What is the First Rule... Slytherin Event

The tea would prove to be a respite, albeit temporary, from his suffering. That sense of paranoia and dread, muted. Everything felt a little fuzzy, not quite as sharp. The lights seemed dimmer. The noises, the sounds of life both outside of the tent ... and below seemed less relevant. It did not matter, not at this moment, not as long as he had the comfort of a warm cup of tea in his hand.

Selim would talk, while nobody was there. A familiar scene perhaps, the madness and the loneliness of the setting. The solitary snake in an empty room enjoying a spot of tea.

...Victor, an ally?



The voice admitted.



He admitted. Victor, if he stood or fell. If he could stave them off, or if they accepted him and pitied him, it did not matter. If they ripped him or each other to shreds. That too would be ultimately irrelevant.



Unlike magic, those effects are not only devastating but they are also harder to heal. The worst the Slytherins down there would have to contend with is a bruised ego, some briefly broken flesh and some damned friendships. Ultimately the fray was irrelevant. Beat each other to a bloody pulp. Break each other's bones. The pain they will inflict and experience is ultimately temporary.

The tea in the pot was far from endless, the pot emptied when he refilled his cup with the peace-giving liquid. He would be asked another question -- why. Considering how chatty the voice seemed, perhaps he would monologue his entire devious plan. However, Selim forgot one thing. He would need to be tied up and hung perilously over a tank of man-eating piranhas. There were necessary cliches that were sorely lacking.



Typical Ravenclaw. Whilst discussing all things mundane, Selim might take notice of a curiosity. There was something else here, a darkness that seemed to have life. Not like the spiders he saw in the common room, more his own shadow failing to match his form and posture. it moved of its own accord.

The response the Ravenclaw gave to Selim's question made him let out a light hum of mild surprise, even though he had suspected such a response. Vladimir didn't seem like someone who had many allies in this school, much less friends.



Selim blinked idly, nodding and storing that bit of information away for later, not that there was much use for it. Then the voice continued.



At that, he rose his brow, an expression of curiosity, even as his senses began to dull, growing a bit fuzzier as the tea took effect, the lights becoming not quite so bright, so sharp. That was good, Selim never liked bright light anyways.



At that, Selim let out a sharp bark of laughter, it sounded bitter. He understood that statement all too well. "Isn't that the truth? You're right, it doesn't matter in the end, from a logical perspective." Selim stared down at his empty cup, "Even the mental implications are rather low. Sure, they might get some trauma from this... but honestly... it will heal rather swiftly afterward."

He leaned back in his chair, watching his fuzzy surroundings, enjoying his muted emotions, "Perhaps I would disagree with you if their situation was similar, to the one that haunts me to this day... but it isn't." His eyes seemed to stare into the cup without really seeing it, a muted, heavy feeling weighing on his shoulders.

But it was lighter than before, the tea hiding its depth, shrouding it in a haze.

"Wizards truly take their comforts for granted. In the end, I believe muggles are the ones who fully grasp the world around them, suffering and all, not wizards." He huffed, his musings mostly for himself.

He then placed his cup back own on the table after seeing that the teapot was empty, a small, disappointed frown overtook his face. He wanted more, but decided there was no need to ask for such a thing, the effects of the tea he already had on him were satisfying enough.

After his simple inquiry of 'Why?', he listened to the response, a small smirk taking over his apathetic features.

"Curiosity, hm?" He chuckled lightly, "I suppose I could believe that. This little event does put them in interesting situations, it would be intriguing to see how they react." He rose a brow, "Even if it isn't quite ok to do from a legal perspective, no matter if they technically consented."

He shrugged, uncaring, the anger from before when he had first seen the ring completely gone, to the point that he wondered why he was even angry in the first place. He had thought it had been on his peers' behalf, but perhaps he had been irate for purely selfish reasons.

No one likes to be treated like a fighting dog.

