Fire with Fire.
10th September 2026
Early Afternoon
Whenever @Silas Norwood looked at his bed on 9th September, he would be met with quite the surprise. It would appear that he had been the target of a prank – thumbtacks had been left all over his blankets while he wasn't looking. Perhaps more noticeable for him, though, was the note his prankster had presumably left behind:
Early Afternoon
Whenever @Silas Norwood looked at his bed on 9th September, he would be met with quite the surprise. It would appear that he had been the target of a prank – thumbtacks had been left all over his blankets while he wasn't looking. Perhaps more noticeable for him, though, was the note his prankster had presumably left behind:
Yo! You just got pranked!
Loser behaviour, for sure.
Now you've gotta prove yourself.
Unless you want all the sound people to think you're a bloody wimp.
So tomorrow, the 10th, we dare you to head up to the 2nd floor corridors. Come right before afternoon classes.
Turn right. Look under the left foot of the second suit of armour.
No peeks! Just your hand. Wait.
Are you ready to prove you're a real man?
See ya then.
The note was hastily written a piece of notebook paper with a half-dry permanent marker. All of those contraptions had been easy finds at Muggle Artefacts in Hogsmeade, as had a paperback 'slang' dictionary. Livia had leafed through it, intrigued, only to finally learn what 'gang gang' meant. Despite feeling mildly betrayed that she had been led astray last autumn, she endeavoured to utilise this newfound knowledge for devious ends.
This school had gone long enough with enduring the disgusting rucksack of insults that seemed to be called Silas. He had, throughout the course of the last year, proven himself to be about as functional as a broken skewer with a brain about as thoughtful as a thick, iron bludger. Livia had tired of working under him in the Hogwarts Headliner. His behaviour, alongside an article by Aly Salinger, had ultimately led to her stepping down from the position of Secretary. Though being a writer was preferable to being his only link to responsibility, Livia had found herself growing irritable with every instance that she entered into the Headliner break room. Every day brought with it a new and heinous occurrence. Perhaps it was some foully uttered swear, screamed far too obnoxiously to truly mean anything other than brutish vulgarity; otherwise, it was lazily tossed knives flying through the air, as the slimy waste of oxygen appeared to think noticeboards were for target practice.
Livia had had enough.
If the doltish administrators at this behemoth school were unable to handle the nuisance that was Norwood, then the duty would fall to this young, though precocious, girl, who thought that, surely, she ought to reorder the school's system of discipline. Detention did not function for people like Norwood. Ridding society of his presence required more elaborate means.
It began with chemistry, and rudimentary chemistry at that. The property she required the most of was force unless one were to include anonymity, which, too, was necessary for what she had planned.
The final project was not elephantine. Anything too dangerous, and Livia would have put her own reputation and schooling in danger. She did not truly intend harm. Intrigue, yes. Drama, yes. Enough evidence laid for the path to ultimately lead to Norwood – anyone who cared would find that, around the boy's bed, certain alchemic and chemical ingredients had been planted haphazardly. How? The girl had contacts and was not half bad at skulking about.
What she wanted was carefully plotted noise and disruption, not destruction. She had organised it cleanly, from the materials to the setting. The corridors, when her class was nearby but not too close, and when a number of students had not quite made it to the 2nd floor just yet. A quietly murmured incendio had lit the long fuse, and by the time the catalysing had occurred, Livia Machavariani would be long gone.
If he was as stupid as Livia assumed, Silas Norwood would have appeared when there were twenty seconds to detonation. He would not be harmed by the 'explosion', if you could even call it that. Perhaps a bit singed in the nostril hairs, but that was doing society a favour. The suit of armour he would be bothering would be somewhat blackened, and Silas might gain soot on his face – fitting, and if Livia were not concerned for her own reputation, a sight she would wish to purvey.
She would hear of this, certainly. But it would be from a quiet Headliner office, where rumours congregated under the arched roof of good journalism. Now, only the act of waiting remained. She, however, would do that from her desk, ink-dipped quill in hand. Even as she pulled out her chair and set down her belongings, she could not quite suppress the smallest, self-satisfied smirk. She sat primly and began to write the date on a piece of parchment, fully aware that, quite soon, there would be one absolute disruption to learning.
