone to not fight. Amara scoffs at his idealism. Even though she does not particularly care about dining with Victor, she does have some things she would like to ask him.

In addition to that, games are meant to be be played to win not to try or worse, lose. Amara may not be much of a fighter, but she can hold her own and she will.

Mentions- @Flash Holmwood @Victor Moore

Stats-
Stats:
Stamina: 5
Evasion: 5
Strength: 4
Wisdom: 9
Arcane Power: 5
Accuracy: 7

The second Koko entered the ring, a bit behind the rest of the other Slytherins, she had to ask herself what on Earth she'd signed up for. She had to take a moment to adjust to the scene, and even then she was still convinced her eyes were playing a rude joke on her. What? A Fight Club? A weird feeling made the girl's stomach queasy, and she grimaced. It would be safe to say that the blonde prefect was horrified. Making children fight, just to have a question answered?

But... Could it be any question? Or rather, would it be any question?

Koko'd never thought herself to be very strong. Sure, she could throw a punch, but she was much more suited to blocking and dodges. Koko, while knowing how to throw an okay roundkick, knew how to protect her head much better.

She'd never been in a real fight, either, unless you counted sibling squabbles. She was screwed.

Right as that thought entered her mind, however, she mentally slapped herself in the face. She'd only lose more quickly if she thought like that. And besides, she thought, she knew everyone in her group! Well... She'd only seen Slytherins, anyway. Maybe Sapphire'd be in her group.

Remembering who had been in front of her during that line, she smiled in a way that didn't reach her eyes as she thought of Opeila. Someone she knew, at least, and someone who didn't seem willing to betray her. That was nice.

Still, her gaze travelled regretfully to where her only friend - well, maybe that wasn't entirely true any longer - stood. Ruby... Ruby most certainly wasn't number 24 or 25. Koko didn't want to fight Ruby. Ruby would win, anyway. Who on earth was weaker than Koko freakin' Riddle? Probably not Ruby.

Koko wanted to cry, but she'd learnt that big girls didn't cry. So instead, she lifted her chin and began walking to Opeila. At least, she reckoned, she'd be able to talk with her sort-of-friends after? She wrung her hands in front of her and forced a smile on her small pink lips. "Hey, I think we're in the same group as..." Koko paused, hesitating, "Uh... Someone we know, probably. I dunno who got 24 and 25. I'm... I'm Koko, if you don't remember me," Koko finished, her voice trembling just a tiny bit. It was enough so it was likely she was the only person who heard it, but it was enough to infect her soul with worry.

Koko knew she could dodge; she could take a hit. Could the rest of her group?

Part-Veela
Evasive Maneuvers

Sta | 10
Eva | 6
Str | 3
Acc | 6
Arc | 5
Wis | 6

@Opeila Seilun

Interacting with: @Dealla Prince and friends

Maria was beginning to think that her life in this school was just one weird dangerous situation after another. First, it was the creepy invitation, second, it was the number that burned itself into her arm, and now it was this knock-off version of her mother’s favorite Brad Pitt movie (given that Laura loved all his movies, but this one was iconic in Maria’s opinion). And as the last rule says, she would have to fight. There was a crowd around them, and a boy that looked like he’d fall apart even if he just sneezed too hard seemed to be their Tyler Durden. Maria squinted. No, he probably wasn’t as weak as he looked, that would be all too simple, and nothing was ever this simple.

Earlier a girl had called her name and introduced herself, asking the Huffle if she wanted to sit with them as if it were Wednesday as she was wearing pink. But before she could introduce herself properly, they were promptly escorted into the ring.

Now, here she was, playing a role in the Hogwarts adaptation of a film her father said was a “critique on capitalism and a bunch of childish men” (of course she didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded interesting). But if there was one thing this version kept it was the actual fighting. No wands, just you, your teammates and whatever strength any of you had. Maria’s stomach churned. She would probably be grouped with more Slytherin. While she was definitely “Hufflepuff Companion” material, she wasn’t too sure how she would fare in a fist fight.

Deep down, she gently reminded herself that Honey Badgers could take on grown lion, birds or snakes, and if there was anyone who needed to draw strength from House Pride right now, it was her.