"Honestly though, legalities don't much matter to me, it would be rather hypocritical of me if they did." He yawned, eyes blearily scanning his surroundings.

Something caught his eye then, his shadow, seeming to move of its own free will. His gaze narrowed to amber slits as he peered at it, hand drifting down to one of his blades, just in case.

He was uncertain, was this another one of his hallucinations? Was it real?

Those two questions that had plagued him for the last month of his school year had returned, making something inside him stir, unsettling him further. He rubbed at his eyes with his free hand, blinking rapidly even as a faint anxiety hit him.

He cast his gaze back to the teapot, half expecting it to morph into something as equally surreal as his moving shadow, like things had done so many times amidst his waking nightmares.

For a brief moment, he wished he had looked into the effects of linden further than the cursory glance he gave it when looking for possible natural medications for insomnia.

He closed his eyes for a few moments, taking a few deep breaths, before easing back into his chair, relaxing once more.

As if nothing happened, he asked another question, that same note of curiosity in his tone as when he asked his first inquiries.

"I'm curious, did Moore tell you about the night those spiders attacked the Slytherin common room?" He rose a brow, then glanced at his shadow a few times during the question, to see if it moved again. "It was quite the chaotic night, though it was mildly disappointing that I couldn't catch one of the spiders for further examination..."

He was probing, that much was obvious, though he supposed it wouldn't be such a bad thing if he got no answer. He was still uncertain if his shadow was another of his hallucinations, a reaction to the linden tea, or something Vladimir was doing for fun.

He wasn't very battle-ready, so he only hoped it was one of the first two reasons, not the last one.

Perhaps he should've been more specific about what tea to ask for.

Actions:

Chilling, Trying to Chat with Vladimir, Being a Lazy Freeloader, Mourning the Loss of his Tea, Eying his Shadow.

Mentions: Vladimir Athanatos, Scarecrow (Victor Moore)

Stats & Abilities:

Reducio

____ ____ ____

1st Year

/35

Stamina: 4
Evasion: 9
Strength: 3
Wisdom: 7
ArcPower: 3
Accuracy: 9

____ ____ ____

2nd Year

/40

Stamina: 5
Evasion: 10
Strength: 5
Wisdom: 7
ArcPower: 3
Accuracy: 10

____ ____ ____

@Selim Faust

The room felt nice... a bit cool. The lights were muted and the boy was alone, less his shadow which seemed to bubble to life. It would peel itself off from the floor. It stood taller than Selim and loomed over the chillax'ed boy. The shadow would reach forward, towards the boy with a long, spindly fingers and reach past him to touch the teacup in front of him and lift the porcelain from its resting place. As if it has discovered a piece of alien technology it would stare at the teacup, then as if it has seen something that it does not want to see, the shadow would fling the teacup away. It would shatter, covering the floor several feet away in white splinters.

The darkness did not attack, it roamed. Trudging about the tent, the shadow would shy away from the flaps of the tent as it marched the circumference of the canvas dwelling. Selim would mention the legal repercussions of a fight club. A place where people fought by choice in search of a prize, acclaim or for lack of better judgement.

Selim continued his line of questioning. Of course he would ease into questions Vladimir was not going to answer, questions that the combatants downstairs were likely fighting for. About the spiders, that night in the Slytherin Common Room that led to disaster and dangerous vigilantism.



The voice admitted. There would be sound coming from beneath the place where Selim sat (some players are leaving the rings and coming to you). They would not be able to enter, not with Selim over the trap door. A terrible consideration for a few to realize - not that Vladimir has them trapped but rather Selim does.