This school had gone long enough with enduring the disgusting rucksack of insults that seemed to be called Silas. He had, throughout the course of the last year, proven himself to be about as functional as a broken skewer with a brain about as thoughtful as a thick, iron bludger. Livia had tired of working under him in the Hogwarts Headliner. His behaviour, alongside an article by Aly Salinger, had ultimately led to her stepping down from the position of Secretary. Though being a writer was preferable to being his only link to responsibility, Livia had found herself growing irritable with every instance that she entered into the Headliner break room. Every day brought with it a new and heinous occurrence. Perhaps it was some foully uttered swear, screamed far too obnoxiously to truly mean anything other than brutish vulgarity; otherwise, it was lazily tossed knives flying through the air, as the slimy waste of oxygen appeared to think noticeboards were for target practice.
Livia had had enough.
If the doltish administrators at this behemoth school were unable to handle the nuisance that was Norwood, then the duty would fall to this young, though precocious, girl, who thought that, surely, she ought to reorder the school's system of discipline. Detention did not function for people like Norwood. Ridding society of his presence required more elaborate means.
It began with chemistry, and rudimentary chemistry at that. The property she required the most of was force unless one were to include anonymity, which, too, was necessary for what she had planned.
The final project was not elephantine. Anything too dangerous, and Livia would have put her own reputation and schooling in danger. She did not truly intend harm. Intrigue, yes. Drama, yes. Enough evidence laid for the path to ultimately lead to Norwood – anyone who cared would find that, around the boy's bed, certain alchemic and chemical ingredients had been planted haphazardly. How? The girl had contacts and was not half bad at skulking about.
What she wanted was carefully plotted noise and disruption, not destruction. She had organised it cleanly, from the materials to the setting. The corridors, when her class was nearby but not too close, and when a number of students had not quite made it to the 2nd floor just yet. A quietly murmured incendio had lit the long fuse, and by the time the catalysing had occurred, Livia Machavariani would be long gone.
If he was as stupid as Livia assumed, Silas Norwood would have appeared when there were twenty seconds to detonation. He would not be harmed by the 'explosion', if you could even call it that. Perhaps a bit singed in the nostril hairs, but that was doing society a favour. The suit of armour he would be bothering would be somewhat blackened, and Silas might gain soot on his face – fitting, and if Livia were not concerned for her own reputation, a sight she would wish to purvey.
She would hear of this, certainly. But it would be from a quiet Headliner office, where rumours congregated under the arched roof of good journalism. Now, only the act of waiting remained. She, however, would do that from her desk, ink-dipped quill in hand. Even as she pulled out her chair and set down her belongings, she could not quite suppress the smallest, self-satisfied smirk. She sat primly and began to write the date on a piece of parchment, fully aware that, quite soon, there would be one absolute disruption to learning.
Moderation info:
- The deadline for entering the thread will be 23 September 2026 at 12:00 UTC.
- BUT! Wait for @Silas Norwood to post first.
- YOU MUST BE INDEXED TO PARTICIPATE.
- Do not godmod knowing that Livia was behind this. (You may try to find out, but no guarantees! I promise, her shenanigans are not the point. I intend for chaos to ensue!)
- When you post, please provide stats and abilities. Additionally, you may bring 2 potions, one dose each, in your inventory. If you do that, state which 2 you bring.
- Please also state a moderated action if you're doing something other than talking to people.
- All spells/potions must be in your possession as items.
- The more chaos and fun, the better.
Reducio
All godmodding of Silas Norwood agreed to in DMs
OOC NOTE: Please direct any questions during the weekend to Silas Norwood. I will NOT be able to answer them in a timely manner.