Ability: Sixth Sense

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

The conversation between him an Cassandra would be cut off by the ticket boy new announcement. Still curious, although cautious, Emmanuel would slowly head towards the door after the ticket boy. He committed the fact no magic would be able to be used and chuckled inwardly. Well wasn't this a surprise, luckily he didn't focus much on magic anyway. Indeed in this moment of time a fire was lit within, the desire to fight. Tilting his head back he spoke to the other Spanish descendant, "
Esto plantea muchas preguntas no?" He asked. (This raise many questions no?)

Taking this moment to get a bit more comfortable who knew when a better chance would arise, he took off his cloak and button up. This would reveal his number — 14, and maybe the alert others he was preparing for a fight.

Seer

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

Interaction: @Cassandra Ironwoods

Reducio

Percival's eyes widened incredibly as the boy lifted a door. Behind the door, he revealed a set of stairs that descended into the darkness.

The boy's hand itched to feel the familiar feeling of the cherry wood that made up his wand. Feeling the grooves of the wand had always calmed him. Though it was not like the boy needed it to feel safe. Percival brought a hand and touched the strap of his guitar. It helped to center him as if his Uncle was there with him.

His eyes widened as the man told them wand magic didn't work here. Unlike many of his week classmates, the boy was fairly used to using his fists, and he hoped that it would protect him from whatever was down there.

Well, that was at least what the boy hoped he would be able to do. He did not know what was down there, and he had a feeling that he didn't get much choice in whether or not he would go down.

Percival grit his teeth before walking down the stairs towards the ring. All the way down the boy did his best to stay near his friend Hanako.

He found some safety walking close to his friend. Percival had trouble putting it into words, but he enjoyed the other's company.

Percival wondered if it was just because he had become closer to the other boy fairly quickly. Either way, it didn't matter at the moment as he saw the ring.

His eyes widened as he turned to look at the audience. The boy did a little spin around trying to see everything at once. It felt like he was being closed in, like a caged animal forced to perform.

Percival tightened his hands into fists and frowned deeply. The boy watched as the other revealed himself. The kid seemed so familiar to him, but he could hardly place a name on the scarred boy.

Though he could barely say he even knew why he thought this kid was familiar. One thing Percival could tell was that the boy looked fairly malnourished.

Percival's eyes widened as he heard the boy announce the event they apparently were not attending, but performing at.

He gritted his teeth as he did his best to listen to all the hogwash the boy spouted. While he wished he could block it out, he wanted to figure out exactly what was going on.

Percival's eyes widened as he listened to the fourth rule. The boy himself slowly inched closer to Hanako, wanting to stay as close as possible to the other boy.

The boy found solace knowing they would be allowed to leave even if they lost, but something inside him made him doubt the words of the strange-looking boy.

His mind spun in circles wondering if those who lost maybe weren't allowed to leave. Though he was roughly brought out of his thoughts as he heard the following words.

"First fight -- GROUP ONE. 18, 26, 8, 12 and 14. You will be contending with GROUP TWO: 10, 27, 5, 29 and 15."

'That's my number.' he thought becoming suddenly aware he was about to get thrown into a fight.

Percival turned to Hanako in a quick motion feeling dread creep up as if it was choking him. The boy grabbed Hanako's right arm before yanking up his sleeve.

The boy could not help but blanche as he stared at the burned skin in the shape of a '10'.

'18, 26, 8, 12 and 14'

It took a second for the boy to realize that he and Hanako weren't on the same team. They were fighting each other until someone passed out.

'18, 26, 8, 12 and 14'

Percival felt dread and anger curl into his gut like a snake about to attack.

'18, 26, 8, 12 and 14'

It hit Percival like a truck they were just numbers to these people. Nameless faces that the crowd didn't care about. These sick bastards were willingly watching children beat each other to a pulp.

Percival bit his lip as he felt stupid for ever approaching this place in the first place. He should have taken his two friends somewhere else. Percival wondered why he hadn't said anything even when he had been nervous.

"This is bull####." he said under his breath almost as if he was still in awe at the gall these people had.

Percival glanced towards Hanako with wide eyes as he debated on what to say and what to do. Should he stay with his friend or try and find his newfound group. The boy bit the inside of his cheek as he stared at Hanako.

"I'm sorry. This is so messed up." he said his voice unsure and quiet. He wanted to tell the other so much how he didn't want to fight him. How much the other boy really meant to him, but he was at a loss for words.

Interacting with: @Hanako Tone @Ileen Knight @Emmanuel Min Requiza @Selim Faust @Wyatt Starkey

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

Ability: Foul play