Sort of interacting with @Selim Faust | Mentioning Vladimir Athanatos, Dan Palmer, Ileen Knight, Thora Larkston, Nico Shymane, Opeila Winters, Flash Holmwood, and Erik Tharaldson

No one tried to stop her as she walked out of the ring. Good. She hadn't exactly been expecting them to, but not having her guard up at all would've been foolish. Already the sounds of fighting were starting up behind her. She didn't look back. She didn't want to look back, didn't want any of this to have ever happened. Because, frankly, she'd considered her House to be somewhat reasonable before. To have enough sense to not just starting throwing punches the first chance they got. She had been stupid in believing they could care about anyone other than themselves even remotely, although clearly they didn't have much self-preservation either as throwing yourself into fights wasn't exactly the best way to avoid danger. Now it was all clear before her: her housemates were just asking for this to happen to them.

Perhaps this was what Vladimir had wanted. Bridget still wasn't entirely sure he'd been the one to set all this up, nor was she positive he could arrange something this big, but perhaps he'd wanted to tear their House apart. Pit them against each other, friends against friends. She would have no part in any of it.

Behind her came shouts from a familiar voice. Despite her resolution to ignore all the fighting, she couldn't help but turn, curious for whatever Dan was doing. Apparently he was... leaving the ring? It was a little concerning having someone who changed his entire stance so quickly and seemingly without reason as their Quidditch Captain, but at least he'd finally figured out fighting was a bad option. Whether that meant her feeble speech had gotten to him or he'd been influenced by something else, she didn't know. She also noted that another girl, who'd also voiced her disapproval of this whole thing, had stepped out of the ring.

With a small shake of her head, she slumped against the wall right outside the tunnel. Her intention had been to head straight back to the surface, but she found she couldn't. Not yet. She just... needed to know who all went ahead and fought without thinking and who at least tried to stop this. And she didn't want to leave and have something happen to Thora, because, frankly, she had no idea what to expect once she returned to the tent. But her friend was fine. She didn't even enter the ring, not really to Bridget's surprise--her friend was above such idiotic, pointless fighting.

Unfortunately, not everyone she'd held in some amount of respect did the logical thing. She wasn't even trying to watch, but she could still hear them. Could still see when punches were thrown. Nico and Opeila got into a full-blown screaming match, and she watched, disappointment written on her features, as Opeila ran past her up the tunnel, her face a bleeding mess. Nico had done that to her. Maybe she didn't want to see her housemates like this, but what use was hiding from the truth? It was better to face it and deal with it. Flash threw punches as well, but at least he'd tried to stop the fighting first. In her opinion, he'd been a little too forceful with it, but she supposed that was better than mindless attacks. Not really to any surprise, Erik Tharaldson, who'd earned back a shred of her respect after the Chess Combat game, lost it again as he tore through his opponents.

The first round of fighting was over and she would not wait around for the next one, since it would surely only be more bloody. Perhaps they'd been able to talk out the first round, more or less, but the teams moving on wouldn't be so willing to step down. Standing up, she stepped into the tunnel, following it back up to the surface. Except... the trapdoor was closed. Fighting down the brief surge of panic caused by the observation that they were very much trapped down here, she took a deep breath and used her brain instead of panicking. Well, if that boy was still up there, perhaps he could open it for her. Granted, she couldn't think of who else would have shut it besides him, but maybe he'd listen. Or perhaps Opeila was okay enough to answer it. Reaching her hand up, she knocked thrice on the door, hoping it would be opened.

Action | Knocking on the trap door
Stats:
5 Stamina | 9 Evasion | 3 Strength | 9 Wisdom | 7 Arcane Power | 8 Accuracy
Race/Abilities:
Full Human | Sixth Sense | Evasive Maneuvers

Outfit

Post edited to fix the timeline--now takes place after the first round of fighting has ended

Coming back from the Group Seven & Eight fight thread and responding to Dan's actions from this post.

Though Jack had been determined to keep by Victor's side since before the start of the first fight, he had no clue what to expect when Dan marched up to the older boy yelling out his name much like he had prior. As Dan had unexpectedly appeared to have meant to apologize to Victor before, the Quidditch Team Captain was one of the very last people Jack thought he would have had reason to protect the burned young man from now.

How very wrong he was.