Reducio
My stats:
Sta: 2 | Eva: 10 | Str: 0 | Wis: 8 | Arc: 10 | Acc: 10
terrible presence | perfectionist
Sta: 2 | Eva: 10 | Str: 0 | Wis: 8 | Arc: 10 | Acc: 10
terrible presence | perfectionist
Last edited by Livia Machavariani on 22 Sep 2026, 23:38, edited 1 time in total.
[staff] jessamine lancaster | marina alacrán [inpc]
Fire with Fire.
Thumbtacks were not something that anyone typically expected to see when they looked at their bed. Surprised, Silas was immediately met with a mixture of thoughts. The first was who did this? There was no shortage of possibilities, nor did he have to ask himself why, since the list of people he had wronged or who found him irritating at best and repulsive at worst could fill several books. He could not recall a particular incident over the past couple of days that stood out abnormally, though. Naturally, he now wanted to find whoever did this and get revenge. He couldn’t let anyone think that this could become a habit.
He was lucky that he hadn’t simply flopped onto the bed, or he would have had a real problem with the culprit. As it was, he was mildly intrigued, though also simultaneously a bit unnerved. He already got very little sleep to begin with due to nightmares and tendencies of an insomniac, and had issues with the fact that so many people potentially had access to where he would lay unconscious and defenceless. Finding what was supposed to be a “safe” area to rest trapped when he returned did not help that.
Then, he spotted the note, and concern dissipated as he read the challenge, not sure whether to be annoyed or entertained. He settled for something in between, closer to the latter, undeniably interested by the wording and the idea that there might be someone more like him, someone fluent in the language of pranks and provocation. It contained slang he was used to and was written on ordinary notebook paper instead of parchment — details that did not go unnoticed.
All in all, it was more than enough for him to knowingly take the bait and show up the next day at the specified location right before afternoon classes were due to begin. But while he was curious enough to go along with whatever this was, he was not quite stupid enough to blindly reach his hand somewhere that was intended by the same person or people who had left thumbtacks waiting for him. He stood by the suit of armour, beginning to peer down. He was blissfully unaware of exactly what was about to happen.
It didn’t take long before the explosion went off. Should he have known better? Probably. But there he was, and there a lot of smoke was all of a sudden, too. He stumbled back, getting away from the heat, and could see that the foot of the suit of armour had shifted, impacting its structural integrity. Before he could react, it was creaking and leaning, and then toppling, the crash echoing through the corridor just as much as the boom had. He froze, utterly bewildered, eyes wide. For once, he was standing in the middle of absolute chaos that actually wasn’t his fault, though no one would believe him. Silas Norwood had been framed.
He was lucky that he hadn’t simply flopped onto the bed, or he would have had a real problem with the culprit. As it was, he was mildly intrigued, though also simultaneously a bit unnerved. He already got very little sleep to begin with due to nightmares and tendencies of an insomniac, and had issues with the fact that so many people potentially had access to where he would lay unconscious and defenceless. Finding what was supposed to be a “safe” area to rest trapped when he returned did not help that.
Then, he spotted the note, and concern dissipated as he read the challenge, not sure whether to be annoyed or entertained. He settled for something in between, closer to the latter, undeniably interested by the wording and the idea that there might be someone more like him, someone fluent in the language of pranks and provocation. It contained slang he was used to and was written on ordinary notebook paper instead of parchment — details that did not go unnoticed.
All in all, it was more than enough for him to knowingly take the bait and show up the next day at the specified location right before afternoon classes were due to begin. But while he was curious enough to go along with whatever this was, he was not quite stupid enough to blindly reach his hand somewhere that was intended by the same person or people who had left thumbtacks waiting for him. He stood by the suit of armour, beginning to peer down. He was blissfully unaware of exactly what was about to happen.
It didn’t take long before the explosion went off. Should he have known better? Probably. But there he was, and there a lot of smoke was all of a sudden, too. He stumbled back, getting away from the heat, and could see that the foot of the suit of armour had shifted, impacting its structural integrity. Before he could react, it was creaking and leaning, and then toppling, the crash echoing through the corridor just as much as the boom had. He froze, utterly bewildered, eyes wide. For once, he was standing in the middle of absolute chaos that actually wasn’t his fault, though no one would believe him. Silas Norwood had been framed.
Reducio
Stats:
Stamina: 8
Evasion: 8
Strength: 6
Wisdom: 5
Arcane Power: 5
Accuracy: 8
Not carrying any potions. That’s a problem for future him
Stamina: 8
Evasion: 8
Strength: 6
Wisdom: 5
Arcane Power: 5
Accuracy: 8
Not carrying any potions. That’s a problem for future him
Second student character of Ruby Cazares | Staff account: Taros Quintero | iNPC: Valeriy Viktorovna Reznikov
Check out the Headliner!
Fire with Fire.
Like some students, Angel was at best perceptive with social cues and how things were supposed to run. She was at most, neutral to most things and would most likely have no compelling thought of decision and would let the lot choose whichever was the majority, that was the most likely choice however sometimes, she'd be to choose whether she'll fancy option A or B.
Angel had recalled the last month of June when she was in detention for sneaking in Hogsmeade and she had to admit she was quite fond of her outing with Cecilia Merrick when they went for Honeydukes, she was up for adventures and was not having a troublesome time to distrupting rules, it was becoming more accustomed to her. Youth as they say is full of stupidity and Angel which she hated to admit it she was like most volatile students who were up to or assumed trouble. The slytherin lass was having her errand somewhere, she needed to get something from the library.
It was quite saddening to her when she realized something was amiss. There was something in the air and she didn't know what. Her keen sense of smell was activated and it was easily detected. Smoke.
Running from stairs galore, she was halted from her movement when she saw something theatric. Destruction of the halls.
"Oh dear Merlin..." she whispered as she covered her mouth.
————
stats: Stamina: 8, Evasion: 6, Strength: 5, Wisdom: 7, ArcPower: 3, Accuracy: 6
abilities: lovely Creature, Dhampir
inventory: Black Fire Potion, Gregory’s Unctuous Unction
Last edited by Angel Dayes on 19 Sep 2026, 16:37, edited 2 times in total.
INPC: Chelsea Mitzchel
"That cloud, what's it called again?"
"That cloud, what's it called again?"
Fire with Fire.
by Elena Clark
He ambled towards class, soaking in the old familiarity of these halls. He had only been here a week or so, but everything seemed new yet nostalgic at the same time. After taking a gap year from Hogwarts to focus on his muggle high school curriculum at the behest of his nagging parents, coming back to Hogwarts was a fresh breath of air sweetened by independence.
The place was the same but different. How to describe it? Everyone he knew had a year to get to know themselves and develop relationships amongst their classmates without his presence. The 7th years he knew and looked up to were gone. His friends -- did he have many friends anymore? He would have to see how the beginning of the semester went. The quidditch team, which he had spent most of his afternoons with, was filled with a completely different roster of kids he hardly even knew. And he was no longer one of them. How had something that he treasured so much been taken away from him within just a year?
With a deep sigh in mourning of all that had been, he exhaled and then breathed in deeply. But, his melancholy was soon shattered by a large BOOM, almost knocking the small (but now much more grown) boy off his feet. The smell of wood, old oil paintings, and... smoke(?) filled his nostrils. He frowned and perked at that last piece of information. Loud noises did not surprise him anymore, given the plethora of unskilled underclassmen spellcasters (sometimes himself included), but a loud noise plus smoke was a different thing.
Avery turned a corner, following the smell of smoke. His brows rose in amusement at the sight he beheld. A toppled, blackened suit of armor was laying on the floor, its leg blown off or something. And there was a boy standing nearby, covered in soot. Looking closer, he briefly recognized the boy as a Slytherin underclassman, who was on the quidditch team. Not that he knew what role he played. The boy's expression seemed to be a bit more of bewilderment rather than anything else. Was it he who set off the explosion? If so, his expression was extremely unsuitable for the chaos he had caused.
Now, what would make it more fitting?
He noticed a girl with porcelain skin turn the corner at the same time, who gasped at the scene of destruction. The whole stage was amusing, but not enough.