Before the youngest of the boys knew what was happening, barely able to register the new expression on the second-youngest as anger, Dan threw a fist straight at Victor's head. Jack's own jaw dropped in pure horror. Sure, maybe they were all a weak lot as Slytherins, but didn't Dan remember how infinitely, almost comedically, seemingly impossibly weaker Victor was than a normal person from their abandoned bathroom interrogation encounter?

This time, it was Jack's turn to scream the victim's name. "VICTOR!!!"

He bolted to the skeletal youth's side, his own face a mask of agony as if he himself had been the one beaten and broken. Well, he had...but not to the extent he was sure Victor had suffered. Jack was used to taking a hit or two, as he often liked to brag, but he had failed to anticipate that he would have needed to act as a barrier between Dan and Victor.

Carefully, gingerly looking Victor over, Jack hovered uncertainly next to him, too afraid to touch at all for fear of causing bruises with his mere fingerprints. Before he could so much as think to ask Dan 'why', the Quidditch Captain was already yelling his intentions and reasons, speaking first in accented English and then what Jack could only guess must have been Gaelic. He himself didn't understand a word of it, but he thought he recognized the sound of the words well enough to identify the language they belonged to.

Jeezes...had they all gone insane? Maybe Jack might have been able to understand Dan's response before he'd apologized, but now? Not to mention the critical look Selim had given Victor and Dmitri's own suspicious behavior. Jack didn't like any of it. What were they all doing? Surely at least one or more of them had some plan, but what? And did it really require them to harm Victor, of all people?

Maybe it was the voice from earlier. Perhaps it was speaking in all of their heads and influencing their decisions; telling them things to manipulate them. If said voice could speak to Jack, why not others as well?

So confounded was the Welsh boy that he almost missed Dan's words in his ear as the Irish boy darted past him toward the way Selim had gone. Jack jerked his head away from Victor briefly to follow Dan with his gaze, he watched him head up the stairs back the way they had come and toward the trap door they had decended through earlier.

With a curse under his breath, Jack turned back to gaze upon Victor with unbridled distress. He wanted to go after Dan; to find out what had happened, but he couldn't just leave Victor here unguarded.

Then, with a tone of grim regret, he leaned down and murmured, "Let me know if it hurts too much," before trying to lift the older boy in his arms bridal-style. He didn't care how awkward it might have looked; only that he wanted to pick him up in a manner that caused Victor the least pain or injury in addition to what damage he had already sustained. Trusting Victor would be as light as ever, if not even more so than usual due to his feeble, corpse-like condition, the younger boy did his best to carry his upperclassman as securely, carefully, and quickly as he could back up the steps after Dan.

When they got there, however, Jack noticed there was yet another student at the top of the steps. As he watched, Bridget Collins attempted to knock on the trap door's underside.

Action 1: Try to pick up Victor and carry him up the steps after Dan toward the trap door.

Health: 360/500
Stats: Sta: 5 || Eva: 7 || Str: 3 || Wis: 8 || AP: 6 || Acc: 6
Ability: Prodigal Charms Learner

Interacting with and mentioning: @Victor Moore, @Bridget Collins, @Vladimir Athanatos, @Selim Faust, @Dan Palmer, & @Dmitri Jones

The room was nice, a much better than it was outside. Honestly, while Selim had been on his designated mission, he had been sweltering hot, and had genuine worries about his ghostly pale skin becoming sunburnt. He would tell anyone that sunburns suck any time of the year (Yes, he even got sunburnt in winter, an impressive feat, some would say).

He relaxed in the nice room, watching cautiously as the shadow... being, reached out and grabbed his teacup, examining it. Then the shadow threw it, and Selim, somehow, didn't chump at the suddenness of the action.

That tea was rather impressive, perhaps he could weaponize it in the future...

The shadow then meandered away, Selim watching on with idle curiosity.

Vladimir didn't answer his not-so-subtle question. The mini assassin found that he didn't really care that his inquiry went ignored, he honestly expected it to, too direct, too closely tied to the current events.