Avery grinned, and reached into his robes for his wand. He knew just the type of cherry to put on top of this play. The world was his stage, and it had welcomed him back to Hogwarts.
"Serenate," he said, leisurely pointing his wand at the Slytherin boy. If he was on the quidditch team, it wouldn't hurt for him to get detention for what he did. Then, maybe a spot on the team would open up for Avery Chen.
Action: Casting Cheering Charm at Silas.
@Silas Norwood, @Angel Dayes, @Livia Machavariani
Stats: Stamina: 15 | Evasion: 15 | Strength: 6 | Wisdom: 7 | ArcPower: 4 | Accuracy: 12 (+3 Muggle Condition)
Abilities: Blindvision, Mugge Condition, Savior, Evasive Maneuvers
Edit: Oops forgot to add stats/abilities
Last edited by Avery Chen on 19 Sep 2026, 13:44, edited 1 time in total.
Fire with Fire.
Word Count: 250
| Date: September 10th, 2026 | Time: Afternoon | Location: Cooridors, Hogwarts | Participation: N/A |
| Mentions: @Silas Norwood | @Livia Machavariani | @Angel Dayes | @Avery Chen |
| Song: Sabatoge - Beastie Boys ˜”*°•x•°*”˜ | Outfit: ˜”*°•x•°*”˜ |
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚇𝚒𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍. 𝙲𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚛 𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚛, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚎, 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝.
𝙰 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐, 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚇𝚒𝚘’𝚜 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎.
𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚣𝚎. 𝚂𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢.
𝙸𝚏 𝚇𝚒𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝, 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕—𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚝, 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚎 𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚢, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢.
𝙾𝚗𝚎… 𝚝𝚠𝚘… 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎…
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚛.
𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛… 𝚏𝚒𝚟𝚎… 𝚜𝚒𝚡…
𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚛. 𝚇𝚒𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚕, 𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕.
𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗… 𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝… 𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚎… 𝚝𝚎𝚗.
𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍-𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚟𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝙱𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙱𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚂𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚜’𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚔𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜.
OOC Notes:
MOD REQUEST: Livia please do a Accuracy Check for throwing the vile
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.|Stamina ★ 5 | Evasion ★ 6 | Strength ★ 3 | Wisdom ★ 8 | ArcPower ★ 7 | Accuracy ★ 6 |. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
"You look like you need some Pixy Stixs! Want one?"
Fire with Fire.
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@Silas Norwood
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━sta 06|eva 07| str 03| wis 09| arc 07| acc 08━━━━━━ Prodigal Astronomy Learner | Wandmaker ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━Fawkes had been on her way to go up to the Astronomy tower to finish her work of charting out the september star map for this year. Sure she had her old ones but she liked to re-plot them every year to see if the positions of any of the objects had changed.
She walked through the corridor carrying a bunch of parchment and quills as she made her way through the corridors when suddenly, there was an explosion some ways infront of her. Her eyes widened as she saw the smoke and she picked up her pace to make it over as quickly as she could. The sound of armour falling though had made her flinch from how loud it was. On instinct, her hands flew to her ears to muffle the sound which caused her to drop all her supplies which only added to the noise.
When her ears had finally stopped ringing, she sighed and looked down to her fallen stuff. She bent down to pick it up while the smoke began to clear. Her hand paused as she noticed who exactly was standing there. Silas Norwood. Fawkes had duelled him last year and while she had lost quite badly, the main reason she didn't like him was his bad attitude during the match. She just remained there. Crouched on the ground and staring at him, wide-eyed as it clicked. He must have been the one who knocked it down.
Oh merlin.... Norwood what did you do? She asked finally standing up, holding her stuff once more.
Stats: sta 06|eva 07| str 03| wis 09| arc 07| acc 08
Abilities: Prodigal Astronomy Learner | Wandmaker (Phoenix feather)
Potions: Muffling draught, Confusing concoction I think these two will cause the most chaos
| INpc: Raphael S. Jourdain | If you feel lost look up at the night sky. The stars will light your path! | Shop!: The Starlight Observatory |
Fire with Fire.
”
”Song Quote”
Reducio
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Reducio |
Reducio |
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———————-sta 07|eva 08| str 04| wis 08| arc 07| acc 06———————————————
—————-prodigal charms learner, perfectionist—————————————— |
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"A wise girl knows her limits; A smart girl knows she has none."
Fire with Fire.
〚 •• ✎ •• 〛
| Location: Second floor corridors | Date: 10/09/26 | Word count: 389 |
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The sluggishness that always seemed to follow a good lunch was still clinging to Frederick as he made his way to his afternoon classes at a lazy pace. He had just left the Great Hall, climbing the stairs with his backpack hanging from only one shoulder, his hair a little messier than he had intended - courtesy of the morning lessons outside the castle, where the wind had gotten the better of his hairstyle - and a calm expression resting on his face.
Buckley only snapped out of his daze as he approached the second floor. His destination was still a few flights of stairs above, but a sudden bang, a loud explosive crack, made his curiosity pull him in another direction. The noise seemed to have come from one of the corridors, and Frederick hurried over to see what had happened. As he quickened his pace toward the sound, a trail of smoke confirmed that he was heading the right way. It wasn't long before he stumbled upon the aftermath of the mess.
A few people were already there, apparently drawn by the same curiosity as Fred, and one of them was standing in front of a suit of armor, right where the smoke was thickest. In the blink of an eye, the armor collapsed, crashing onto the stone floor with a deafening clatter. Experienced in the particular matter of collapsing suits of armor, Fred immediately covered his ears and narrowed his eyes. The corridor was absolute chaos, and it took him a moment to identify the culprit behind it all. It was Silas Norwood, a boy in his year whom Fred knew mostly by sight and mostly because of Quidditch.
A mischievous spark lit up Fred's eyes. Everyone there was a witness. Silas was clearly the one responsible, someone just needed to say it out loud and perhaps the Slytherin boy would end up in detention and out of the beginning of the Quidditch season. Buckley took a few more steps forward, also recognizing Angel Dayes, a girl he'd met during summer camp, and decided to stop near her. He tilted his head toward the wreckage, then spoke loudly enough for everyone in the corridor to hear. “Is that Silas Norwood? Looks like he planted a bomb inside that suit of armor. That could've seriously hurt someone!”
| Interacting with: @Angel Dayes @Silas Norwood |─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
| Stats: Sta-8 ⁞ Eva-8 ⁞ Str-6 ⁞ Wis-5 ⁞ Arc-4 ⁞ Acc-10 |
| Abilities: Evasive Maneuvers ⁞ Keeper's Catch | Inventory: Drowsiness Draught |
Sta 8 | Eva 8 | Str 6 | Wis 5 | Arc Power 4 | Acc 10
Abilities: Evasive Maneuvers, Keeper's Catch
Fire with Fire.
____That exact afternoon, Millie was just finished her little experiment in potions 'lab' room as she also pocketing them inside her satchel. Just fortunate her little mischief creature, Mr. Hobkin, is not included there inside for today as she afraid he will accidently break, boom, or poof something while she was preoccupied enough with her brewing. Now she finally done with it, Millie intend to go back up to the common room and see the chance if she can use a little time of hers to nap.
____However when she's not even close to the tower yet, the girl jolted because of the explosion from the corridor. Curious what was just happened there, she quietly climbing up the stairs one by one. Curious yet still on guard.
____Standing close behind her fellows Ravenclaw, Millie followed her eyes where Chaos and Carilla threw their suspiciousness to one of the boys not far from the armour. Squinted her eyes whilst lengthening her neck to see it better to the chaos scene, Millie can't help but wondering if it just one of the tricks most Slytherin loved to do most in their free time or is it something else beyond their eyes can see. She peered the boy in suspect, then looked closely at that suit of armour once again.
____However when she's not even close to the tower yet, the girl jolted because of the explosion from the corridor. Curious what was just happened there, she quietly climbing up the stairs one by one. Curious yet still on guard.