He hoped that if one of the idiots down below somehow won this rigged game, they would actually ask smart questions, ones that would reveal more in one answer then multiple separate questions would.

He highly doubted that would happen though.



Selim yawned, "Did I?" his tone was entirely apathetic, "Hm, I'm sure I've seen more interesting within my own clan, the spars we have can get pretty impressive. The only thing they probably don't have is the pointless drama preteens tend to carry with them everywhere."

Selim laxly glanced down as a knock came from below him, noticing for the first time that he was, in fact, sitting on the trap door. ".... Huh..." he blinked, "I guess there are some intellectuals in my house."



Just like that, Selim's attention was back on the shadow being that paced the tent. Intrigue glinted in his amber eyes, and he tilted his head slightly, a habit whenever something piqued his scientific interest.

"What is it?"

He ignored the noise below him, recalling Vladimir's words of warning. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to let more people in, for they might aggravate the shadowy being, and, in turn, cause it to lash out, like his upperclassmen said.

Look at him, he had a heart.... kind of.

Well, he wasn't going out of his way to purposefully put his peers in a dangerous position, that had to count for something, right?

(No, the actual reason for him not letting his peers in was not because he didn't feel like moving, that is a dirty, filthy lie.)

Actions:

Chilling, Trying to Chat with Vladimir, Being a Lazy Freeloader, Eying his Shadow.

Mentions: Vladimir Athanatos, The kiddens he has trapped under the trap door.

Stats & Abilities:

Reducio

____ ____ ____

1st Year

/35

Stamina: 4
Evasion: 9
Strength: 3
Wisdom: 7
ArcPower: 3
Accuracy: 9

____ ____ ____

2nd Year

/40

Stamina: 5
Evasion: 10
Strength: 5
Wisdom: 7
ArcPower: 3
Accuracy: 10

____ ____ ____

Despite Bridget's efforts, no one and nothing seemed to respond to her knocks. Jack's mind raced to seek out an explanation the meantime.

Since when had the door closed? If Selim wasn't trapped there with the rest of them, he had presumably gone through already. Was he the one who had shut them in? Certainly, he wouldn't have done so intentionally without reason. If neither Bridget nor Dan could get through, however, Jack assumed there was something preventing them from simply pushing the door open themselves.

Tentatively maneuvering around Dan and Bridget to get as close to the trap door as possible, Jack re-adjusted Victor in his arms and craned his neck back to try to call through the door. Was that...had Selim said something? Was he talking to someone in the tent room above them?

"Fangs? Fangs, are you up there?!" he yelled. Perhaps something had happened to his dorm mate. Inwardly grimacing, Jack tried not to imagine Selim's unconscious body lying sprawled out on the floor, blocking the door with its weight. "What's the matter? Are you okay?"

It was possible that the Japanese young man could have escaped the tent and this whole mad mess entirely, of course...but then why wouldn't he have simply left the trap door open for others who may have wanted to follow him to freedom?

Action 2: Try to call up to Fangs (Selim) through the trap door at the top of the stairs.

Health: 360/500
Stats: Sta: 5 || Eva: 7 || Str: 3 || Wis: 8 || AP: 6 || Acc: 6
Ability: Prodigal Charms Learner

Interacting with and mentioning: @Victor Moore, @Bridget Collins, @Vladimir Athanatos, @Selim Faust, @Dan Palmer, & @Dmitri Jones

@Selim Faust | @Jack Burnett | @Dan Palmer | @Victor Moore

The trap door remained shut. The brunette frowned--she couldn't really do anything if she couldn't reach the surface--but perhaps the boy had already left. The possibility of him being able to leave at all was reassuring, but then again, it was just that, a possibility, and not even a likely one. What if their punishment for not fighting awaited them up there and he simply couldn't reach the trap door?

Either way, she didn't bother to knock any more. That would've just been annoying and no amount of rapping on wood would do more than hurt her hand. Bridget stepped to the side of the passageway, leaning against the wall, as she was joined by Dan and Jack, the latter of which was carrying Victor. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly at the sight of the mangled boy, but she didn't say anything. She didn't particularly hate Victor; she mostly felt sorry for him. Here they were, almost like their own mini replica of the Blossom Ball if only for the people involved. Of course, Dan and Jack had done their own thing that night.

Jack yelled, presumably for the boy he referred to as 'Fangs', asking if he was okay. She simply watched, trying her very best to tune out the roaring of the distant crowd. While she was waiting, though, not that she was entirely sure what she was waiting on, she decided she might as well at least look around. This was possibly the first space magic didn't work in as this had been when Victor announced 'magic won't work down here', so maybe there was some evidence of whatever was inhibiting spell casts. Granted, it was fairly dark in the passage which didn't help visibility, but trying couldn't hurt.

"We could try all pushing it open," she suggested, although not with much conviction. Sure, it might work. The three of them didn't look particularly strong, but perhaps a combined effort would be enough. Unless the trap door had some sort of lock or enchantment on it, of course. Then again, what if there was a reason beyond this Fangs simply not being around to open it for them? Would it be wise to force the trap door open and have to face whatever might be up there? Well, either way, she would wait for their input. Jack seemed pretty smart, if not overly talkative, and as Quidditch Captain, Dan was surely used to making decisions.

Action | Perception check
Stats:
5 Stamina | 9 Evasion | 3 Strength | 9 Wisdom | 7 Arcane Power | 8 Accuracy
Race/Abilities:
Full Human | Sixth Sense | Evasive Maneuvers

When Dan arrived, the door was closed. Jack had heard him, as he came after him, but was holding...Victor? Interesting choice, but okay. At least Victor would be getting away from Vlad now.

Then all of a sudden, Bridget appeared.Apparently she wanted out too? Maybe she had always been there at the door, and Dan had never noticed because he wasn't paying attention? Who knows.

Neither of these things was the point however, as the trap door wouldn't open. That is to say it clearly wasn't locked, but something was on top of it keeping it from opening. Which was just typical.
Dan pushed, but he couldn't manage to get it open. He put his shirt down, put his wand in his pocket, and pushed with both arms, and still failed. Dan had no idea if something was going to come after them or not, so this was rapidly changing fro typical, to annoying, and giving way to frustrating.

Then Jack started talking to the trapdoor and calling it 'Fangs'. Dan was about to ask him if he was staying in a nice padded room tied up in a straitjacket over the summer, before he remembered that he called Selim 'Fangs'. So it was Selim's fat ass that was on top of the trapdoor, then.
Dan knew that Selim wasn't fat, but the frustration was starting to boil.

"Right then. Ever'one push at once. One burst of ever'tin' ye got. That oughta move his lazy arse outta de way."

Dan readied himself, and when the others were ready, would let loose all the strength in his smol boi arms all at once with the others to bash the door open.

Actions: Mentally berating Selim (free action)
Secretly admiring Jack's cute face (free action)
Shoving with full strength with the others to get the door open

Sorry that this has been a dead thread. There were some social dynamics and time issues

Time was being a bit timey wimey here. The various thread of time and space would seemingly collide. It was hard to process everything that had happened but they would see Opeila Seilum rush out of the area, pursued by an angered dhampir. Selim was enjoying a nice tea with his imaginary friend, that voice in his head. That was until he felt something pound at the floor beneath him.



Selim could have let his housemates out. After all they were cruelly trapped in this dangerous fight club that provided tea. His resistance made him complicit, in part also their jailer. Well, that or their savior. Careful, the darkness lashes out.

He would not serve as a barrier to the girl as her desperate bid for survival gave her the herculean strength to breech the trap door. Bloodied by dhampir claws with a trio or rough, rugged cuts and a disheveled appearance. She would enter the upper level and see an overturned table, a broken teapot and china cup with saucer for one. Selim was having tea time while the rest of them were killing one another.