____Standing close behind her fellows Ravenclaw, Millie followed her eyes where Chaos and Carilla threw their suspiciousness to one of the boys not far from the armour. Squinted her eyes whilst lengthening her neck to see it better to the chaos scene, Millie can't help but wondering if it just one of the tricks most Slytherin loved to do most in their free time or is it something else beyond their eyes can see. She peered the boy in suspect, then looked closely at that suit of armour once again.
__________
10th of September, 2026
217WC
standing in silence behind @Fawkes Chaos & @Tina Carilla
217WC
standing in silence behind @Fawkes Chaos & @Tina Carilla
STA 6 - STR 5 - EVA 8 - ACC 7 - WIS 9 - ARC 5
cat grace & 6th sense
forgetfulness potion & confusing concoction
give me a lemon and I'll makes us some lemonades
-join if u like pls-
-join if u like pls-
Fire with Fire.
banner by.__adeline spinks
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mentions.__@silas norwood
location.__corridors________date.__september 10th, 2026
"spoken in English;"________"spoken in Gaelic."
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Thursday was an unassuming day. Perhaps, at this point in her Hogwarts journey, she should have known that it was never a normal day in the castle. This, however, was a rather... explosive day. You see, Alyss wasn't involved. She was the sweet, little third year who would never be the reason for such a loud and terrifying noise. Obviously.
This time, the disruption in the otherwise pristine afternoon had nothing to do with this Slytherin--however, it seemed a certain snake was at fault. Silas Norwood. The name wasn't one that she particularly enjoyed talking about, nor talking to. She'd had her fair share of interactions with the second-year through the Hogwarts Headliner, of which he was the Editor-in-Chief. He'd been written about in that very newspaper, which caused Alyss to lose a lot of respect for him. Clearly, he must not proofread his own paper; therefore, he deserved every word the paper had said.
Alyss was doing what she did prior to afternoon classes: she was walking. She was young, and as always, full of energy. One of her routines involved walking. Down the stairs, outside, around the race course, before she would go back inside to some other room prior to heading to class. She was a good student! Of course! She promised! But being a few minutes late to class was generally excusable.
Alyss was walking down and through the corridors of the second floor, starting towards the stairway--
BOOM. CLANG.
--her head, on instinct, snapped in the direction of the loud boom. That was not usual.
There was a moment within her head in which she hesitated. Did she go towards the noise, or away? Was it dangerous?
Ultimately, the ever-Alyss in her won out. Backtracking, she stepped towards the sound and saw the dark-haired second-year in the middle of a blackened suit of armor, the look on his face one of bewilderment. Either he was a good actor (ever the possibility), or he wasn't the cause. She banished even the entertainment of the latter--Silas was absolutely the cause of whatever mischief he found himself in. No question about it.
Now, the Slytherin wasn't the only one attracted by the noise, not that it surprised her. There was a small crowd of students drawn to Silas' situation, with the exact same survival instincts Alyss had. One of a literal hare.
"Lovely. Norwood, what did you do this time?" She sighed, glancing down and examining her nails, as if they had any semblance of an impact on the situation. This was just something she did when she didn't know where to look. "Everyone's okay, right?" She looked up abruptly, glancing at the figures standing in the corridor. That should have been her first thought. Not automatically blaming someone. What was wrong with her?
Well, at least one thing was certain. Silas was the issue, no question about it.
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stats.__sta 7 • eva 8 • str 4 • wis 11 • arc 7 • acc 10
abilities.__ 1. Fearless | Immune to a dhampir's aura, terrible presence, and a werewolf's intimidation.
2. Evasive Maneuvers | 10% auto-evasion chance that anything that targets this player automatically misses.
word count.__483
stats.__sta 7 • eva 8 • str 4 • wis 11 • arc 7 • acc 10
abilities.__ 1. Fearless | Immune to a dhampir's aura, terrible presence, and a werewolf's intimidation.
2. Evasive Maneuvers | 10% auto-evasion chance that anything that targets this player automatically misses.
word count.__483