Well, that was how it would look. Selim would notice something behind him. A looming darkness would stand behind the small girl.
____________________________________________________________
Beneath the trap door that would swing closed on its own, for it to make sense for those that remained below -- Jack, Victor, Dan and Bridget. At the very least, the middle of the final match was witnessed by them. Opeila already fled. Jack partially assailed by Amara who decided the near teen was an easy target for her. He would have been had his allies not taken the girl out in a series of brutal attacks. Some people enjoyed fighting more than others, that much was absolutely obvious.

Jack would take it upon himself to sweep Victor off his feet. He never even waited for a first date. "No, don't!" Victor protested. His weight felt non-existent or Jack was physically powerful, in truth Victor was feather-light. "I need to stay!" A feeble attempt to push Jack away with lame arms would be ultimately useless.

If not heeded, Victor would try to climb over Jack's shoulder making a pathetic scene as he tried to crawl to freedom and fall trying. If so, something would be obviously injured, the boy was made of issue paper and ash. Something would go wrong, worse than what had already transpired. The crowd, the roaring crowd that was riled by the conflict and the drama fell silent. None intervened, they... disappeared.

"Let me go back!" A clumsy hand would push towards Jack's jaw but the near-teen had likely experienced a stronger force facing a gale. "It is coming!" He sounded terrified, but he was like an overturned turtle or a lame small animal despite his gangly, long proportions knotted in Jack's arms.

__________________________________________________________________

Jack's muffled voice would call through the trap door to Selim. The door was shut. Bridget and Dan would be trying to force the door open. To make the order of operations work, Opeila would be already on the other side. Selim, the brave tea-loving idiot that he was was not completely stupid. Jack was trying to break into the tent. The very unsafe tent. How did he know it was unsafe?

Simple. The darkness, his darkness was there. Selim was a lot of things, 'troubled' being one of the most notable. He was damaged years before he had ever stepped foot onto Hogwarts and this shadow, whilst the proportions were long and spindly resembled himself. He could recognize the madness in the darkness. The fear that would manifest through violence, that knew no reason and in the end was only his pain. It lacked his heart and while he may say it was empty, hollow and as broken as other parts of him, it was not true. Jack was relevant, perhaps it was just business a convenient lie they could both tell themselves over and over again until it was true.

Selim could not command the darkness, it did not do his bidding nor did it carry the burden of his heart. It would loom over dear Opeila, still bleeding from the dhampir's wrath. Raise a blackened claw. And slash--

The darkness attempts to strike down Opeila.
Attack 1
Evasion 12

The darkness would miss, wild and terrible the claws would scratch the ground. The wood would curl into long, twisting ribbons. a trio of deep gouges would mar the floor where the girl once stood. Selim was blocking their [Jack and company's] ingress with his weight, with whatever endurance he could muster. He was not trying to push back the darkness but rather hold back the carnage, at least for a little while.

He could hear the muffled voice call out to him -- Fangs... Fangs... He was coming, he was attempting to break through. But Jack was weak, in body but not in mind or fortitude. Also what he lacked in body he made up for in stubbornness. He could not assist the duo -- Dan and Bridget as they attempted to push their way in. To lift a trap door weighed down by a teenage boy and his angst-filled strength.

Dan and Bridget attempt to lift trap door. ( 11 + 4 ) + ( 10 + 7 ) = 32
Selim blocking/preventing ( 14 + 5 ) * 1.5 = 28.5

The pair would prove to be strong enough, Selim would feel the trap door lift from beneath his feet. he would stumble immediately adjacent and he would see in the dim lighting not just Jack but three others. A girl (Bridget), an Irishman (Dan) and the mangled, struggling form of the boy he knew by a moniker he had decided upon rather than a name in Jack's arms. Selim could let them in. He could, the darkness was always afraid, that was the problem. He could push them back. Try to slam the lid shut. Protect them, but at what ultimate cost?